Lust Stories 2: The Problem of Equating Rape With Lust In Kajol's Short Film

Lust Stories 2 is available to watch on Netflix.

A still from Kajol's short film in Lust Stories 2.

(Photo Courtesy: Youtube/ Altered by The Quint)

(Trigger Warning: Descriptions of sexual assault)

Do filmmakers have a moral responsibility? The answer is perhaps not as black and white as one would like. Amit Sharma’s short film in Netflix's latest anthology Lust Stories 2 jarringly equates marital rape and domestic violence with lust. It’s not unheard of, but perhaps, it’s the lens through which the plot unfolds that creates room for debate. Especially when it is included in an anthology that was touted to largely explore “love, desire, and sex.” 

Oftentimes, in Hindi cinema, lust has been synonymous with depravity. And biblically too, it’s one of the seven deadly sins. ‘Lust’ etymologically has a bad reputation. It’s not unwarranted for it to be paralleled with sexual violence. But that’s also a very limiting view. Carnal curiosity isn’t inherently vile. University of Cambridge professor Simon Blackburn notes in his book ‘Lust: The Seven Deadly Sins’ that lust is “not merely useful but essential.” 

In ways, equating lust solely with depravity can arguably be deemed as regressive.

Rape scenes depicted in the 70s

In the 70s’, actors Prem Chopra, Sudhir and Ranjeet were known for playing out-and-out negative characters who would often sexually assault the female characters in the films and these problematic scenes would be played for shock value.

Many critics also believed that the prevalence of these scenes was a skewed application of censorship laws in which the depiction of consensual sexual relations was restrictive, so sexual violence was used as a substitute. 

Actors Prem Chopra and Ranjeet. 

(Photo Courtesy: The Quint)

Films like Udaan (1997), Phool Bane Angaray (1991), and Zakhmi Aurat (1981) all had scenes of rape. Hawalaat, starring Rishi Kapoor, Mithun Chakraborty, follows the story of a reporter who exposes a drug syndicate and is sexually assaulted by both criminals and the police inspector as 'punishment'. In a sense, if a woman is exercising her agency she must face pushback. These themes were normalised in Hindi cinema. And sometimes they were just there, for the lack of a better word, to titillate. 

Poster of the film Hawalaat. 

(Photo Courtesy: Twitter)

Ranjeet revealed in an interview with Times of India that he was stereotyped as a “rape specialist” after having repeatedly portrayed the role of a rapist.

Sexual assault is a great deal more than just lust

But what the majority of these films get wrong is that rape isn’t about lust. Psychologists agree that rape is about power, not sex. A study titled, ‘Why Men Rape: Perspectives From Incarcerated Rapists in a KwaZulu-Natal Prison, South Africa’, states “Rape perpetrators often describe rape as a way to exert power, dominance and control over women and use it indirectly as a tool to conceal insecurities.” 

Amit Sharma's short

In Sharma’s short, Kajol plays a middle-aged woman who is stuck in an abusive marriage. Her husband, essayed by Kumud Mishra, is a lecherous has-been whose eyes are set on the new domestic worker. The camera lens follows the eyes of the patriarch and his 'object' of desire with such lewd precision that the definition of lust imitates the 70s Bollywood template. 

Lust can be negative in its connotation. The husband's gaze is, after all, lustful. But the story is preoccupied with revenge and its plot doesn't end with him leering at the female characters; he assaults them too and to equate that with lust is my primary point of contention. Predominantly because sexual assault, as mentioned, isn’t necessarily sexually motivated.

The scenes between the husband and wife do inherently capture the power dynamic between the two. Depictions of assault also aren’t attempting to titillate. The patriarch's warped idea of power is the predominant narrative and Kajol's attempt to circumvent it.

Kajol in Lust Stories. 

(Photo Coutresy: Twitter)

The story follows the following arc - Kajol bitterly struggles to get her revenge while the perpetrator unwittingly has the last laugh – the entire plot unfolds like a badly written drama where lust comes into the picture at the absolute end, if at all. It’s a story that makes women’s bodies a battleground for exercising power - what's lust got to do with it?

Ultimately – the needless leering and the power-play isn’t a tale about lust, no matter its etymology. After all, the depictions of violence aren't inaccurate but it doesn't fall under the mandate of Lust Stories. Kajol's story could have been compelling but from a different perspective.

In the 70s, women’s bodies were a punchline – as men ogled and violated them. In 2023, depictions of sexual violence need to step beyond the lens of lechery. Lust can be deviant, no doubt, but sexual assault is a completely different topic of conversation. It arguably cannot be visualised through the scope of lust mostly because it won't do justice to it.