Kapadia’s A Night of Knowing Nothing had already won the Golden Eye for Best Documentary at Cannes in 2021
Illustration/Uday Mohite
Payal Kapadia’s incandescent, poetically titled film, All We Imagine as Light, is gearing up for its Oscar chukker. It is an India, France, Netherlands, Luxembourg and Italy co-production, with France’s Thomas Hakim and Julian Graff (Petit Chaos) as primary producers, along with Zico Maitra and team’s Chalk & Cheese Films. The film was on the French shortlist for their Oscar entry, before they chose Jacques Audiard’s Emilia Perez; now it’s up to India. It is so revealing that big bucks Bollywood did not care to back this shining jewel, a debut fiction feature that won the Grand Prix at Cannes; it was the first Indian film in 30 years to be in Cannes Competition, and led by a woman director at that; it was also at the Toronto International Film Festival, TIFF. But Telugu actor Rana Daggubati’s Spirit Media acquired its India distribution rights, and is theatrically releasing the film this weekend in Kerala, to qualify for India’s Oscar entry for Best International Feature Film. Kapadia’s A Night of Knowing Nothing had already won the Golden Eye for Best Documentary at Cannes in 2021.
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All We Imagine as Light is an exquisite film on love, loneliness and loss in the big city. It explores the sisterly solidarity between two Kerala nurses Prabha (Kani Kusruti) and Anu (Divya Prabha), who work in a Mumbai hospital, along with their colleague Parvathy (Chhaya Kadam). Prabha’s estranged husband in Germany suddenly sends her a shiny red rice cooker: is this a parting gift? Meanwhile, when she is tenderly wooed by a hospital doctor (Aziz Nedumangad), she is unable to accept his love. In contrast, the younger, bindaas Anu has an affair with her Muslim lover, Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon). When Parvathy’s house is being demolished by greedy developers, and she is forced to return to her village, Prabha and Anu go along. Here, away from the pressure cooker of the city, on the green Konkan coast, there are scenes suggesting dream-like metaphors, as the women bond and come closer to the emotional truth of their desires. I will never forget the silent tear on Kani Kusruti’s cheek when yet again, a tender love flows into her life. And how fascinating that Payal Kapadia, a director with roots in north west India, should direct a film in Malayalam, from India’s extreme south, with some Hindi.
The direction is assured and delicate: Kapadia’s screenplay lets her resonant images talk, keeping the dialogues minimal, yet eloquent. Her screenplay is also political, making reference to poor people without kaagaz (papers), as well as a feminist critique: Parvathy is a widow: her house is being demolished because she has no ownership papers: worldwide, women rarely have their names on land or property. She also shows a worker’s protest—with photos of social reformers Jyotiba Phule and Savitri Phule—implying both low class and “low” caste workers. Kani Kusruti, Divya Prabha and Chhaya Kadam put in superb performances, particularly Kusruti. Ranabir Das’ cinematography is gorgeous. For instance, there is an exquisite poetry in the scene where Prabha, returning home, holds the speeding train door bar, a tired melancholy in her eyes but the wind in her hair: you get the feeling of a carousel, the carousel of life, that she faces with equanimity. Contrast this with a scene where Anu, who has bought a burqa in anticipation of a secret tryst at Shiaz’s place that is suddenly called off, rips off the burqa in frustration, the blur of the speeding train behind her underlining her emotions in turmoil. Again, Anu texts Shiaz that she is sending him kisses through the clouds, as it starts to rain kisses on him; while Prabha races to get the laundry from the terrace clothesline as it pours. And when Prabha and the doctor sit still on children’s swings, and he asks if there is any reason he should stay in the city, but she is still fearful of accepting love and happiness, we feel the haunting sting of an unrequited romance.
The film gazes at the underbelly of the city—not those cheap ‘ketchup criminals’ populating our web series--but vegetable sellers, haathgaadiwaalas, labourers—but it is such a tender, compassionate gaze. Clément Pinteaux’s editing is good, with discreet music by Dhritiman Das. According to Variety, Sideshow and top notch Janus Films have jointly acquired the North American (US and Canada) rights to the film, with Luxbox doing world sales, so the film has solid backing—and richly deserved too. This is a rare film—political, poetic and haunting—all at the same time. Go to Kerala if you have to see it ASAP.
Meenakshi Shedde is India and South Asia Delegate to the Berlin International Film Festival, National Award-winning critic, curator to festivals worldwide and journalist.
Reach her at meenakshi.shedde@mid-day.com