In a candid conversation with The Movie Mail, the director of the much-talked-about film Mrs. – starring Sanya Malhotra – delves into the intricacies of adapting Jeo Baby’s acclaimed Malayalam drama The Great Indian Kitchen from a distinctly female perspective. Arati Kadav opens up about the deeply ingrained patriarchy reflected in everyday moments, the relentless balancing act women navigate between career and home, and the emotional intensity of storytelling. From reinterpreting key scenes to capturing the unspoken struggles of her protagonist, she sheds light on the challenges of filmmaking and the pressing need to address toxic masculinity. With its nuanced narrative and powerful performances, Mrs. – also starring Kanwaljit Singh, Nishant Dahiya and Loveleen Mishra – aims to ignite conversations that challenge societal norms and gender roles.
Q. The Great Indian Kitchen was directed by a male filmmaker. As a female director, did you feel an added sense of responsibility while making this film?
A. Yes, absolutely. I felt a strong sense of responsibility and worked hard to bring a female perspective to the story. The reality is that patriarchy exists everywhere, and it’s not always in grand, obvious ways. It’s often reflected in subtle, everyday gestures. I wanted to capture those nuances while making this film.
Q. During the post-production of your previous film, Cargo, your daughter was still very young and you were juggling motherhood and helming a sci-fi film. Do you think women are constantly expected to excel in both their personal and professional lives?
A. Yes, it is incredibly tough. A man can go to work and, even if he has a child, fully focus on his job without constantly checking on things at home. But for a woman, that’s rarely an option. I cannot step away from my responsibilities at home—if I’m unavailable for a while, things tend to come to a halt. We are always balancing everything. Even something as simple as deciding what’s for dinner—have you noticed how the cook always asks the lady of the house, “Aaj khane mein kya banega?”
Filmmaking is an emotionally intense process. It demands a lot from us, both physically and mentally, especially during production and post-production. At the same time, we carry the emotional responsibility of our personal relationships. For female professionals, it’s always about maintaining that balance. And I’m not the first director to face this. Whether it’s Mira Nair, Aparna Sen, or any other female filmmaker, they’ve all navigated this constant act of balancing.
Q. There are multiple emotionally charged moments in the film. Were there any particular scenes that were especially difficult for you and Sanya to shoot? Have you made any changes to the original narrative?
A. I wanted to stay true to the essence of the original while bringing my own perspective to the storytelling. For example, in the original film, there’s a scene where the husband takes his wife out for dinner, and she sarcastically points out how he follows table manners there but never at home—leaving her to clean up after him. In Mrs., I set this moment in a more relaxed environment, where they are enjoying themselves with friends over a couple of glasses of wine. That’s when she opens up, revealing her frustration at being treated like a housemaid.
The bedroom scenes were particularly difficult for Sanya to shoot. It was heartbreaking to capture the realisation that the character wasn’t just enduring hardship during the day but was also experiencing distress at night. Sanya’s performance beautifully conveyed the depth and nuances of the character. She is truly a wonderful actor to work with.
Q. In the original film, the male protagonist is a teacher, while in Mrs., he is a doctor. A doctor deals with lives and carries immense pressure. As a man, he also faces societal expectations. In some ways, isn’t he also a victim of toxic masculinity? Did you consider exploring that aspect more in the film?
A. That’s an interesting observation. I completely agree. Men are also victims of patriarchy. A doctor’s contribution to society is undeniably crucial. Perhaps, even more than an artist, because a doctor saves lives. But does that give a man the right to control his wife’s life? Absolutely not. Respect is non-negotiable.
At the same time, I do believe we need to address toxic masculinity. The pressure on men to be successful, to earn more, and to gain respect in society is unfair. A man should understand that even if he earns 50 times more than his wife, she still has the right to her own choices, her own life. Respect and money cannot be equated. We need to change that mindset, and I hope more conversations around these issues continue to take place.
