The 2024 release of Vaazha: Biopic of a Billion Boys marked a significant moment in Malayalam cinema by leveraging the popularity of new media influencers to tell the story of “underperforming” young men. Dismissed by society as vaazha (plantain), a Malayalam term that describes someone as “useless,” these men navigate a world of unforeseen but avoidable problems.
The second film in the Vaazha series titled Vaazha II: Biopic of a Billion Bros was released in early April 2026. The film hit theaters shortly after its release INR 100 Crore Clubwhich cemented the franchise’s status as a commercial powerhouse. Following this success, the third part of the series was announced, this time focusing on girls. However, that is notice “Vaazha 3: Biopic of a Billion Girls” has triggered a wave of digital fears that exposes the deep-rooted misogyny of the current generation.
A scene from Vaazha II: Biopic of a Billion brothers. Photo credit: Imagin Cinemas/WBTS Productions/Shine Screens/Signature Studios/Icon Studios
Despite being heavily male-dominated, the first two films are still some of the least problematic male buddy films to come out in recent years. Unlike many youth films – that of Tamil actor and producer Pradeep Ranganathan Filmography is a case in point — Vaazha does not blame the women for the protagonists’ problems and does not take away women’s agency in order to gain sympathy for the heroes. It simply exists within a male-centered cultural framework without being misogynistic.
The social media reaction to the announcement revealed a deep-rooted hypocrisy in modern Malaysian society amid its illusion of progressiveness and development.
That’s exactly why the announcement of Vaazha 3 is so exciting. How will the franchise implement its “buddy movie” formula to center women’s perspectives? We have seen relatively good glimpses of female friendships in Malayalam films like The Notebook (2006) and Super Sharanya (2022), but these films did not have commercial and critical expectations attached to them, unlike Vazha 3. However, the social media reaction to the announcement revealed a deep-rooted hypocrisy in modern Malaysian society amid its illusion of progressiveness and development.
Decoding male fragility in digital spaces
The announcement of the sequel was immediately met with polarized reactions on social media. Even before a single teaser, poster or cast list was released, there was outrage across a section of the internet. Comments included: “What stories do these women have?” Early marriage, menstruation, labor pains.’ “Mood swings, best friends and (a vulgar slang for sex) etc. will be there.” “Must we lose the thrill of the current Vaazha?”
These “concerned users” were not worried about the script, but were concerned about the shift in focus. Their “concerns” ranged from commercial failure, limited budget and a melodramatic quality to the new film. They also seemed to believe that women’s lives lacked substance that would justify a narrative focused on them. While these responses are a direct reflection of the mindset of the people making these comments, they are also secretly a reflection of the systemic conditions of the Malayalam film industry, the expectations of viewers and the functioning of society.
There is an inherent assumption that male experiences are the universal standard and female experiences are marginal, niche and not commercially viable.
There is an inherent assumption that male experiences are the universal standard and female experiences are marginal, niche and not commercially viable. For example, the Vaazha story is about boys who accidentally injure a teacher while under the influence of drugs. It is highly unlikely that this scenario is representative of the daily life of an average youth in Kerala. Yet it is not dismissed as incoherent. This constructed myth of relatability relies on spectacle: the thrill of seeing ordinary boys blown up into larger-than-life but flawed male heroes in a realistic setting.
However, the idea of women at the center of a commercial genre is considered “unreal” or “unworthy of hype.” These reactions are a textbook expression of male fear that male-centered narratives will be replaced by ones that focus on women for a change.
Malayalam cinema, the manosphere and women-centric narratives
The argument regarding the commercial viability of women’s stories is ironic in itself. Success in the industry is relative and dynamic. Women-centered films and women’s cinema rarely receive large budgets, but they have proven successful before.
For example, Om Shaanti Oshaana was a big hit with one Collection worth INR 10 Croreand this in a year in which the industry suffered a total loss of INR 57 crores. Anjali Menon’s Bangalore Days was also made on a modest budget of INR 9 Crore raised INR 50 crores. Last year, Lokah: Chapter 1 – Chandrawhich featured a female protagonist (and a superhero at that) became one of them Highest grossing Malayalam films any times.
The digital uproar surrounding Vaazha 3 also reflects a dangerous growth in the manosphere in Kerala.
While more female-led narratives are finding a home on OTT platforms, theatrical success still remains a male domain. The assumption that women’s stories have no audience value places men’s stories on a pedestal, regardless of narrative success and commercial viability.
The digital uproar surrounding Vaazha 3 also reflects a dangerous growth in the manosphere in Kerala. Influencers like Akhil Marar have built a huge following by preaching conservative gender roles and reinforcing regressive gender stereotypes. A recent study in the UK found that Generation Z men are more likely to hold patriarchal views, particularly when it comes to marriage, than their older counterparts. We see this in Kerala too, where there are even women content creators represent an acceptable version of femininity This looks progressive, but remains subservient to traditional roles and supports normative femininity.
Vaazha 3’s social media uproar reflects the backlash that filmmaker Anjali Menon faced when she asked“Where are the women in Malayalam cinema?” However, the ensuing controversy paved the way for a productive discourse about gender inequality within the industry and the culture at large. These concerns were only confirmed by the Hema Committee Report that was released a few months later.
Menon’s question was twisted by the manosphere into: “Why do we need women in Malayalam cinema?” The Vaazha team has a unique opportunity to prove these critics wrong by using a successful advertising template to tell the story diverse, gender-specific stories. Whether they succeed remains to be seen, but their outbursts from the manosphere due to their refusal to imagine women’s lives as interesting only reflect their own misogyny.
Ultimately, Vaazha 3 catalyzes a necessary discourse on gender inequality. And in doing so, it is part of a gradual but important shift towards women-centric narratives in Malayalam cinema, recognizing the billions of ways in which women exist and deeming these billions of stories worthy of hitting the screen.
