Tees

In director Dibakar Banerjee’s Tees, three generations of a Kashmiri family grapple with identity, erasure, and a desire to be heard in an ever-evolving and increasingly intolerant India. It is cruelly ironic, therefore, that the movie itself has been throttled like its characters. Originally titled Freedom, the ambitious saga has effectively been caged on a hard disk by the paranoid Netflix. But despite being denied a release by the streamer, Tees was presented in its complete form at the 13th Dharamshala International Film Festival recently, with Banerjee present to soak in the warmth that seemed to be emanating from the hundreds of pilgrims who queued up for it on a winter evening. Tees opens, rather worryingly, with a scene that wouldn’t feel out of place in Banerjee’s latest, Love Sex Aur Dhoka 2, which was more an act of self-immolation than self-expression, if we’re being honest. A computer-generated black cat walks towards us, before it is revealed to be the internet avatar of a human being looking for a connection. The year is 2042, and a young writer named Anhad Draboo (Shashank Arora) appears rattled by the rejection of his rebellious verses by an overbearing government.