‘To Kill a Tiger’ Depicts an Indian Father as a Model for Male Allyship

In her documentary To Kill a Tiger, which won the prize for best Canadian film at the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival, filmmaker Nisha Pahuja tackles the most harrowing subject of her career: the fight of an Indian farmer to demand justice for his 13-year-old daughter, Kiran, after she was gang-raped by three men in 2017. Pahuja — who was born in New Delhi and raised in Toronto — reveals how it felt to capture Ranjit’s unprecedented journey and what his fight means for women suffering from India’s epidemic of violence.

When and how did you first hear about the heinous crimes committed against Ranjit’s daughter Kiran?

I’d been following the work of activists in northeastern India from the Srijan Foundation and the Centre for Health and Social Justice. They’d implemented a gender sensitization program in the state of Jharkhand for men and boys in 30 villages across the state. Ranjit was in the program, and I asked if I could film them meeting with him for the first time when he shared what had happened to his daughter. I had no idea what would happen next.

As of 2021, a rape was committed against women in India roughly every 16 minutes. What is driving men like Ranjit to participate in these programs?

Grassroots activism in India is really incredible. There is a robust system in place of trying to make change, so that’s not particularly unusual. What is unusual is the work they are doing to educate men about the epidemic of violence against women. We didn’t get into this in the film, but Ranjit actually grew up without a father; he had abandoned the family. So Ranjit grew up with tremendous respect for women and single mothers.

What were your first impressions of Ranjit and Kiran as they shared the horrors of her experience with you?

I’ve never been in a situation where I landed on someone’s doorstep with a camera after such a horrific tragedy. I was filled with a kind of guilt.

Like, “I don’t want to exploit this situation.”

Yes. “Should I be doing this?” It was only four or five days after the attacks.

Wow. So they were likely still in shock.

They were absolutely still processing it. But they were really grateful for the NGO and the opportunity to speak. There was no hesitation on their part. So we filmed the first conversation between Ranjit and Amit, the young activist who works for the Srijan Foundation.

Because Kiran was only 13 at the time of the attacks, you never intended to show her face in the film. How difficult was it to navigate that piece of the storytelling?

Correct. Originally her story was going to be one of three interwoven into a larger story about masculinity. We’d been strategizing how to include her in a way that felt artful and didn’t negate her humanity. We even found an actress in Toronto to “lend her face” to Kiran. But that presented a larger ethical implication for me: By obscuring her, was I perpetuating the prejudice that the film was critiquing?

Right ­— assigning more shame to victims like Kiran by not showing her face.

Exactly. And by the way, Ranjit never wanted us to hide her face. He’s actually more of a feminist than his wife!

When did Kiran consent to being shown onscreen?

When she saw the finished film for the first time, she was 18. She said, “I cannot believe the courage of that 13-year-old.” She said she wanted to show her face to encourage other survivors to come forward. “If we can do this, other people can do it.”

Ranjit reveals in the film that villagers were threatening his family because of his choice to pursue legal action against Kiran’s attackers. Were you ever afraid for your own safety?

I definitely was in the scene where the villagers were literally threatening us and we had to leave. Mostly I worried that our presence had created a rupture in the village, that we were deepening existing fissures. But the family wanted us to keep filming, and that’s all that mattered.

Without spoiling the 2018 results of the case for those who haven’t seen the film: How did telling this story change you as a storyteller? What are you proudest of?

I’ve been making films for a long time and, after this one, I finally feel like a director. I knew instinctively what it needed and how powerful it could be. The family is so special, I wasn’t going to let it go until I had done my very best. I’m so proud that reports of assaults have gone up precipitously since Kiran shared her story. It really speaks to her power and to what Ranjit represents in terms of how crucial male allyship is to helping keep women safe. 

This story first appeared in a December standalone issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.