Independent
WIFT: WOOING WOMEN
Women are increasingly blazing a trail in the world of film and television these days. But one is disappointed when one looks at how the ladies are faring as far as the Women in Film & Television (WIFT) association is concerned. More than a year after its formation it has only 300 odd members.
“We fail to understand why people are still hesitant about joining. Maybe we need to be more out there (sic). We want people to spread the word so that we can help as many women as possible,” says WIFT founder Petrina M D’Rozario.
The association is dedicated to advancing professional development and achievement for women working in all areas of film, video, and other screen-based media.
Her association with the organisation goes back a long way when she was studying in New Zealand. When she came back to India, she thought of starting the Indian arm of the global society. Internationally, the association has organised various forums wherein people from the industry have come forward to help each other and the ones who want to enter the ‘glamourous’ world of entertainment. There are 44 chapters all across the world with over 14,000 members.
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Petrina D‘Rozario launched the India chapter of WIFT
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“After completing my studies and job, when I got back, I thought to myself that there could be nothing better than meet people from the industry through the platform of Wift. I had made a lot of friends in New Zealand through the platform. When I found out that that there was no Wift in India, I thought of starting the platform where like-minded women filmmakers and women in the industry can meet, talk, discuss and help each other.”
Petrina personally went and met senior women professionals in the industry and got them on its advisory board. There are 11 advisory board members with the likes of Kiran Rao, Anupma Chopra, Jeroo Mulla, Lynn DeSouza and many more. There are three board members including Petrina. Film critic and editor, Uma da Cunha and media relations professional Riddhi Wallia are the other members.
“I was approached by Petrina to join the association when I was heading Colors. I was so impressed and charged by the aim of Wift that I didn‘t hesitate once to confirm my support. An impetus behind joining was to help tap talent and support women across the country to have a safe destination and network to get a foothold in the entertainment (film/television) and media industries which we all know is a very competitive field. I was keen to do my part to help all women including those from marginalised communities to have the correct and best chance to enter the industry,” recounts Grazing Goat Pictures co-founder Ashvini Yardi.
The association doesn’t want to be known as a sorority. It is no kitty-party gang, but aims to provide opportunities to other women to interact as well as network, helping them grow in the field. “If a media student joins us, we ensure that she meets people like Kiran Rao, Zoya Akhtar and the likes. This gives the student a chance to learn from them,” says Petrina.
Through its mentoring scheme WIFT looks at matching professional members with experienced practitioners for mentoring over a six month period or as designed by the mentor. The scheme is designed to increase women‘s skills, knowledge, networks and confidence as they build their careers. The mentors include the cream of the industry across disciplines like Tanuja Chandra (Director), Deepa Bhatia (Editor), Anjuli Shukla (Cinematographer), Zoya Akhtar (Director), Kiran Rao (Director),Paromita Vohra (Documentary Filmmaker), Onir (Director), Aarti Bajaj (Editor) and Akeev Ali (Editor).
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Ashini Yardi feels that WIFT is a brilliant platform which provides direction and support to women who have dared to dream
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Filmmaker, producer and activist Madhusree Dutta who is an advisory member says that such organisations are very much needed because there is a need to provide a cohesive working space in what has male-dominated industry. “One might wonder what travails can people like Kiran or Anupma or me go through. The association isn’t about what we are going through now. It is about what we have gone through and do not want them to tread the same path. We want a better place and want to help women in the industry,” says Dutta while explaining her association with WIFT.
So, does it plan to revolutionise the industry? ‘No’, comes the prompt reply from Petrina. “We are not here to ‘change’ the world because we can’t even do that. We are no big shakers who can make changes or bring a revolution in the industry individually; it all happens collectively through the course of time.”
However, there are challenges it faces. “If you follow the crowd, there won’t be any but if you go against the tide, there will be challenges,” she says. The shortage of funds is the biggest roadblack. “In a city like Mumbai, one needs to pay-up for even putting a toe at some place. So, when we want to screen films or organise events or workshops, we do face monetary issues.”
But she is quick to add that there are many who are willing to help them and provide venues at low or no cost to hold various events as it is for a good cause. The association aims to have events – workshop, film screenings, and discussion forms – every two weeks. And they are for women only. “However, during workshops men are allowed,” laughs Petrina.
