Paradise – A Feminist Film or Just Another Tokenistic Attempt at Woke Cinema?

Darshana Rajendran recently sparked waves across the industry by calling Paradise a feminist film, a bold label that’s both applauded and heavily criticized. With co-star Roshan Mathew offering a lukewarm endorsement of the claim, the discussion has spiraled into controversy. While the film is making rounds on the festival circuit and collecting critical praise, the burning question remains — is Paradise truly feminist, or is it another cleverly marketed “woke” product riding on shallow gender politics?

Rajendran, who plays the role of Amritha, stated that the film centers on a woman’s gaze and offers a sensitive portrayal of how women internalize and process conflict. However, critics argue that merely placing a woman at the center of a narrative does not inherently make a film feminist. In fact, Amritha’s character, while emotionally nuanced, is mostly passive throughout the storyline. She observes, reflects, and reacts — but rarely acts. That in itself has drawn fire from those who believe feminism in cinema should empower women with agency, not silence them with stoicism.

Roshan Mathew, who plays her on-screen husband, admitted in interviews that while the film may have a feminist undercurrent, it isn’t overt or deliberate. His cautious tone only adds to the suspicion that the feminist label may be more promotional than philosophical. The word “feminist” is often misused in cinema to lend cultural credibility — and many now suspect Paradise is yet another example of this trend. The film’s supporters praise its subtle messaging, but others say subtlety is often an excuse for inaction.

Director Prasanna Vithanage proudly calls the film feminist because it highlights marginalised perspectives. But critics challenge this view, stating that a film can showcase female suffering without doing anything to challenge or dismantle the structures that enable it. The cinematic lens may be feminine, but the power dynamics remain firmly masculine — even patriarchal — throughout the story. If the woman remains a quiet observer to male conflict, is that really feminism or just elegant window dressing?

Moreover, many are pointing fingers at the timing and tone of Paradise's feminist pitch. The film’s release during a time of rising social awareness around gender issues seems calculated. The festival accolades and OTT buzz are seen by some as rewards not for storytelling but for ticking the right boxes: female lead, political backdrop, emotional restraint, and of course, the magic word — feminism.

This is where the controversy deepens. Is Paradise an authentic artistic reflection of a woman’s experience in a war-torn region, or a film that exploits feminist themes to generate buzz and critical acclaim? While Darshana Rajendran’s performance is undeniably powerful, one strong female lead doesn’t erase the absence of female agency or resistance in the storyline.

Ultimately, Paradise walks the tightrope between meaningful cinema and performative progressivism. It may be winning hearts and headlines, but its feminism remains questionable. The industry, and its audience, must now ask: Are we applauding genuine representation, or simply being sold another branded illusion of equality?