Tag Archives: Chhaya Kadam

Movie Review: Sister Midnight (2024)

4 Stars (out of 4)

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Debutant feature director Karan Kandhari brings delightfully weird sensibilities to the dark comedy Sister Midnight. He finds the perfect collaborator in Radhika Apte, who gives a wonderfully unhinged performance as an unhappy newlywed bride.

The movie opens with Uma (Apte) and her husband Gopal (Ashok Pathak) traveling by train from their arranged wedding to his tiny Mumbai apartment. Once there, he bolts out of the room when she tries to change clothes in front of him. She wakes up alone the next morning with no money or food, and he comes home drunk that night. Neither of them says a word until eight-and-a-half minutes into the film, when he tries to explain himself and she scolds him for neglecting her.

This is Uma’s life now, and she’s not suited to it at all. She doesn’t know how to cook, so she has nothing to do all day. She doesn’t know anyone in the city, so she wanders the neighborhood after dark in her nightgown.

One day, she takes a train to the end of the line intending to mope while looking at the sea. Embarrassed to be counted among the other mopey folks at the beach, she instead gets herself a job as a night janitor in an office building. It’s not glamorous and it’s a four-hour walk from home, but it’s something to do.

Things get a little better for Uma when she befriends her surly neighbor Sheetal (Chhaya Kadam), the night watchman at the office building, and a friendly group of hijra who hang out outside the building. But just as Uma makes connections, her health takes a turn. She’s pale and can’t keep food down. One fateful night, she figures out what’s ailing her.

The key to Sister Midnight’s success is in its delivery. Kandhari tells his story with an odd, snappy cadence, not just in how characters perform their lines but in how shots are connected. Something happens, the camera quickly pans to Apte making a face, then it quickly pans back to the thing that happened. The pace keeps the audience off balance and provides ample opportunities for funny surprises.

Apte’s sterling credentials have been established for years, but this is the best she’s ever been. She is an expert at physical comedy, whether it’s something dynamic like leaping into a bush to catch a bird or just making a strange face or adopting an awkward posture. Because Uma has no backstory, Apte has great latitude in defining the character via her performance, and she creates a hilarious antihero.

Some parts of Sister Midnight aren’t executed to technical perfection, but that actually works in the film’s favor. Computer generated animals move in wonky ways that almost evoke claymation, which makes them more charming somehow.

Even when the story slows down, Kandhari finds ways to surprise. Uma sits at a roadside diner, morose and out of ideas, when a black & white samurai movie comes on the TV and snaps her out of her despair. The film is not a classic samurai movie, but one that Kandhari filmed (in Scotland, of all places) specifically for this scene.

Propelling everything forward is a killer soundtrack, with songs from artists as diverse as Howlin’ Wolf, Iggy Pop, Buddy Holly, and Motörhead. Best of all are three songs by Cambodian singer Sinn Sisamouth, who was active from the 1950s-70s. If you’re unfamiliar with him, I’ll embed one of his songs below.

The wide-ranging soundtrack fits with a movie from a filmmaker who wants to delight and surprise his audience. Sister Midnight is an astounding feature debut.

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Movie Review: All We Imagine as Light (2024)

3.5 Stars (out of 4)

Mumbai — a crowded city where it’s easy to be lonely. A place to live that never quite feels like home. That’s the experience of three women in the engaging international feature All We Imagine as Light.

Prabha (Kani Kusruti) is head nurse at a hospital in Mumbai. She grew up elsewhere speaking Malayalam but has learned Hindi to thrive in the city.* She’s married, but her husband works in a factory in Germany. He hasn’t called in over a year.

Since she’s effectively single and rent is expensive, Prabha lives with Anu (Divya Prabhu), a junior nurse who’s also a transplant to the city. Anu has something of a reputation, since other hospital workers have seen her meeting up with a young man: her Muslim boyfriend Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon).

Prabha’s own beau — kindly Dr. Manoj (Azees Nedumangad) — knows she is married, but he waits for her after work to give her treats or share his poetry. The relationship is chaste, but it fills a void in Prabha’s life.

The arrival of a mysterious package shakes up Prabha’s routine and forces her to look at her life as it truly is. There’s no note in the package or a return address, only a fancy rice cooker — made in Germany.