WIFT just finished one such event – The Red Dot Film Festival. The three-day festival (23, 24, 25 August) was held at the Films Division in Mumbai. The movies featured were by national award-winning filmmakers, actors, editors, and writers cutting across languages, forms and styles. Among them were I Am Micro, Paradesi, Celluloid Man, and many more.
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Madhusree Dutta wants the industry to become a cohesive place for women to work
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The organisation feels that films are a medium, which touch millions of lives, and therefore they have the potential to bring about a societal change, even if it is one step at a time. Be it women-centric films, which give conventional commercial flicks a run for their money. Women lyricists and music composers are taking the traditional male bastions by storm. Women writers and directors are winning international accolades for their portrayal of sensitive subjects and women actors and producers balance creativity with commercial success. The world is changing, step by step, with these exceptional women acting as the torchbearers, showing the way for the aspiring millions. Hence, the hope is that these women and WIFT will end up being the true champions of women empowerment.
Petrina says she is hopeful WIFT’s numbers will rise. “We have kept membership low at Rs 2,000 a year for professionals and Rs 700 for students,” she says. “We would love to have many more than what we have currently.”
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Karisma Kapoor and Shobha De at the launch of The Red Dot Film Festival
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Internationally, WIFT organizes regular get togethers like luncheons, special events, high teas to foster exchange of ideas between its members and the association has almost become a movement for women in the TV and film trade. The numbers in India too will surely rise over time, there’s no doubt, as WIFT starts getting more active and word of mouth spreads amongst the army of women who are defining film and television today.
But don’t be surprised by the first words you hear if you are a woman in media and you happen to be introduced to Petrina. “Are you a member of WIFT? If you are not, then it’s high time that you did.”
With Petrina as chief evangelist, you’ll hear a lot of WIFT in the coming weeks, months and years. More power to her elbow!
MUMBAI: While Hindi cinema churns out its usual fare of high-octane spectacles and star vehicles, a parallel universe of Indian cinema has been quietly collecting accolades on the world stage. These are films without marquee names, films that premiered at Cannes and Sundance, films that made critics weep and festival audiences stand in ovation. Yet back home, most of them barely managed a whimper at the box office.
It’s a peculiar paradox. International juries hand them top prizes, streaming platforms chase their rights, and foreign critics pen glowing reviews. But in India, these films struggle to find screens, audiences, or even basic awareness. They’re the best-kept secrets of Indian cinema, hiding in plain sight.
Homebound might be the poster child for this phenomenon. Neeraj Ghaywan’s searing drama about migrant workers journeying home during the pandemic premiered at Cannes in the prestigious Un Certain Regard section. Martin Scorsese signed on as executive producer. It became India’s official Oscar entry for 2026. At the Toronto International Film Festival, it finished as second runner-up for the People’s Choice Award. Yet when it released theatrically in September 2025, it collected just Rs 3.04 crore. Netflix picked it up, where it finally found a wider audience, but the theatrical indifference speaks volumes about how little appetite exists for such stories in multiplexes.
Don’t Tell Mother takes us into even more uncomfortable territory. Anoop Lokur’s Kannada-language drama about a nine-year-old boy navigating violence at school and emotional suffocation at home had its world premiere at the 30th Busan International Film Festival. Produced by Mikayl Henke and Matthew Jenkins, and co-produced by Karan Kadam and Nishil Sheth, the film examines how fear, shame, and patriarchy shape childhood through a child’s unflinching gaze. It had limited prestige screenings in Bengaluru and Mumbai but hasn’t properly released yet. Mubi is expected to stream it in 2026. The theatrical revenue? Negligible. But the international critical response? Rapturous.
Sabar Bonda (or Cactus Pears, as it’s known internationally) won the Grand Jury Prize in the World Cinema Dramatic category at Sundance. Not a minor feat for any film, let alone a Marathi-language debut exploring queer desire in rural Maharashtra. Director Rohan Parshuram Kanawade crafted something rare: a film about grief and suppressed longing that feels both deeply local and utterly universal. It managed a respectable Rs 3 to 4 crore at the Indian box office in September 2025, which counts as a strong indie performance. But for a Sundance winner, you’d expect more buzz, more screens, more conversations.
