Indian horror films frequently depict marginalised people—especially trans and queer characters—as haunting, enraged figures whose existence is shaped to serve a plot. The editorial cites examples such as Laxmii (2020), which a Google logline describes as "possessed by the spirit of a transgender who is out for revenge." That wording reduces a person to an administrative label: "a transgender."
Many mainstream films turn queer bodies into martyrdom or spectacle: characters suffer beautifully, rage violently, and then are exorcised. The editorial argues rage is tolerated only when contained within fiction. When trans anger appears in real-world politics—toward laws or census definitions—the same audiences and institutions go silent.
Persons (Protection of Rights) Amendment Act, 2026 is presented as more than paperwork. It raises questions about who gets to define someone's existence, whose testimony matters, and which bodies are recognised by the state. The editorial points readers to the Ambedkarian Chronicle for a deeper legal analysis of the Act and its relation to caste and state regulation.
The piece notes a recurring pattern: India's mainstream discourse insists queer identities are Western imports while drawing on indigenous myths of gender fluidity when convenient. That selective retrieval makes marginalised people useful as ritual figures or cultural spectacle, rather than granting them legal rights, autonomy, employment, or the legitimacy to be angry about injustice.
The editorial highlights the proximity of the Act to upcoming census processes. Documentation is framed as a permanent form of control—ghosts can be exorcised, a record cannot be so easily ignored. Cinematic portrayals that teach audiences to fear the rage of those at the margins can influence how citizens interpret legal reforms and bureaucratic categories.
Caste, cinema, and the structure of fear
Suggested reading referenced by the piece
- Act for legal context.
- Writings by Ruth Vanita on historical and mythological complexity around gender in India.
Indian horror often teaches viewers to fear marginalised people by converting lived injustice into spectacle. That cultural lesson matters for how society reacts to legal changes that determine recognition, documentation, and rights. The editorial asks readers to notice the link between what films normalize—fear of marginalised rage—and what laws make permanent—who counts on paper.