Dorothy is rife with excellent camerawork and pleasant surprises

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR DOROTHY AHEAD

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

In hindsight, it seems so obvious.

Of course, writer/director Karthik Subbaraj's Dorothy is a trans film. But sometimes the most discernible things are also the easiest to miss. A rock on your jogging path isn’t apparent until you trip over it. That remote control you’ve been searching for was on the dining room table all along. And, of course, the mastermind behind Pizza and Jigarthanda DoubleX was weaving a trans saga before my very eyes. I walked into this title only knowing it had some nebulous LGBTQIA+ material in it. Who knew that I was about to experience a film putting Emilia Pérez and so many trans-erasing American films to shame?

Karthik Subbaraj's Dorothy script goes through several modes during its runtime. Initially, Dorothy evokes 90s crime films like A Bronx Tale or Boyz n the Hood in following children growing into young adults whilst existing in neighborhoods where gangster activity is rampant. Here, that narrative mold materializes through the friendship between Karthi (Rishikanth) and Subbu (Sanath). The duo bond as youngsters while working for Subbu's malicious father Whistle Veeraiah (Muthukumar). Once they're adults, they're slicing tendons, collecting payments, and acting bawdy as Whistle’s henchmen.

In these roles, Karthi (once a quiet child beaten up by bullies) is endlessly prone to violence. Subbu, meanwhile, is a gentler soul more inclined to wash dishes, cuddle a pet rooster, or bond with sister-in-law Dorothy (Keerthy Suresh). Subbu, whose already traumatized over witnessing his mother and sister’s death as a child, absolutely crumbles after witnessing further gendered violence at Whistle’s compound.

Recurring monochromatic flashes to the “present” show Karthi hauling around body parts and Subbu’s relatives referring to this character in the past tense. What could possibly lead to this demise? After the film's intermission, Dorothy makes it explicit for dummies like me: Subbu is a trans woman. Always has been. Whistle, who's basically a gangster Immortan Joe, can tolerate his children being murderers, but he draws the line at transness. Thus, Karthi tells Subbu he's taking her to a temple where she can undergo a gender-reaffirming ceremony. In reality, he’s actually going to kill her.

When Karthi first sees Sabbu and shrieks in disgust at her appearance, I started clenching my teeth. “Oh God,” I thought, realizing the pair were about to go on the road together, “Is this about to turn into trans Green Book?” Thankfully, the duo quickly encounter a menagerie of other trans and gender non-conforming individuals, including one woman played memorably by Jeeva Subramanian. As Sabbu finds communal joy in other trans souls and every non-cis characters dances in the back of Karthu’s truck, Dorothy channels The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert or To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar rather than Green Book. That’s akin to believing you’ll soon endure a Morgan Wallen song only to hear a Nina Simone track instead.

Subverting audience expectations and emphasizing Sabbu’s psyche are Subbaraj's greatest screenwriting-based Dorothy accomplishments. In the latter department, tender flashbacks to Sabbu finding joy with Dorothy, especially one depicting her coming out as trans to her friend, are so lovingly realized. These segments have a refreshing unhurried quality to them allowing viewers to marinate in pivotal moments in this character’s life. Meanwhile, one of Dorothy’s most evocative visuals comes when Sabbu finds herself underwater. Here, she sees the deceased women who’ve profoundly affected her.

The dreamlike rendering of this encounter is tremendously involving, especially since (while the scene does have narrative voice-over) there isn’t dialogue explicitly saying “ah, that’s Sabbu’s sister.” Eschewing such expository rhetoric makes it feel even more like audiences are witnessing these supporting visions of the past with Sabbu. The aforementioned expectation subversions, meanwhile, not only keep Dorothy unpredictable. They also crystallize the emotional rollercoaster experience of existing as trans in unwelcome societies.

