When Love Speaks in Distance and Dialect
When Meenakshi Sundareshwar debuted on Netflix in November 2021, it felt like a gentle drizzle after a heavy summer filled with noisy blockbusters. Directed by Vivek Soni and produced by Dharma Productions, the film, however, did not feature any of the typical glamour, stakes, or drama associated with the banner. Instead, it focused on a quiet tale of love, language, and longing between a couple who recently married, yet found themselves separated by circumstance, not by choice.
On the surface, it seemed like a simple romantic comedy. A husband and wife learn to love one another across screens and telephone calls, longing and love separated by distance. However, beneath the pastel frames and polite Tamil households, there was something far more defining: the friction between love born of companionship and love endured, distance and all, a modern ambition trapped in a traditional expectation.
The Story That Mirrors a Generation
Meenakshi Sundareshwar follows Meenakshi (Sanya Malhotra) and Sundareshwar (Abhimanyu Dassani), a newly married couple from Madurai. Their arranged marriage begins on an awkward yet endearing note, and, just as the couple begins to know one another, Sundar gets a job in Bengaluru. He is forced to move, and Meenakshi is left to face loneliness and family expectations by herself.
The struggle to keep the spark alive in a long-distance marital relationship is a conflict that resonates with many Indians today. Unlike Meenakshi Sundareshwar, who covers that ache in the distance, today there are video calls, “good morning” GIFs and WhatsApp.
The film also reflects the reality of many middle-class Indian families. Love is not always about burning passion; sometimes it is the tenderness of patience, the warm embrace of a shared smile, and the comfort of routine. This is the heartfelt affection of habit. The film captures this reality and the pacing is a reflection of this truth; it is slow, and observant, and at times, at the risk of losing the viewer, utterly frustrating.
The tenderness is more in the relationship than in the title characters who are the focal point. The elemental reason that Meenakshi Sundareshwar is worth viewing is the gentle, still, and silent, understated and unassuming manner that Malhotra and Dassani portray their roles, without being caricatural.
Sanya Malhotra showcased her talent for naturalism yet again after having successfully convinced the audience in Dangal, Badhaai Ho, and Pagglait. Managing to render the most mundane instances extraordinary is a rare skill. Sanya’s Meenakshi is deeply confident yet meek, a lover who intensely, deeply, and devotedly loves yet is unwilling to lose her individuality. Sanya had stated in her interview that the reason why she was attracted to the role of Meenakshi was that the emotions she had to portray seemed “real and familiar” to her. It was the silences and strength of the women that she had seen while growing up in Delhi that inspired her.
For Abhimanyu Dassani, the burden of legacy was unavoidable. After all, he is the son of Bollywood actress Bhagyashree. When he debuted in Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota, expectations were bound to greet him. However, he opted for the path of restraint. His Sundar is shy, awkward, and adorably clueless, the kind of man who doesn’t know how to flirt but learns how to love. Abhimanyu described Sundar off-screen as “a mirror to every man who wants to do right but doesn’t know how to express it.”
Interestingly, their chemistry wasn’t built on rehearsals. During the shoot, director Vivek Soni kept them apart for most of the pre-production phase to preserve that “newly married awkwardness.” The result is telling. Their interactions have that first-week-of-marriage stiffness, filled with adrenaline, and unexpressed love.
A Love Letter to Madurai — and an Unintentional Debate
Meenakshi Sundareshwar is one of the most aesthetic films Dharma has produced in recent years. For the cinematographer Debojeet Ray, Madurai is temples, jasmine garlands, and brass lamps before the quiet hum of a small town. The detailing is beautiful. However, it also sparked controversy.
Shortly after the trailer’s release, some Tamil viewers and reviewers demonstrated some degree of unease at what they perceived as an exaggerated representation of South India. Some argued that the film relied heavily on clichés without an accurate comprehension of the local context, such as Carnatic music, Tamil expressions, and hyperbolic cultural politeness. This was the familiar debate in Indian cinema: Who gets to tell which story to whom?
