In Thappad, Casual Domestic Violence Causes Its Victim to Take a Stand

As I left the first-day, first-show screening of Thappad at a downtown Toronto in a bit of a daze. There had been a great deal of buzz around this latest film by Anubhav Sinha, whose previous works in recent years have taken on issues such as Muslim identity and Indian nationalism in Mulk (2018) and caste discrimination in Article 15 (2019)—both in the context of the Indian constitution. In Thappad, the discourse dwells within the spheres of domestic violence. (Incidentally, “thappad” means “slap” in Hindi; Sinha is clearly not big on subtlety.)
Thappad features Amrita (Taapsee Pannu), a dutiful young housewife in New Delhi, who has given up her dream of being a classically trained Kathak dancer to perform daily chores for her husband Vikram (Pavail Gulati) instead.
She wakes up every morning at 6:30 a.m., makes a cup of tea boiled with snippets of a lemongrass bush growing on her kitchen windowsill and a scrape of ginger, savors a solitary cup of tea looking out at the view from the balcony, and then gets busy with household duties. She checks the blood glucose levels of her diabetic mother-in-law Sulakshana’s (Tanvi Azmi), prepares and packs Vikram’s breakfast and lunch, walks him to his car, handing him his coffee cup and wallet. One evening, when his office colleague is over and Vikram can’t figure out why the printer isn’t working, Amrita plugs it in and hands him the printout.
Amrita does all this with a smile. This is how many young Indian women are brought up—to become indispensable to their husband’s lives, usually at the cost of their own personal aspirations. Amrita gets a rude awakening to all that she’s given up one night. During a party at their home to celebrate his success at work, Vikram slaps Amrita—in full view of the people in attendance. As Amrita’s domestic help Sunita (Geetika Vidya) later remarks to her abusive husband, “I thought only women like me got hit. But any woman can be hit by her husband.”
The slap shakes Amrita out of her marital stupor. She ends up in a legal battle with Vikram, despite her hotshot female lawyer Nethra’s (Maya Sarao) initial counsel to forget about the slap and move on. It’s the same advice that her own mother Sandhya (Ratna Pathak Shah) and Sulakshana give to her. Women need to ignore small indiscretions, they advise. But Amrita holds steady. Vikram isn’t allowed to slap her even once, she counters.
Many people had already seen the “thappad” in the trailer for the movie, so there was no shock value invested in that moment. Instead, the movie builds up to the slap and its repercussions, showing us just how normalized such behaviour is, and the many ways in which male privilege works in society—South Asian or otherwise.