Art has long been a medium to bring to the foreground what has otherwise remained unaddressed. This is undoubtedly true for the depiction in the Tamil film Annapoorani, which includes a depiction of the Ranganathaswamy Temple—a historical site Prime Minister Narendra Modi visited before the consecration ceremony of the Ram Temple in Ayodhya. The temple has a unique story featured in Annapoorani, a film centered around the aspirations of a Brahmin priest’s daughter who dreams of becoming an acclaimed chef, causing a stir when Netflix removed it from its platform following objections from certain Hindu groups who believed the film’s portrayal of certain themes was in poor taste.
In Annapoorani, the story of a fabled Muslim princess adored within the temple’s lore as “Tulukka Nachiyar” or “Bibi Nachiyar” highlights the movie’s narrative as a representation of tolerance embedded within Hindu culture. The movie portrays the historic romance between a stolen deity and Surathani, the daughter of Malik Kafur, the general of Delhi Sultan Allauddin Khilji, who became deeply attached to the idol. The tragedy surrounding this character and the ritual offerings made to her memory serve as an example of the breadth of acceptance in the Hindu tradition, where even a Muslim woman can be revered as a goddess.
While the film may follow the familiar structure of an underdog’s story with accompanying music, it lays out a plethora of social issues on the table—such as caste determinism and gender bias in professional choices—for a general audience to reflect upon. Nayanthara’s performance as Annapoorani is set against the backdrop of her struggle with societal constraints and her pursuit to claim ownership of both her successes and mistakes.
However, the depiction of the protagonist’s friendship with a Muslim character named Farhan stirred discontent among right-wing factions, who lodged police complaints alleging the film’s narrative supported the notion of Love Jihad—a conspiracy rooted in concerns about interfaith relationships and conversion to Islam. In their view, these filmic elements seemed to affirm their fears rather than the broader tale of syncretism and interpersonal respect that the film sought to convey.
Despite obtaining the Central Board Of Film Certification (CBFC) approval and a theatrical release in December without incident, the film faced controversy when it was made available on the OTT platform, coinciding with the run-up to the grand Ayodhya event. As accusations flew, the filmmakers expressed regret for any unintended offense caused, marking another instance of artistic expression being undermined in the country.
Historically, this pattern of selective consuming of mainstream films, seeking controversy where context shows none, is a familiar concern—in India and elsewhere. Whether it was the uproar over the depiction of traditional Indian cuisine in Steven Spielberg’s Indiana Jones And The Temple of Doom or the hue and cry over a saffron bikini in Pathaan, which ebbed upon full context being revealed, it emphasizes a trend of superficial judgments overpowering informed critique.
Noted artist Shuddhabrata Sengupta, responding to the controversy with scholarly references, underscored that quoting from Hindu texts is not exclusive to one faith, as demonstrated by diverse scholarly work such as Arshia Sattar’s translation of Valmiki Ramayan. In another instance, Annapoorani’s ritual act of performing namaaz before cooking biryani—a scene meant to showcase the sharing of communal customs—was met with disapproval, even when Islamic scholars highlighted the etymological connections between ‘namaz’ and ‘Namah.’
Polarized debates frequently deflect to questions of bias against other religions, but the failings of one ideology do not justify a mirrored intolerance. Films such as Secret Superstar and Mee Raqsam have attempted to redress cultural and religious stereotypes, portraying support for dreams and aspirations regardless of gender or faith.
Annapoorani’s narrative thus stands as both a homage to culinary excellence and a commentary on the often rigid and selective guardianship of free speech. If we truly embrace the principle of ‘Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam,’ must we not also embrace the diversity in the spiritual and cultural fare we offer? Moreover, as we witness Annapoorani surmount personal loss to push boundaries in her art, Marcel Duchamp’s assertion that taste can be the enemy of art resonates clearly, reminding us that the true flavors of creativity lie beyond the realm of the conventional.
