‘Angammal’ Movie Review: A Sari Blouse Becomes the Thread for a Stunning Portrait of Motherhood

What’s in a blouse, you might ask. A lot more than you can imagine, according to Vipin Radhakrishnan’s moving Tamil film Angammal. But most of all, a mother grieving the lost innocence of her sons. A mother-in-law rueing her own incapacity to show empathy for the wife of her son. A friend who struggles to see her friend pass, even in their old age. And a woman bent on protecting her freedom to live life the way she sees fit. Geetha Kailasam headlines this beautifully rich portrait of a woman who lets a sari blouse come between her and her son.

Angammal (Kailasam) is a tough cookie — she never forgets to slip in a cuss or two, even in between words of love and assurance. It’s right to say that she lives the remainder of her husband-free (she lost her husband as a young mother of two) life by her own rules. And we don’t mean this in the clichéd, you only live once attitude that prompts people to live vicariously. Angammal doesn’t know any other way but this. A milk farmer herself, she educates young mothers about breastfeeding without hesitation, gives villagers unsolicited but well-meaning advice, and sometimes even helps do away with the cruel husband of a dear friend. All while ditching the sari blouse at the expense of lewd and revolting chatter. Based on acclaimed Tamil author Perumal Murugan’s short story ‘Kodithuni’, the film chooses to pause on the latter point.

When Pavalam (Saran Sakthi), her youngest son, a doctor whom Angammal dotes over, comes home with news of wanting to marry a woman from a wealthier family, he starts looking at his mother differently. All of a sudden, the mother who struggled for 30 years to give him a better life and education slowly disappears, and all he can see is a woman who bears her breast. Embarrassment fills Pavalam up, eating away at his love and respect for her. Things get delightfully complicated when he enlists his sister-in-law (Thendral Raghunathan) to help cover her up. We see these scenes unfold in the middle of a busy kitchen, with the two men left listening to these persuasions from outside.

While the film largely deals with Pavalam and Angammal, the film takes this opportunity to subtly mount a gentle portrait of a single mother. As the film progresses, the differences between Pavalam and his elder brother Sudalai (Bharani) become clear, reminding us to gently reflect on our own lived experiences with siblings and mothers. Angammal isn’t flawless. While she encourages her friends to walk out of problematic marriages and on violent partners, her kindness isn’t extended to her own daughter-in-law, Sharadha, who often struggles to maintain autonomy in the house. Angammal teaches her granddaughter the power of individualism, but doesn’t lend the same kindness to her mother. 

In the middle of all this seriousness, the film still finds ways to inject mirth. Like when Sudalai and Pavalam begrudgingly get the perpetually shirtless village head to talk some sense into their mother. “This man himself doesn’t wear a shirt, now how will he convince Angammal?” someone says. While this makes us chuckle, it also makes us realise his shirtlessness isn’t quite as appalling as Angammal’s choice. Why is it socially acceptable for a man to bare his chest, but a woman’s body—at any age—is subjected to scrutiny? Angammal dissects these questions. But it also urges us to keep things simple. Would Angammal have put on her blouse if she were asked directly? There’s no way to know, but the film keeps us guessing.