Why All We Imagine as Light Matters More Than You Think

Why All We Imagine as Light Matters More Than You Think

Payal Kapadia just did something that hasn't happened in thirty years. When All We Imagine as Light won the Grand Prix at Cannes in 2024, it wasn't just a win for a single director; it was a massive "we’re here" moment for Indian independent cinema. People usually associate Indian film with the high-octane energy of RRR or the classic Bollywood musical structure. This movie is the opposite. It’s quiet. It’s blue. It’s soaked in the humidity of Mumbai.

Honestly, the buzz around it is kind of wild because the film is so meditative. It follows two nurses, Prabha and Anu, living in a cramped apartment. Their lives are defined by the rhythm of the hospital and the city's relentless rain. Kapadia captures a specific kind of urban loneliness that feels universal but looks specifically like India.

💡 You might also like: Why Everyone Gets the Somewhere Over the Rainbow Lyrics Hawaiian Version Wrong

The Reality Behind All We Imagine as Light

The film deals with migration, but not in the way you’d expect from a gritty documentary. It’s about internal migration. These women have moved from rural areas to the giant, crushing engine of Mumbai. Prabha, the older nurse, gets a surprise gift—a rice cooker—from her estranged husband who is working in Germany. It’s a weird, inanimate symbol of a ghost relationship.

Anu, her younger roommate, is secretly seeing a Muslim man. In the current socio-political climate of India, that’s a heavy plot point, but Kapadia handles it with a soft touch rather than a sledgehammer. The film doesn't scream its politics. It whispers them through the fog of a kitchen or the blue light of a hospital ward.

Cinematographer Ranabir Das deserves a lot of credit here. The movie looks like a dream you’re having while you’re slightly dehydrated. It’s gorgeous.

Why the Cannes Win Changed Everything

Before All We Imagine as Light, the last Indian film to compete for the Palme d’Or was Shaji N. Karun’s Swaham in 1994. That’s a long gap. Decades.

Kapadia’s background is in documentaries—specifically A Night of Knowing Nothing—and you can see that influence in the way she observes her characters. She doesn't force them to act; she lets them exist. When the film premiered at Cannes, the standing ovation lasted for eight minutes. That’s standard for Cannes, sure, but the emotional weight for the Indian contingent was different. They were dancing on the red carpet. It felt like a breakthrough for a generation of filmmakers who aren't making "masala" movies.

The industry is watching this closely. If a film this poetic can find a global audience, it opens doors for dozens of other South Asian creators who don't want to fit into the song-and-dance mold.

The Sound of Mumbai Rain

The soundscape of the film is essentially its own character. You have the constant hum of the city, the rain, and the specific silence of two people living together who don't always know how to talk to each other.

It’s sort of about the "second life" women lead. In the hospital, they are professionals. They are in charge. They save lives. Then they go home and they're just women trying to navigate the messy realities of desire and expectation.

Kapadia uses the city of Mumbai as a sort of liminal space. It’s a place where you can be anyone, but you’re also often nobody. The transition from the city to a seaside village in the second half of the film changes the entire energy. It shifts from blue to green. It moves from the cramped quarters of the city to the openness of the coast, giving the characters—and the audience—room to breathe.

Breaking Down the Cast

Kani Kusruti plays Prabha with this incredible, restrained sadness. You’ve probably seen her in various indie projects, but this is the role that will likely define her career internationally. Divya Prabha, as Anu, provides the perfect foil—she’s more impulsive, more driven by her heart than by the rules of society.

Their chemistry is the heart of the film. It’s not a movie about big explosions or dramatic betrayals. It’s about the small, almost invisible ways women support each other when the world isn't looking.

A New Wave for Indian Cinema?

There’s a lot of talk about whether All We Imagine as Light signals a "New Wave." We’ve seen these flashes before. But this feels different because of the international distribution deals and the sheer level of critical consensus. It’s a co-production between India, France, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. That’s the modern reality of "Indian" cinema—it’s often a global effort.

Critics have compared Kapadia’s style to Wong Kar-wai or even Lucrecia Martel. There’s a certain "slowness" that might frustrate people used to Marvel pacing. But if you let it wash over you, the payoff is huge.

Actionable Insights for Film Enthusiasts

If you’re looking to dive deeper into this style of filmmaking or understand the context of the film better, here is how to engage with it:

  • Watch Kapadia’s Documentaries First: Seek out A Night of Knowing Nothing. It gives you a roadmap for her visual language and her interest in student protests and the politics of memory in India.
  • Follow the Producers: Look into the work of Petit Chaos (France) and Chalk & Cheese (India). These are the folks funding the most interesting "border-crossing" films right now.
  • Track the Distribution: Depending on where you are, the film is being handled by different distributors (Janus Films/Sideshow in the US). Keep an eye on boutique theaters rather than the local multiplex.
  • Explore Malayalam Cinema: Both lead actresses are prominent in Malayalam films. This regional industry in India (from the state of Kerala) is currently producing the most intellectually stimulating content in the country. Start with films like The Great Indian Kitchen or Jallikattu to see the range.

The real takeaway from the success of All We Imagine as Light is that specific, local stories are the ones that resonate most globally. By focusing on two nurses in a specific hospital in a specific city, Kapadia made something that feels like it belongs to everyone. It’s a reminder that cinema doesn't need to be loud to be heard.

To truly appreciate the shift this film represents, keep an eye on the 2025 and 2026 festival circuits. The "Kapadia effect" is likely to bring a surge of Indian independent features to the forefront, moving beyond the traditional festival silos and into mainstream arthouse consciousness. Pay attention to directors coming out of the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII), as that’s the creative cradle where this specific, poetic style is being nurtured.