Bollywood hasn’t always been kind to South Indian people. Bollywood’s representation of South Indians can be summed up in one word: caricature.
How does Bollywood think every South Indian is a man named Ramu who wears a lungi, drinks coconut water and is born with an accent so thick that it defies even the most generous Hindi subtitles? Because Bollywood, this isn’t just a missed shot—it’s a cinematic crime.
Page Contents
The beginning
Bollywood began shaming South Indians from the very beginning; think of our parents’ times. But again, this was also when subtle colourism was normalised, and people didn’t think much of it. However, Bollywood’s subtle colourism did affect how people from other parts of India looked at South Indian states.
Let’s go back to Padosan, a “classic” that should be required viewing if you want to understand how Bollywood has been misrepresenting South Indians since before colour TV. In the iconic song Ek Chatur Naar, Mehmood appears as the “Madrasi” music teacher. He’s painted dark, speaks in exaggerated Tamil-accented Hindi, and is just one stereotype shy of doing the lungi dance.
The song itself? It’s catchy, sure, but listen to the lyrics, and you’ll find jabs at his appearance and his “backward” ways—subtle jabs, but still there. And the way they played up his skin color? Saying “Ja re ja re kaale kaaga” or go off you black crow. If this song came out in this generation, South Indians would throw their hands.
Also, read:
Problematic Fat Shaming In Bollywood Movies That We Didn’t Need
Accents for laughs
Regional accents can be funny, but Bollywood turns the South Indian accent into a full-blown cartoon, something for people to point at and laugh at.
Take Chennai Express with Deepika Padukone’s Tamilian character, Meenamma. It’s not that Deepika can’t act (she absolutely can), but the entire movie leans into this loud, exaggerated, and frankly outdated version of “South Indian,” complete with her exclaiming “Ayyo!” every five minutes like it’s the only word in her vocabulary.
In the process, any nuance in her character—her aspirations, quirks, and the richness of her Tamil culture—is completely buried under a laugh track.
Also, read:
Wrong Lessons That Taarak Mehta Ka Ooltah Chashmah Teaches Us
The “One South Indian” Stereotype
This is where Bollywood gets it wrong again and again. South India isn’t one big state where everyone dances to dappankuthu and eats dosa daily.
We’re talking about five significant states here—Andhra Pradesh, Telangana, Karnataka, Kerala, and Tamil Nadu—each with distinct languages, histories, and traditions. But Bollywood has long embraced the “One South Indian to rule them all” approach, where a character is given an accent, a lungi, and a coconut, and boom! You’ve got yourself a South Indian. What about the depth, the diversity, or the uniqueness?
The “Overly Traditional” Stereotype
South Indian characters are often shown as overly conservative or traditional, as if South India is untouched by modernity. Bollywood makes it seem like every South Indian family is strict, deeply religious, and resistant to change; remember Ananya Swaminathan’s family in 2 States?
This trope ignores the reality of urban centres like Bengaluru, Chennai, and Hyderabad, where tech and culture intersect seamlessly.
Also, read:
Toxic Relationships Bollywood Sells As True Love
The South Indian Villain Trope
When South Indians do get significant roles, it’s often as antagonists. If Bollywood needs a brutal, violent, or morally ambiguous character, the “Southern mafia don” or “corrupt politician from down South” trope is all too familiar. Think Tangaballi from Chennai Express.
By portraying South Indians as villains, Bollywood reinforces the idea that Southern characters are somehow more “foreign” or “other.”
These characters are rarely developed beyond their villainy and are often shown as cunning, dark-skinned, and ruthless, perpetuating stereotypes without nuance.
Colourism
Let’s touch on the elephant in the room: colourism. It’s not just about accents and stereotypes—it’s about the not-so-subtle message that fair skin is “hero” material and darker skin is… comedic, maybe even villainous. South Indian characters are often shown with visibly darker makeup, implying that darker skin is a punchline.
I wish I could say things have changed, but as recently as Housefull 4, we saw the same tired tropes dusted off and repackaged as comedy. Bollywood, are we still here? Really?
There’s a Better Way
I’m not saying Bollywood has to stop including South Indians altogether. If anything, it should include them more authentically!
We have such rich stories, characters, and histories to share. Look at movies like Bahubali or Pushpa—they showcased South Indian characters and culture in all their glory, with no accents or coconut jokes required. And guess what? Audiences loved it, proving that people enjoy seeing South Indians as fully-formed characters, not cartoons.
Bollywood, if you’re listening, here’s my request: When you write your next “South Indian” character, maybe skip the accent and the coconut oil and show them as an actual person with goals, dreams, and normal skin tones.