In contrast to the initial reactions, reviewer Vivek Soni stated that the first feature film Meenakshi Sundareshwar was not an attempt to characterize the entire state of Tamil Nadu, but rather focused on an imaginary couple situated in one small part of the state. The point of the narrative was to spotlight the celebration of difference. The love in question was framed as one that transcends not only the cultural and linguistic divide but also the geographical divide and the numerous differences in attitudes. The discourse generated by the film pointed to an important facet of the Indian cultural landscape: the love story, set in a specific region, contains a multitude of other untold stories.
Behind the Scenes: A Film Made in Long-Distance Spirit
It bears noting the irony in the case of Meenakshi Sundareshwar: it too was filmed during most of the pandemic when most people were learning to love from a distance. The film was also under strict social contact regulations. Both cast and crew kept a distance, both emotionally and physically. Sanya Malhotra would joke later that, due to the pandemic, she had become proficient in “acting in loneliness” considering that a majority of her scenes were solitary in nature, involving a phone and a voice note.
Abhimanyu Dassani, for weeks, minimally trained in Tamil phrases on account of the film and was told that he was recited them ‘authentically’, while Sanya, from the film crew training, integrated the body language of Madurai women. The crew also partook in constructive, whole-night, critical thinking on how to make the film emotionally true, and not just visually.
Another, and lesser known, facet to the story is that the film’s original concept sprung from a discussion about arranged marriages in the remote working world. Vivek Soni and his co-writer Aarsh Vora, then, were observing that young, working, and internet connected couples in most of India were ‘crossed city married’, and working remotely on the marriage. They envisioned a story in the voice of such a couple; a love kept at a distance of no infidelity, and no tragedy, purely time zones and unstable Wi-Fi.
The Buzz, the Backlash, and the Bittersweet Aftertaste
The first trailer dropped and social media began to show excitement. Seeing Dharma Productions produce a small-town rom-com was a breathe of fresh air. The score, done by Justin Prabhakaran, was engaging and the song “Tittar Bittar,” with its catchy tune, was very repetitive and child-like and therefore became very popular.
Upon the release of the film, the public reaction was mixed. Urban viewers almost soley complimented the film. Viewers significantly identified the film as “comfort cinema,” however, evaluators logged as “slow,” “too clean,” and “too polished” as negative identifiers. In Tamil speaking audiences the tone was either to unadulterated or too polite as the humanity was resolved.
The response that was unanimous was the appreciation of Sanya’s performance. The character of Meenakshi was a lonely character and Sanya helped instill life into her character. Even the most subdued scenes of Meenakshi, Sanya, in a studio, performed.
One of the themes of the film was a revolution in how the film examines a woman. Meenakshi does not wait passively for her husband, but, instead, goes proactively for self-discovery. Meenakshi works, dreams, flirts, and gets angry – all without being a cliche.
What the Film Really Says
Despite its slow pacing and soft comedy, Meenakshi Sundareshwar talks about distance — not just physical, but that which is emotional. It describes how, unlike grandiose, epic romances, modern love is fragmentary, is digital and is distant. About how, in India, modern marriages are about the balance of duty and desire, individuality and togetherness.
Not entirely unlike the truth about our middle class, Meenakshi Sundareshwar shows how modern ambition is coupled with tradition. From arranged marriages with neighborhood gossip and then WhatsApp calls, to careers that take precedence, and then, relationships built on emotional connectivity.
In that sense, Meenakshi Sundareshwar looks the middle class squarely in the face, not a geographical place but a moment in time. It is every Indian couple story, sitting together in silence, staring at their phones, waiting a response from their partner.
When the credits roll, it is the absence of dialogue and the silence of the backdrop which lets the audience feel that love, in whatever region and in whatever time, is about presence — even, perhaps especially, at a distance.
Watch Free Movies on MyFlixer-to.click