Chicago – May 25, 2025
Santosh (2023), directed by Sandhya Suri, is a quietly unsettling film that uses its narrative to expose deep-seated social prejudices in India, particularly the intertwined issues of anti-Muslim rhetoric and the oppression of the lower classes.
The film follows Santosh, a recently widowed Dalit woman who inherits her late husband’s job as a police constable. As she steps into a world dominated by men and rigid caste hierarchies, the film paints a stark picture of how systemic discrimination operates both overtly and insidiously.
One of the film’s strongest critiques is aimed at the normalization of anti-Muslim sentiment within Indian society, especially in state institutions like the police. Through Santosh’s interactions and her mentor, Inspector Sharma — a figure embodying the casual bigotry and caste privilege — the film reveals how religious hatred is embedded in daily conversations, official narratives, and public attitudes. The investigation of a Muslim man’s disappearance becomes a narrative thread through which this prejudice is laid bare, showing how justice is often contingent on religious identity.
Moreover, Santosh gives voice to the marginalized lower classes, not by grandstanding but through the small, oppressive details of everyday life. Santosh’s struggle to navigate the dual burdens of caste and gender within a corrupt, patriarchal system mirrors the lived realities of countless Dalit women. The film doesn’t sensationalize her victimhood but instead highlights her resilience, confusion, and complicity in a world where survival often means participating in the very structures that oppress you.
As a film, Santosh is understated yet deeply political. Its slow, observant cinematography and naturalistic performances turn an intimate character study into a broader commentary on contemporary India’s social fractures. It’s a haunting, necessary film that uses personal narrative to expose national anxieties around religion, class, and power
