All We Imagine as Light: Moods of Modern Mumbai

Poetic neorealism

India has failed yet again. All We Imagine as Light, directed by debut Mumbai-based filmmaker Payal Kapadia, became the first Indian film to premiere at the Cannes Film Festival in 2024 in over 25 years. A rare example of Indian indie cinema, Kapadia’s latest work draws heavily from European arthouse traditions to examine the pulse of Mumbai through the lives of three working-class nurses. In defense of their decision, The Film Federation of India claimed the film’s sensibilities were too European to qualify as an Indian submission, conveniently omitting that the film’s politics no doubt would offend the majority BJP party in India. Kapadia’s film, All We Imagine as Light, had to rely on funding from European countries like France and the Netherlands after struggling to secure full financing in India. While much of the discussion around the film has focused on its failure to secure an Oscar nomination due to a lack of national support, the film’s content has gone to the wayside. Scouring arthouses across the country, will All We Imagine as Light launch Payal Kapadia as a major new filmmaking voice? Or will it go down a long list of buried Indian indies that never see the light?

The film follows two Malayali nurses, Prabha (Kani Kusruti) and Anu (Divya Prabha), who share an apartment in Mumbai. Prabha, the studious and responsible one, has adapted better to life in the city due to her fluency in Hindi. However, she is trapped in a loveless existence, longing for her husband, who left her to work in a factory in Germany. Whereas, Anu, her younger and more outgoing roommate, is secretly in a relationship with Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon), a Muslim man, while her parents attempt to arrange her marriage. Anu struggles to balance her passion for Shiaz with the bleak, preordained future expected of her as a woman in India. Dr. Manoj (Azees Nedumangad), a kind man who writes poetry in his free time, tries to court Prabha, but she is unable to let go of her estranged husband—especially after a mysterious package from Germany containing a rice cooker arrives at their apartment. Meanwhile, Prabha tries to help out the hospital’s cook Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam) who faces eviction by a capitalist building owner aiming to replace her home with a high-rise. With no proper paperwork to defend herself, Parvaty is forced to leave and return to her village in Ratnagiri. Prabha and Anu assist her with the move where they find the time to deal with their closeted passions and love affairs, attempting to forge a new way forward. As I write this, I find it difficult to encapsulate the film, as it is largely plotless, focusing instead on creating a vivid atmosphere that captures the daily lives of these women as they navigate the challenges and inequities of life in Mumbai.

As someone who regularly follows Indian cinema, having grown up on Tollywood and Bollywood films, it’s utterly rare for an Indian film like All We Imagine as Light to come into my peripheral. Like many indie films worldwide, I may not be searching hard enough for hidden gems, but nationally, India does little to promote those that truly represent the country's essence. Neither does the international sector given that this film is the first Indian film to premiere in the Cannes main competition since the 90s. The lack of support for independent-made films in India from a Governmental level is unfortunate compared to smaller European countries that take greater pride in art. Yet, cinema undoubtedly carries cultural significance in the form of the masala picture. Since there’s barely an audience for mid-budget adult-oriented films in India, the industry is relegated to the biggest most bombastic spectacles. Even the romantic dramas are adorned with the highest-end jewelry, costumes, and sets, entrenching themselves in utter escapism. Most big films elevate their male stars as Gods amongst men, encouraging the movie-going audience to look up in awe rather than around the lives of everyday people. Indian films barely look like they’re shot in India or any country for that matter. Draped in turgid melodrama, they mostly have an intense artificial gloss as if the filmmakers and actors are ashamed to be making a film in their home country. Or are in fear of offending the nationalists if they accidentally depict India poorly. Not to mention that most films reflect a worldview where social progress remains stuck in the stone age. Indian commercial cinema has become a straight-jacket where experimentation and authenticity go to die. As these films stagnate, the country ironically drifts further from what once defined Indian cinema on the global stage: the parallel movement. The films of Satyajit Ray and Ritwik Ghatak found ways to create beautiful, thought-provoking cinema that probed into the deeper consciousness of India in ways only film could. Payal Kapadia puts her hat in the ring by making a film with the same timeless quality as those masters. Drawing inspiration from those cinematic greats and the European arthouse tradition, she revitalizes the country’s cinematic roots in poetic realism, this time set against the backdrop of modern India.