Vimukt (In Search of the Sky) took home the Netpac Award for Best Asian Film at TIFF. Jitank Singh Gurjar’s portrait of an elderly couple bringing their mentally challenged son to the Maha Kumbh Mela is achingly tender, filmed with a documentary-like intimacy in the heart of Braj. It got limited screenings through PVR INOX’s “Director’s Rare” programme and earned less than Rs 50 lakh. Netflix is apparently in talks, but for now, it remains largely unseen.
Songs of Forgotten Trees made history at Venice. Anuparna Roy became the first Indian woman to win the Best Director prize in the Orizzonti section for her film about two migrant women forming a fragile bond on Mumbai’s fringes. It’s currently touring international festivals and hasn’t even attempted a proper Indian release yet. The film exists in that rarefied space where critical prestige and commercial viability rarely overlap.
Jugnuma: The Fable became the first Indian film ever to win Best Film at the Leeds International Film Festival. It premiered at Berlinale in the Encounters section. Shot on 16mm film stock, Raam Reddy’s mythic journey through Himalayan landscapes stars Manoj Bajpayee and Tillotama Shome. It released in September 2025 and is now streaming on Zee5, where it earned somewhere between Rs 5 to 6 crore. Not terrible, but hardly the returns you’d expect for a film of this pedigree.
Baksho Bondi (Shadow Box) premiered at Berlinale and earned Tillotama Shome the Best Actor (Female) award at South Asia Fest in Toronto. This gritty, experimental Bengali film about a working-class woman shouldering economic survival whilst her husband battles PTSD released in August 2025. It made roughly Rs 1.5 crore and is now available for rent on Apple TV and Prime Video. Brilliant, difficult, necessary cinema that most people will never see.
Angammal won Best Indie Film and Best Actress at the Indian Film Festival of Melbourne 2025. Based on a story by celebrated Tamil writer Perumal Murugan, it follows an elderly widow in rural Tamil Nadu quietly rebelling against social conventions. It released on December 5, 2025, made about Rs 2 crore, and is streaming on SunNXT. Another powerful film that barely registered beyond festival circuits.
Boong premiered at TIFF and received a Special Mention at IFFM 2025. The film tells the story of a young boy searching for his missing father against Manipur’s troubled backdrop. Produced by Farhan Akhtar’s Excel Entertainment, it managed just Rs 80 lakh to Rs 1 crore during its limited September release. No OTT platform has been announced yet. Director Lakshmipriya Devi crafted something tender and politically resonant, but it vanished almost instantly from theatres.
Honourable mention: Su From So
Not every indie film gets ignored, though. Su From So is the glorious exception that proves the rule. JP Thuminad’s strange, eerie comedy about a coastal Karnataka town descending into collective madness became a breakout hit on the international festival circuit. Then something remarkable happened: it also became a massive commercial success in India. Released on July 25, 2025, it earned Rs 125 crore worldwide, making it one of the highest-grossing Kannada films ever. It’s now streaming on Amazon Prime Video.
Su From So shows what made it different. Perhaps its genre-bending approach, mixing folklore with horror and humour in ways that felt fresh. Perhaps it simply caught the zeitgeist. Or perhaps it’s a reminder that Indian audiences will embrace unconventional cinema when it’s marketed properly and given a proper release. The question is why this level of support remains so rare.
The pattern is clear and depressing. Indian indie films win at Sundance, Cannes, Venice, Berlin, and Toronto. They collect prizes, critical raves, and international distribution deals. Then they come home to empty theatres, minimal marketing budgets, and audiences who’ve never heard of them. The multiplexes won’t give them screens. The distributors won’t take risks. The audiences won’t show up, partly because they don’t know these films exist.
It’s a strange kind of cultural blindness. We celebrate when an Indian film does well abroad, but only if it arrives with the right pedigree or star power attached. These smaller, fiercer, more personal films get lost in the shuffle. They’re too art house for mainstream audiences, too unmarketable for wide release, too challenging for easy consumption.
Yet they represent some of the most vital, urgent cinema being made in India today. They tackle caste, class, gender, sexuality, and trauma with unflinching honesty. They experiment with form and language. They trust their audiences to think, feel, and engage. They’re the films future generations will study when they want to understand what India actually felt like in 2025.
For now, though, they remain hidden treasures, waiting to be discovered by viewers willing to look beyond the multiplex offerings. The world has already noticed them. Perhaps it’s time India did too.
