Dichotomous Realities in 'All We Imagine as Light'

The opening minutes of All We Imagine as Light reveal much about the film’s essence: the bustling streets of Mumbai. Its noises. Its colors. The people within this urban jungle. If we inhale deeply enough, we can almost experience the city's smells. This vibrant city – of dreams, or illusions? – provides the backdrop for Payal Kapadia’s exploration of the unique identities that sustain the city’s ecosystem. These identities can be extended to the story of a nation, caught between its rich history and promising future. It is a present wherein, at times, there is little room to pause, breathe, and live in the moment.

The polarities at the heart of this inspired script are omnipresent and easily recognizable in its main characters, two nurses at a city hospital. Prabha (Kani Kusruti) immerses herself in her exemplary daily work, her overtime dedication serving as a refuge from internal wounds she prefers to avoid. Her husband lives in Europe, and communication between them has been nonexistent for months. Meanwhile, Dr. Manoj (Azees Nedumangad) sees something special in Prabha. He desires something more with her, but Prabha remains tethered to a past that may never have a future. Her rational, more conservative side leaves her uncomfortable with the closeness that her more emotional side might have even entertained in another time, another place.

Her younger roommate and colleague, Anu (Divya Prabha), represents a different phase of life and a different generation. Anu is experiencing the fervor of a youthful romance where excitement overshadows rationality. Living out this love requires secrecy, yet it is felt with such passion that it is impossible to conceal. In a society where conservatism persists in certain realms and familial pressures often outweigh individual desires, her situation has higher stakes. Anu’s situation is further complicated because her boyfriend is Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon), a young Muslim man, whom she knows her Hindu parents will never accept as a potential husband. Despite this, Anu refuses to let go of her feelings, and her clash with Prabha’s more conservative views seems to build toward inevitable conflict in a slow and contemplative way.

In addition to the main duo, there is nurse Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam), who embodies the struggles of class. She represents the constant battle between rural and urban life, between the middle class and those who exploit it, discarding the group as soon as financial interests take precedence. On the verge of losing her home to yet another luxury housing project, Parvaty decides it is time to return to her hometown and invites her colleagues to help her with the move. This marks a turning point in the film, which shifts its rhythm, adding a mystical, magical layer to the melancholic realism that has driven the narrative thus far. It is with this whimsy that Kapadia takes the most risks, finding an extra dose of inspiration to imbue the story with deeper meaning and heart. Sometimes, we need to be shown that what we think is not the sole reality and that closing certain doors is necessary to move forward and open others.

The characters at the center of this film are its soul. Every exchange feels so sincere, so honest, so real. Although I have never experienced circumstances like these characters, I felt everything they were feeling. I felt it in Parvaty’s cries of revolt, in Anu’s passion and rebellion, and in Prabha’s fears and doubts. With regard to performances, Kani Kusruti's name deserves to be on everyone's lips. She never relies on grand physical gestures or overacting. Her eyes speak volumes. Her emotions are etched into her skin, and they pierce like arrows straight to the soul. It is acting in its purest form. 

It might be hard to believe, but this is Kapadia’s first feature-length fiction film, both as director and writer. Kapadia sought to detail different lives and different Indias by showcasing pluralism, which is apparent in its use of four different languages throughout the film. This not only highlights the country’s cultural diversity and provides a truly unique sensory experience, but also gives a voice to those who are usually not heard. I can’t recall many established filmmakers who have asserted such a distinct and personal style with their debut work. The wistful – and, frankly,  perfect – score and its vivid colors evoke Wong Kar-Wai. The way nature is permitted to speak through the film may remind us of the great Satyajit Ray. The use of magical realism recalls the writing of some contemporary authors, including the Angolan writer José Eduardo Agualusa.

Yet everything also feels new. Uniquely hers. Irreplicable. The film offers a sense of familiarity and comfort while simultaneously challenging us to leave that comfort zone through the personal, moral, and societal dilemmas it presents. It does not seek to indoctrinate or provide answers to unanswerable questions. It never tells us what is right or wrong. Such is life – a collection of feelings, sensations, decisions, and conclusions that we can never fully define. We simply need to live it and master our own reality.

When the action shifts to Parvaty’s village halfway through the film, the scenery changes almost hyperbolically. The sea and open spaces of the village contrast with the cement and enclosed, chaotic spaces of the concrete jungle we saw earlier. We all need to breathe, and to breathe, we must escape from the suffocation of crowds. We need air, the vastness of the sea, and the chance to experience all that nature the world has to offer. In moments of darkness, we all need some light, real or imagined. During the two hours I spent with these women, I smiled, shuddered, blushed and cried. Above all, I felt. Amidst the darkness in the current world, All We Imagine as Light serves as a powerful reminder of where to find the light.

All We Imagine as Light is currently experiencing a limited U.S. release, with a nationwide expansion soon to come.

-Pedro