Shocking Twist in ‘All We Imagine as Light’: Sisterhood Triumphs Over Big-City Blues!

Life comes with its fair share of disappointments, as do films. However, every so often, a film appears that courageously suggests there’s a link between our shared experiences of life’s pains and letdowns — that simply feeling these with others is enough. The characters explore questions such as: Why doesn’t my partner want to be with me? Where can my boyfriend and I go without facing judgement? Can’t I just have some peace and quiet in my own apartment? By voicing these sentiments, they build an empathetic connection.

In a subtle and nuanced manner, “All We Imagine as Light” addresses all these questions, creating a rich, mesmerizing sense of ennui. This film is the brainchild of writer and director, Payal Kapadia, a Mumbai native. However, the Mumbai she presents isn’t the chaotic metropolis seen in “Slumdog Millionaire” or “Monkey Man”. Instead, she portrays a rainy city, characterized by faceless crowds and confined spaces.

The film follows a middle-aged nurse, Prabha (Kani Kusruti), who works in a hospital, where her firm but caring demeanor is of great value in caring for the elderly and ill. She shares her apartment with Anu (Divya Prabha), a younger woman who is behind on her rent and brings home a pregnant cat. Prabha’s husband, who moved to Germany for work years ago, is virtually absent in her life. Periodic tensions crop up between the two women, followed by mutual unspoken forgiveness. Anu is in a relationship with Shiaz (Hridu Haroon), a Muslim man, a fact she must keep hidden from her traditional family and society.

However, Kapadia’s storytelling is not gloomy. There’s a sophisticated, pragmatic, and whimsical touch to her work. (She has acknowledged her admiration for Hong Kong filmmaker Wong Kar-wai’s films, and her understanding of his work is evident, as is the influence of her cinematographer, Ranabir Das.) The film’s soundtrack features a piano motif that feels as fluid as raindrops or as spontaneous as a couple trying on sunglasses in an outdoor market. A mysterious package arrives from Germany containing a rice cooker but no note – what could this mean? Nightly, a train passes by their window, its path illuminated by the yellow lights of other apartments. Meanwhile, Prabha’s friend Parvati (Chhaya Kadam), a hospital cook and widow, faces eviction but responds with remarkable resilience, throwing stones at the developer’s sign.

“All We Imagine as Light” exudes such confidence and expertise in depicting a sparkling yet disconnected Mumbai and the nuanced inner lives of its main female characters that it was a letdown for film enthusiasts when it failed to be India’s entry for the Academy Awards in September. This snub is significant not due to a difference in taste — selection committees often make mistakes — but because it hints at something more troubling. The president of India’s selection committee said, “The jury said that they were watching a European film taking place in India, not an Indian film taking place in India.”

Does portraying women’s dissatisfaction not fit into the Indian narrative? (This is a problem Hollywood faces too.) The fate of Kapadia’s Oscar campaign should be a small bit in the larger discourse around the movie, which won an award at Cannes. Ideally, its success should be a sufficient rebuttal.

However, there’s a political aspect to Kapadia’s work that becomes apparent about halfway through the film, when the narrative and the characters break free from their constraints. Parvati, having lost her home, returns to the coastal village of her childhood, with Prabha and Anu accompanying her. (Shiaz also joins them later.) Their unity energizes the film, steering it into unexpected, almost magical territories. A romantic scene in a cave strikes a balance between ancient mystery and present-day joys, a complex moment that would make Roberto Rossellini of “Voyage to Italy” proud.

Spoiling the viewer’s experience of watching Kapadia’s film metamorphose and reinvent itself would be unfortunate. It’s as if the director herself is facing a crucial decision: to portray women in all their complexity, feeling frustrated and neglected? Or to provide them with an escape? The answer, as proposed by a filmmaker as promising as Kapadia, is straightforward. We need both.