Producers: Julien Graff and Thomas Hakim    Director: Payal Kapadia Screenplay: Payal Kapadia   Cast: Kani Kusruti, Divya Prabha, Chhaya Kadam, Hridhu Haroon, Aziz Nedumangad, Tintumol Joseph and Anand Sami    Distributor: Sideshow/Janus Films

Grade: B+

Payal Kapadia’s sophomore feature has a simple purity that’s an implicit rebuke to the overblown excesses of Bollywood, as well as the stereotypes about Indian society that even less ostentatious films usually traffic in.  “All We Imagine as Light” is extraordinary for its mixture of harsh realism and ethereal beauty in depicting both the experience of women in India’s modern cities and the religious sectarianism that pervades the society.

Kapadia’s script centers on Prabha (Kani Kusruti) and Anu (Divya Prabha), two nurses at a shabby hospital who share a cramped flat, along with a stray cat Anu rescues from the street, in Mumbai, a megacity whose crowded bustle is presented as a welter of light and shade, of bodies moving in disorganized clumps while the thoughts of some are heard in voiceover expressing their individual hopes and fears.  Prabha and Anu, who have come from Kerala in the south for work and are more comfortable speaking Malayalam than Hindi, deal as best they can with the stream of the afflicted women who congregate in the obstetrics ward seeking treatment, but know the limitations of what they can accomplish, even if they sometimes bend the rules a bit to help.

Though they inhabit a common workplace and home, the two are very different personalities, but both have serious relationship issues.  The more solemn, reserved Prabha is married, but her husband departed for Germany shortly after their arranged ceremony, and has been absent ever since.  When newcomer Dr. Manoj   (Azees Nedumangad) shows a gentle interest in her, even asking her to read a poem he’s written (clearly with her in mind), she feels compelled to deflect his attention.  And when a rice cooker arrives in the mail from Germany, without even a note attached, her emotions are rekindled; in an emotionally wrenching moment, she literally embraces the device, a poignant expression of her longing for an intimacy that seems permanently out of reach.

The younger Anu, by contrast, is free-spirited, and she’s secretly seeing a young man named Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon).  Shanet (Tintumol Joseph), another nurse at the hospital, warns Prabha that rumors are already circulating about her “loose” roommate.   What neither knows is that Shiaz is Muslim, and the the couple have nowhere to spend time together except in the crowded streets.  Kapadia adds a note of humor to their predicament when Anu dresses in a burqa to visit Shiaz at home, only for his parents to return unexpectedly and ruin their plans.  Meanwhile Anu’s parents, oblivious of Shiaz’s existence, keep sending her news of eligible Hindu marriage prospects.

There’s another major character, Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam), an older widow working as a cook in the hospital.  Her troubles are legal: a powerful real estate firm is intent on tearing down the building where her apartment is located for a luxury development, and she’s lacking the documentation that could prove her right to the place.  Prabha tries to help her develop her case, but the system is obviously rigged in favor of the rich and powerful, and ultimately Parvaty decides to leave Mumbai and return to her hometown, a seaside village south of the city where she can resume a less stressful existence.  Prabha and Anu offer to help with her move, and wind up in a quiet, secluded place unlike the one they’ve become accustomed to.

There both women find fulfillment, but in very different ways.  Shiaz has followed them, and he and Anu embrace the opportunity to express their love physically in a nearby cave.  On the beach Prabha is called on to resuscitate a man (Anand Sami) who’s been brought in, drowned, from the sea.  The effort becomes a metaphysical experience as the man morphs into her husband and begs forgiveness for abandoning her.  In its aftermath Prabha, having overcome her sense of loss, invites Parvaty, Anu—and Shiaz as well—to sit with her on the beach, chatting as they’re all illuminated by the light of the setting—or is it a rising?–sun.             

Though Kapadia touches upon troubling realities in contemporary Indian society, particularly in terms of the treatment of women, she does so with grace rather than anger, with a light hand rather than a cudgel.  The contributions of production designers Yashasvi Sabharwal, Piyusha Chalke and Shamim Khan and of costumer Maxima Basu don’t romanticize the gritty background, but cinematographer Ranabir Das adds an occasional luminous touch, especially at the close, and composer Dhritiman Das heightens the sense of potential magic in grim surroundings with a score that mixes melancholy with upbeat notes.

Under Kapadia’s sure hand, the cast offer performances that are sensitive without showiness.  Kusruti unerringly captures the quiet pain Prabha endures under her surface serenity, while Prabha and Haroon embody the spirit of young love with infectious abandon.  Kadam encapsulates the gruff resignation of a woman who must try to make it on her own, while Nedumangad’s sad demeanor demonstrates that men are not free of the feeling of isolation either.  The unhurried pacing of Kapadia and editor Clément Pinteaux gives all of them the opportunity to deepen their characters, resulting in an overall tone that comes across as very specific yet somehow timeless.

“All We Imagine as Light”—a title that suggests the yearning of its characters for a sense of connection in an apparently unfeeling world—is a remarkable piece of cinematic poetry, touching on substantive issues in Indian society but doing so with subtlety rather than hectoring didacticism.