All We Imagine as Light

She made peace with the young love and embraced it -something she missed on herself- only after she gave herself a closure, a form of confrontation through projection, her own emotional catharsis.

I loved the relationship all three women had with each other, real, quite and safe, yet not too dramatic and unrealistic as you can still sense the distance and emotional complexities between them -as in any human relationship-.

The slow pace of the movie, while I definitely understand that it's not for everyone's liking, made the emotions seen throughout the movie, more felt, amplified..

Note: The track at the final scene was also beautiful and deserves a thank you -from me-.

A powerfully melancholic & profoundly intimate slice of social realism that's further bolstered by outstanding performances from its trio of ladies, All We Imagine As Light is as perceptive as it is patient, as vociferous in its silence as it is contemplative in its portrait and is as expertly crafted as it is sensibly told, thus announcing the arrival of a bold & fresh creative voice from the Indian filmmaking scene.

Written & directed by Payal Kapadia in her feature film debut, the film is an earnest reflection of everyday life in the bustling cosmopolitan that is Mumbai and makes for a sobering observation of the confines & constraints within which women of Indian society exist. Kapadia takes her time to acquaint us with her characters, gives them ample space to breathe and shows their plight & desires with tenderness.

What stands out about Kapadia's direction is the compassion in the sketching of her characters and gentleness with which each scene is shot. The cinematography is breathtaking, illuminating the rain-drenched, dimly-lit streets & spaces of the city in gorgeous colour palette, with camera angles that add to its mesmerising quality while additional enrichment comes from the excellent performances, evocative score & layered depths.

Overall, All We Imagine As Light inclines more towards an arthouse endeavour than mainstream offering and isn't going to satisfy every palate. The first half of the film is thoroughly riveting but once the setting changes from Mumbai to the beach town, the story slows down considerably & its runtime is deeply felt too despite the closure it brings. Ruminating on womanhood, loneliness, female desire & insecurities, Kapadia's film is a poetic meditation on migrant life in modern India.

Light delves into the complex struggles women face in the harsh realities of city life. The film captures the fears and challenges of young, unmarried women dealing with family pressures, a middle-aged woman feeling stuck in her life, and an elderly woman facing homelessness. These portrayals of adulthood's difficulties-loneliness, poor relationships, and uncertain futures-can feel overwhelming and unsettling.

However, the film also offers a glimmer of hope, especially in its final scene, where a sense of possibility shines through, accompanied by uplifting music. It reminds us that despite life's hardships, there is always room for growth, change, and hope for a better future. Light is a poignant reminder that while the struggles of life are real, we have the strength to rise above them and create our own path forward.

This Indian film felt somewhat heavy to watch-partly because it strays far from commercial Bollywood, but also because it shows a different side of India, especially Mumbai: a chaotic, gritty, unforgiving city. Yet what kept me engaged was the script, which never stagnates or repeats itself. It's always moving forward. With its strong character development and layered storytelling, it pulled me in and carried me through.

Prabhay Ninachathellam (translated as The Light We Imagine) follows three women: Prabha (Kani Kusruti), a nurse; Anu (Divya Prabha), also a nurse; and Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam), a cook. All three work at the same hospital. Prabha and Anu are roommates, while Parvaty, their friend, grapples with housing struggles and eventually decides to return to her village.

Director Payal Kapadia crafts something deeply introspective with each of them. I felt Prabha represented the present, Anu the past, and Parvaty the future. In a patriarchal society where fathers dictate their daughters' fates, their stories resonated-not because I've lived their experiences, but because the film conveys them with raw authenticity.

That said, the deliberate pacing and dialogue-heavy focus might test some viewers' patience. It's the film's only real flaw. Still, there are subtle touches of humor (like their drinking sessions or stone-throwing scenes), moments that shatter your heart, and others that make you smile. The ending is simple yet powerful.

In short: A film that observes, with quiet precision, the struggles of women in a world that still seeks to control them. Emotive, reflective, and alive. It demands patience, but the reward is genuine.

I have a profound appreciation for directors who possess this inherent ability to extract moments of intrigue from the monotonous aspects of life.

These filmmakers can illuminate even the most repetitive daily activities in a fresh manner, all while weaving narratives that delve deeper into complexities of human psychology and interpersonal relationships.

Payal Kapadia is one amongst them.

Her exploration of a wife's tiring loneliness, a young woman's sexual desires, and an elderly woman's struggle to leave her beloved home presents three women in circumstances that test their morals, challenge their upbringing, and, most importantly, confront their flawed perspectives.

While I admire Kapadia's narrative prowess, it is evident that the themes she addresses lack sufficient depth for development. The notable absence of conflict restricts the potential for these stories to evolve into something more substantive.

Not suggesting they didn't bear any fruits, but looking at the subjects being discussed, I had hoped for better.