Take it from a trans gal living in Texas; some days can involve the hardest sobs you’ve ever heaved and then, just an hour later, hearty laughs shared with other trans comrades. Dorothy’s multi-faceted tone and consistently unexpected storytelling details provide a fascinating mirror of this reality. Plus, it produces some deeply entertaining set pieces. Most notably, a scene where transphobic bigots begin beating up Sabbu suddenly transforms into the trans girl version of Nobody I thought I’d only ever see in my dreams.

Karthik Subbaraj's expansive creative vision for Dorothy includes incredibly creative camerawork. He and cinematographer Tirru especially excel with certain scenes realized in unblinking single takes. The best of these is a masterfully realized shot depicting Sabbu coming home to witness the unthinkable: Dorothy’s corpse dangling on a noose. The camera glides around the house as Sabbu processes her rage and confronts each of her toxic family members. This image is fantastically executed, but best of all, it’s deeply potent in characterization.

The camerawork’s uniqueness mirrors how horrifically distinctive this day is for Sabbu. Eschewing cuts also subliminally reinforces how an interconnected tapestry of systemic misogyny ensures horrors like Dorothy’s death transpire. It isn’t “a few bad apples” existing in their own shots. From Whistle to Sabbu’s brother to the corrupt cops, all these forces connect to ensure the dehumanization of marginalized genders. Realizing this discovery through a single take reinforces this miserable truth.

Dorothy thrives on its most imaginative and joyous imagery. Unfortunately, like most audacious movies, there are rough edges here. One of these is casting cis-male performer as a trans woman. The movie's clearly uplifting intent can’t erase the reality of pulling a Danish Girl in its casting. Even Emilia Pérez had its trans performer portray her gangster character back when she was posing as a cis-man. Even more frustrating, though, is Subbaraj’s rote visual depictions of women in agony.

Depictions of women enduring physical abuse litter cinema's history. This mirrors the real-world normalization of the physical abuse of marginalized genders. Toss a rock and you’ll hit a vintage film like L'Atalante or Rocco and His Brothers largely relegating women to just being punched by men. Even films supposedly against this abhorrent behavior can lapse into becoming “misery porn” and solely define their women characters by how many beatings they take on-screen.

Dea Kulumbegashvili's April, Chantal Akerman's Jeanne Dielman, Kathleen Collins' Losing Ground, and other movies utilized distinctive visual schemes to realize women-specific agony. This imbued specificity into lives and hardships usually materializing on-screen derivatively. Unfortunately, Dorothy’s depictions of women suffering physical abuse aren’t realized with much visual uniqueness. Shots of characters like Thangamalar (Muthazhagi) withstanding profound beatings manifest through rudimentary camerawork and editing. Meanwhile, on a writing level, they’re largely defined by their tears and the male-inflicted abuse they endure. The endlessly idiosyncratic camerawork and writing in other Dorothy sequences unfortunately only reinforce this shortcoming.

It’s immensely commendable, though, that these Dorothy problems only emerge because this title’s reach exceeds its grasp. Karthik Subbaraj's ambition proves so compelling that even Dorothy’s shortcomings prove thought-provoking. Anchoring the movie through all these audacious tendencies is one of Dorothy’s greatest attributes: the bond between Karthi and Subbu. The duo is incredibly absorbing right from the initial flashbacks where Subbu walks around his school like a prince (he even bosses around some of the adult staff members). Watching the duo ebb and flow proves an absorbing bedrock to build an entire movie around.

Rich personalities abound in this title, particularly with Jeeva Subramanian’s character. If only she got a proper name in Dorothy. I could’ve watched an entire spin-off movie about this woman who proudly boasts about her validity in the face of Karthi’s prejudices. Given how often trans characters are written as quiet, tortured souls in cinema, Subramanian’s endless exuberance in Dorothy is a welcome breath of fresh air. I certainly wasn’t expecting to witness her excellent acting, let alone any trans material, when I sat down for Dorothy. Leave it to the genius behind Jigarthanda DoubleX to so superbly upend my expectations.