Kapadia frames the story from the perspective of three average nurses scrapping by and dealing with their insignificance in an evergrowing population. Perfectly capturing modern city life in India, the film also takes aim at the social and class barriers Indians imprison themselves in. Yet, there’s a clear brimming desire to escape and live authentically as people should. The film beautifully captures the quiet, subdued existence that defines life for so many Indians—especially those barely scraping by. These are the people who, despite lacking support from the government, their families, or society at large, leave themselves with little choice but to suppress their true passions and desires. As I mentioned earlier, the film emphasizes mood above simple pedagogy. Kapadia’s intimate camera vividly brings Mumbai to life—you can almost smell the streets, feel the humidity, and hear the city’s constant hum in every frame. She manages to visually depict the ever-present contradictions that identify modern India. As I type this, there’s no way to ignore the film’s unmistakable political and sexual tones that no doubt made this one less than a fan favorite with the Film Federation of India. It’s unabashedly liberal in its politics, earnestly sympathizing with the plight of the poor and downtrodden in a rapidly urbanizing, growing India that has neglected its working class. Through the inner turmoil of these three women, Kapadia delves into the deep-seated divisions and sexual politics of India, shedding light on the struggles of women and Muslims in a country still grappling with these issues. It offers a wholly feminist perspective grounded in the working class, focusing on the liberation of women rather than the issues of first-world, bourgeois feminism. Unlike those films, All We Imagine as Light never talks down to nor preaches to the audience with endless commentary. Instead, the film’s first hour is downright hypnotizing where we truly get to sympathize with these people’s plight from a humane level. The filmmakers never pretend these women represent womankind in its entirety as many lesser films like to do. While laying out the many things that hold people back in India, it never offers lazy one-stop answers, rather involving us on a human level with the conundrum itself.

The film’s power begins with the stellar performances of the cast all around. It’s hard to believe the cast is comprised of experienced character actors. They all have a neo-realist quality, in the same vein as the actors in a De Sica or Rossellini film where each actor looks hand-picked off the street yet they belong on the screen. A rare quality in India, where most actors come from generations of family tradition in the industry. I must commend cinematographer Ranabir Das once more, whose stunning work transports the audience into the film's gritty, realistic, yet dream-like atmosphere, truly captivating the audience to the streets of Mumbai and the scenic village of Ratnagiri. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what Payal Kapadia does to make her film so special which is the hallmark of a truly great, essential filmmaker. What I can remark upon are great moments that sum up the film’s brilliance. There won’t be any moments of high tension, melodrama, or action that typically keep filmgoers’ attention rather she shrewdly depicts life itself in small moments that are no less powerful. Scenes like Dr. Manoj sharing his struggles with Hindi with Prabha, Anu dressing in a burqa to appear respectable in her boyfriend’s neighborhood, Parvaty finally trying the Indo-Chinese restaurant she passes daily before leaving Mumbai, or the three women shedding their inhibitions to share a bottle of alcohol and dance together, stand out. One scene that captures the essence of Kapadia’s film is in the third act when Anu and her boyfriend Shiaz are truly alone for what seems like the first time. it beautifully captures their shared longing to fully connect, while recognizing the fleeting nature of the moments when they are truly in love. It’s a hypnotic piece of cinema that captures these characters stuck in time that’s both sensual and deeply romantic.

It’s so rare to see modern Indian filmmakers grasp the meat and bones of daily existence with such depth, humanity, and even humor. It’s always shocked me how little most filmmakers care about the state of the country and the people around them. I obviously speak in generality, as many small films don’t see the light of day that follows in this tradition. But most filmmakers care about the bottom line, pacifying the audiences into a curated reality far from their own. While escapism has its merit, it shouldn’t be the only option available, especially when the powers work hard to limit filmmakers and artists from fully expressing themselves. Still, Kapadia’s film isn’t inaccessible despite what people may think. Nor is it too “European” for Indian audiences; instead, it thoughtfully engages with the complexities of Indian society and its cultural nuances. The film draws the audience into a trance, immersing them in the characters’ lives with genuine sincerity and without pretense. That’s what makes Kapadia’s film so resonant and despite what the Film Federation thinks I hope the film will find its audience. Prioritizing atmosphere and being in the moment, Payal Kapadia’s debut feature film is a stunning achievement. Avoiding the trappings of excessive politics or overly meta-commentary, the film appeals to our humanity in what will go down as a timeless piece of film. Hopefully, the future of Indian cinema will be shaped by daring masterworks like this, along with films that strike a balance between outright commercial entertainment and intimate indie storytelling—creating captivating, relevant works that resonate. All We Imagine as Light is many things, but no matter what you come away with, you will go home happy [4/4].