It was in a moment most unkind to any heroine—drenched in sweat and weary from a long walk through the sun-scorched streets of Angamaly—that Meenakshi Jayan first met her director, Sivaranjini J. “My phone’s display was half-broken back then—and Siva imagined her title character, Victoria, as someone who would have a broken phone too!” says Meenakshi, who won the Golden Goblet Award for Best Actress in the Asia New Talent category at the Shanghai International Film Festival.
Set inside a beauty parlour, Victoria, Sivaranjini’s debut feature, delves deep into the female psyche. The film’s titular character, Victoria, is a beautician whose routine takes an unexpected turn when a rooster falls under her care during her commute, prompting her to bring it to the parlour. The rooster—subtly suggestive of a male presence—becomes a quirky, symbolic intrusion in this otherwise all-female space. Against this backdrop, women from varied backgrounds open up, share their stories, and find solace in one another.
Having begun her journey in Malayalam cinema as a dubbing artist in 2016, Meenakshi appeared in a few short films before starring in a lead role for the first time in Victoria. “Back in 2023, I was eager to do everything that came my way,” she says. “But when the audition call mentioned they were specifically looking for someone with an Angamaly accent, I thought I’m probably not getting this. But I also knew that if I wanted to be a lead actor someday, I had to be ready to adapt—what if a director asked me to switch accents? I saw it as a challenge. So I went to Angamaly with a friend. We wandered around, chatted with conductors, meat sellers, and textile shop workers, and, unknown to them, recorded the conversations. At one shop, they even made me try on clothes. When they realised I wasn’t buying anything, their faces dropped. I felt so guilty that I bought a shirt.”
On her way back, Meenakshi called the casting team and asked if they knew anyone from Angamaly with whom she could chat to get the accent right. “That’s when they said, ‘Why not speak to the director herself? She’s at the Angamaly bus stand right now’,” recalls Meenakshi.
At that unplanned meeting at the bus stand, a deep actor-director bond was formed. Meenakshi was cast in the lead role and began immersing herself in preparation. She enrolled in a beautician crash course in Angamaly and began perfecting the local accent under the guidance of academic Anu K. Antony.
The spark for Victoria first struck Sivaranjini during a visit to a parlour for threading, and that very parlour later became Meenakshi’s training ground. “I was more or less an apprentice there—helping out during haircuts, sweeping the floor, and observing how they threaded eyebrows. I’d watch and learn, and once the customers left, the beauticians would teach me. For them, every day was like Victoria’s—just endless work,” says Meenakshi.
During pre-production, the team stayed at a flat near Angamaly. Meenakshi would spend her days at the parlour and her evenings rehearsing lines. “I ended up learning more than what the role required—pedicures, manicures, everything,” she says.
Meenakshi poured her heart into perfecting her role, determined to make the most of her childhood dream of becoming a female lead. “As a kid, I was obsessed with Shah Rukh Khan. My goal was to grow up, become a heroine and marry him,” she laughs.
But growing up, that dream began to dim. “I didn’t think I had the looks for it,” she admits. “Then puberty hit, and I thought—maybe I’m not that bad. Eventually, I felt, okay, I’m sexy. That’s when I told myself that no matter what, I will become an actress.”
Life had other plans. After her father died in an accident, she chose the safer path—engineering—like most middle-class families. “In college, I was already dubbing for films and tutoring to earn money. I had started planning things financially,” she says.
After graduation, Meenakshi joined the ed-tech company Byju’s for a short stint. “I had a salary target in mind. I told myself that the day I hit that number, I would quit. And when that figure appeared on my payslip, I resigned,” she says. Then came a period of waiting, until she landed a role that let her dive into the reservoir of emotions within her. “It’s rare for a female actor to get such a layered, well-written lead role—especially on debut. Usually, you have to ‘make it’ first. But this was different,” she says.
When Victoria premiered at the International Film Festival of Kerala last December, the response was mixed. Some male viewers questioned the absence of male characters, while others took issue with the symbolic presence of a rooster in a female-only space—especially since it later becomes a sacrificial bird.
“But in Shanghai, no one asked where the men were. That question came only from Kerala,” Meenakshi points out. “They were more curious about the existing taboos in Indian society about women who go to a beauty parlour or indulge in self-care. They were also asking about the unique religious ritual of sacrificing a rooster—probably because they do not experience religion as we experience it here.” However, Meenakshi notes that the core elements of Victoria’s character—relationship struggles, anxiety—are universal. “Everyone understood her. They understood why she does what she does,” she says. “I could see people were stunned and moved. And I was reminded of what Bong Joon-ho, director of the film Parasite, once said: ‘Once you overcome the one-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films’.”