Director Payal Kapadia lets these scenes in the city unfold at an unhurried pace, giving the audience time to understand the rhythms of the characters’ lives. It’s an enjoyable way to be carried along in a drama where the problems are important, but not necessarily urgent. It took a long time for Prabha’s life to become the way it is, after all.

She and Anu get an outside perspective when Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam, Laapataa Ladies) —  a widow who works at the hospital — asks for their help moving back to her village. Parvaty has lived in the same Mumbai apartment for two decades, but lacking the proper paperwork, re-developers are evicting her. It’s like she was never there at all.

Only in stepping outside the bounds of the city can any of the women see the way it constrains the very opportunities it promises to make possible: opportunities for love, belonging and happiness.

Outside of the city, the story loses a bit of momentum. Some of that is intentional, as it represents a new physical and mental space for the characters to inhabit, but it didn’t quite work for me. Kapadia has such a clear vision of life in the city that I was sad to let that go.

Kusruti, Prabhu, and Kadam are great individually, but especially together. Their performances are easy and natural, and that extends to their rapport. They are the heart of a movie that is very enjoyable to watch.

*One thing I’d love to see the film do before its US theatrical release is to code the English subtitles in different colors depending on which language is being spoken. The characters speak a mix of Hindi, Malayalam, and Marathi, and it would enhance the understanding of their relationships if it was easier for non-Indian-language speakers to tell who was speaking in what language with whom.

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Movie Review: Laapataa Ladies (2023)

3 Stars (out of 4)

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Kiran Rao returns with her second feature, more than a decade after her directorial debut. Laapataa Ladies (“Lost Ladies“) is a sweet film about the unpredictable consequences of an innocent mistake.

In 2001, farmer Deepak (Sparsh Shrivastav) is returning to his village after his wedding to Phool (Nitanshi Goel). Many other newlyweds are aboard the crowded train, the grooms in their nicest brown suits and the brides wearing red saris with their faces covered by a veil. Deepak steps away for a minute, and seats get shuffled around to accommodate new arrivals. When they arrive at their stop in the middle of the night, Deepak grabs the hand of the bride who is sitting where Phool last was and escorts her off the train.

Only when he gets all the way to his house and his bride reveals her face does Deepak discover that he brought home the wrong woman.

The bride standing in his family’s yard says her name is Pushpa (Pratibha Ranta). She’s not sure where she was heading. The family agrees to let her stay until they can sort things out.

Then there’s poor Phool. She woke up at the last stop on the line with no money and without knowing the name of the town where Deepak lives. A kindly guy called Chhotu (Satendra Soni) introduces her to Manju Maai (Chhaya Kadam), who runs a snack stall at the station. The older woman puts Phool to work, teaching the young woman a lesson in self-sufficiency — just in case Deepak isn’t the good guy Phool thinks he is.

The thing is, Deepak really is a good guy. In fact, most of the people in Laapataa Ladies are good. Rao and writers Biplap Goswami, Sneha Desai, and Divyanidhi Sharma are perfectly aware that the world is a dangerous place for women, so there’s no need to belabor the point. Instead, the story focuses on problem solving and community building as ways to persevere through challenges.

Manju Maai’s support for Phool does the best job at conveying that message. The older woman gently teaches the younger some hard-earned lessons that Phool’s own mother kept from her. Since Phool’s husband would eventually take care of her, why teach the girl more than basic skills like cooking, cleaning, and dancing? Manju Maai explains that sometimes life forces you to make your own way.

Similar lessons are taught back at Deepak’s house, as “Pushpa” — whose real name is Jaya — encourages the women of the house to do things that make them happy and not just prioritize the happiness of the men in the family. These lessons aren’t as organically integrated into the story and feel more like lectures. Still, the sentiment is nice and the film’s ending is made more touching as a result.

The whole cast is really strong. Casting the now-16-year-old Goel as Phool was a masterstroke, as her youth makes the abandoned bride extra vulnerable and innocent. Shrivastav and Ranta also suit their roles to a tee, and the supporting cast is great, too.

The story occasionally loses steam when it tries to incorporate too many facets of small-town life. There’s too much of the greedy police chief (played by Ravi Kishan), and a sequence involving a local politician doesn’t move the story forward at all. Still, it’s hard to knock a movie with such good intentions and so many enjoyable performances.

[Note: Laapataa Ladies debuted at the Toronto International Film Festival on September 8, 2023. It released theatrically March 1, 2024.]

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