The Evolution Of Renuka Shahane: Womanhood, Patriarchy, And Her Animated Film 'Loop Line'

In a career that spans acting and directing, Renuka Shahane has consistently used her voice to explore the complexities of human relationships, especially within the confines of societal expectations. As she assumes the role of a director for her latest animated Marathi short film, Loop Line, which is slated to be screened at the New York Indian Film Festival, she skilfully delves into a subject that remains uncomfortable yet urgent—emotional abuse within traditional Indian households. In this conversation, Renuka shares what led her to tackle such a powerful theme, the emotional resonance behind her choice of animation, and how this project fits within her broader evolution as a storyteller.

ELLE: What inspired you to explore emotional abuse in Indian traditional families through animation?

Renuka Shahane (RS): The theme is deeply personal to me. I wanted to shed light on the emotional and psychological abuse women face, which is often overlooked. The woman in the story isn’t physically harmed but lives in constant dismissal, gaslighting, and disrespect. This creates a feeling of learned helplessness, where she believes there's no escape or hope for a better life. Her life becomes monotonous, like a machine—no creativity, no joy, just survival. What’s heartbreaking is that many women remain trapped in this cycle, without the courage or means to leave. The film reflects their everyday reality, the drudgery of their lives. Animation felt like the perfect medium because it creates distance—viewers can observe the woman’s struggles and fantasies without being too emotionally tied to a real-life person. It’s a way to show her dream world—where she has some control—while still being grounded in the painful reality.

ELLE: Animation is often seen as a medium for children’s stories. How was it working with such a serious, adult theme?

RS: It was a huge learning experience for me. Animation is incredibly labor-intensive and time-consuming, much more so than live-action. The process was challenging, especially since I was financing it myself. But I was determined to make it happen, despite the industry’s limited understanding of mature, adult animation in India. When I brought the script to Paper Boat Design Studios, they were surprised by the subject matter—animation in India is often seen as children’s entertainment or used for mythological tales. So, to create an animation with such a serious theme was rare. We focused on capturing the reality of the characters and their world, making sure every visual choice aligned with the emotional weight of the story. Once the edit was locked, there was no room for experimentation because animation is so precise—it’s not like live-action where you can tweak shots. It’s an expensive, detailed process. But I found it incredibly rewarding, and it’s something I’m excited to do again. The film’s reception at international festivals, like the CINANIMA Film Festival, has shown me that there’s a global audience for stories like this, even if they’re not commercial in nature.

ELLE: The housewife’s fantasies are powerful. Are they a form of escape or rebellion for her?

RS: I think they’re both. The fantasies serve as a much-needed escape from her mundane, painful reality. In these moments, she’s not just a passive participant in her life; she’s reclaiming space for herself. It’s a rebellion, but not in the traditional sense. Society expects her to physically fight back or leave, but her rebellion is mental—she’s taking control of her thoughts, imagining herself in a place where she’s valued and heard. The scene where she makes fritters while imagining herself in a different world, for example, is a powerful contrast to the reality around her. It’s poignant because even in her dream world, she’s still unseen, still treated as invisible unless she conforms to a certain expectation. The rebellion is subtle but profound—she’s not accepting her reality passively. She’s escaping through her mind, where no one can touch her.

ELLE: Your journey as a director has evolved from Rita to Tribhanga to Loop Line. How have your views on womanhood and patriarchy changed?

RS: My first film, Rita, was very much influenced by my mother’s feminist values. She was a known feminist, and her perspectives on womanhood shaped how I viewed the world. Tribhanga was more personal—it was a story about three generations of women, each with their own struggles, rebellions, and definitions of feminism. It was a chance for me to reflect on my own journey and the different paths women take in navigating patriarchy. Loop Line is different—it’s more observational. It’s not my story, but rather a story about someone else’s life, someone I haven’t lived, and that was both challenging and enlightening. It showed me that feminism and womanhood aren’t one-size-fits-all. There are many ways to be a woman, many paths to self-empowerment, and my growth as a writer has allowed me to step into different shoes—shoes I haven’t worn but can still understand.

ELLE: What’s next for you? What projects are you working on?

RS: I’m working on a Marathi film that’s a bit experimental—it's about racism, and I’m planning to shoot it this year. It’s a topic that’s close to my heart, and it’s a serious, discussion-driven film. My husband often tells me that every story I write is economically viable, and that’s given me the courage to not worry too much about how the market will respond before the story is even out. Sometimes, the audience surprises you. I’m also writing a black comedy, though the script isn’t finished yet. It’s been slow going, but I hope to pitch it by the end of the month. I’m excited to explore different genres—there’s always something new to learn.

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