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The Modest Yet Palpable Vigour of All We Imagine as Light

Ranabir Das’s cinematography in All We Imagine as Light is nothing very spontaneous or vivid or creative, from a technical standpoint -and it is often in fact a bit dim in the dispassionate claustrophobia of its world; but there is an impenetrable radiance to it nonetheless. It’s somewhat mistifying for so humble a film. But then, the most unassuming movies can still often be the most beautiful. One of my favourite filmmakers is Yasujirō Ozu, who proved that statement better than anyone. And that spirit of Ozu, and those many greats who have followed in his footsteps, certainly permeates Payal Kapadia’s absorbing and intimate portrait of the lives of three working women in modern Mumbai.
They are two nurses and a cook. The disciplined Prabha (Kani Kusruti) is efficient and organizational, and whose job involves teaching the younger nurses, including her roommate Anu (Divya Prabha), a more vivacious freer spirit. Anu is secretly in a relationship with Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon), a Muslim boy  -something taboo by the conservative inclinations of her family as well as some of those in her everyday life. Prabha meanwhile is estranged by her husband in Germany, who she pines for but whom she’s scarcely met but once at their wedding and hasn’t spoken to in over a year. Her close friend Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam), who works in the hospital kitchen, is fighting vainly against her residence being demolished by opportunistic capitalists to make way for another skyscraper.
These women are all Malayali, originating from the southwestern part of India with their own distinct culture and language. And it contributes significantly to how they and Kapadia cast them as outsiders in the busy Hindi-dominant metropolis of Mumbai. They have each adapted in their own way, but they are nonetheless isolated, both within the story, which gives them few relationships with anyone but fellow outsiders, and by the camera, which captures this in both a tender sense -Anu and Shiaz close and confident on their bus rides home- and in a delicately lonesome sense -Prabha by herself at a window seat with a wizened expression as she gazes forward, deep in thought.
Kapadia emphasizes these moments of sharp personal routine -the rest of the bus might as well not exist- and especially for Prabha, concentrates on the dimness of her life and particular loneliness, broken up by only modest curiosities. There is an aching subtlety to Kusruti’s performance, the implication of a gnawing disappointment with her fortunes hidden behind the air of stern professionalism and a helping of repression. Prabha’s not that much older than Anu, but they are so far apart -Kusruti conveys such a deep world-weariness that connects with the soul of anyone experiencing a similar listless ennui with the track of their lives amid the torrents of the modern world. There is something formidable in her spirit, a motivating kindness that seems to define her relationship with Parvaty; and a yearning if suppressed romantic spirit she convinces herself is for her absentee husband, but is deeper than that. A friendly Malayali doctor Manoj (Azees Nedumangad), only in Mumbai temporarily and unable to adjust to the language barrier has an endearing crush on her; and she is moved too by him, but restricts herself by the bounds to her husband. It is a very small but cute relationship, Kusruti playing with solemn heartache the dawning realization of the barriers she has constructed to a more fulfilling life.
The movie is gloriously organic. There's not much direct action, as Kapadia would rather hone in on a simple moment of a bored Anu setting a stethoscope on a globe, or Prabha taking in with disappointed eyes a rice cooker sent from Germany -no sentiment attached, a gift out of sheer obligation. The relationships are tangible: Anu and Shiaz are a little awkward and sweet, exchanging a funny story or two, but mostly communicating physically in the tension preceding an inevitable first sexual encounter. Romantic tension exists as well between Prabha and Manoj, but entirely subtextual, not so comfortable. Both such sincere depictions, truthful illustrations of the subtleties of modern relationships, and all they relate without obvious communication.
In the last act, all three women travel to the beach village of Ratnagiri, where Parvaty is to settle in the loss of her fight for her home. Away from Mumbai, it is a tranquil space and one of ultimate catharsis for each of them. The atmosphere is warmer, there is a stillness without distraction. Kapadia and her actresses translate with finesse the effect of this environment on their minds -there is a freedom of objectivity. And their moments of affirmation and triumphant self-actualization in defiance of the institutional forces they have been suppressed and taught to repress by come with as much force as any more crowd-pleasing beat of narrative climax. Anu, who in light of her taboo relationship and new pressures from her family into an arranged marriage that she fears will turn out like Prabha's situation, freely consummates her romance with Shiaz (who snuck along the journey) - Prabha observing, with new clarity towards both their affections and the false picture of her own marriage, a light that she imagines.
How she ultimately contends with this is largely symbolic, but demonstrably powerful, as Kapadia hearkens back to some of the best works of magical realist cinema to construct a confrontation of self that truly liberates Prabha in the way that matters. And there is something really subversive to it as well, especially in light of her circumstance being implicitly not so rare for Indian working women. The movie on the whole bears this attitude, but it comes out in the context of these womens' tender feats of agency rather than any direct appeal. It feels almost sly in this approach, like Parvaty finding herself emotionally renewed in this new place is some act of rebellion against the hard, menial life she had in Mumbai. And it's this perhaps more than anything that puts me in mind of Ozu, who often peppered in social commentary through simply the lived experiences and emotional journeys of his characters. Kapadia's exercise of the same, but through her own lens and world is just as satisfying, poignant, and humane.
The movie is perhaps deceptively simple as it relates the lives of three Indian women, against a modern tableaux of culture and understated expectation. But Kapadia's deep observational touch is uncommonly tantalizing, her actresses are alive with a naturalism so endearing. All We Imagine as Light leaves you in the literal glow of their communion and support, even a hint of contentment. Isn't there something thrilling, Kapadia seems to ask, in feeling a fraction of that for ourselves?

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