The ‘Spirit Of Mumbai’ is an illusion. It’s a lie that’s been told and retold so many times that it’s become difficult to separate the truth from the rose-tinted fiction that’s perpetuated time and time again. The inconvenient truth is that this ‘spirit’, exists precisely because the powers that be refuse to do their jobs. It’s also perpetuated so that they never actually have to do their jobs. 

Payal Kapadia’s ‘All We Imagine Is Light’ offers a cinematic remedy to the kool-aid we’ve all been forced to drink over the years and presents us with an authentic and often claustrophobically personal depiction of the lives of ordinary people in India’s financial capital. 

The film’s slow-burning narrative unfolds primarily through the lives of two nurses: Nurse Prabha and Nurse Anu. It twists and winds its way through the harsh realities of love, loss, and longing in a living city that is cold, uncaring and apathetic to the aspirations of all who inhabit it. 

Payal herself is no stranger to the oppressive darkness that exists in big cities like Mumbai, nor is she foreign to the apathy and the banality of the bureaucracy and hate that plague every facet of Indian civil society as a whole, from corporations to educational institutions. As we sit down for our conversation, I jump right into the thick of it and ask her why she thinks we’re so prone to looking past the flaws and romanticising this darkness, despite what’s often plain to see.

“I think cities, especially ones like Mumbai, have an inherent quality of contradiction,” she muses. “They’re liberating and a lot of people come from all over the country to make a life in Mumbai. Coming here gives you options and the possibility of a far more independent life, especially for women. Whenever a place has such a great degree of diversity it always makes for interesting stories. This film combines my love for Mumbai and my criticism of some of its flaws.”

Beyond its technical excellence and the captivating nature of its story, what’s allowed the film to capture the hearts of not just Indian viewers but audiences across the world is the fact that it presents narratives, identities, and even visuals that are often ignored entirely. Even when mainstream films do attempt to depict narratives of those on the periphery of society, it often feels gentrified; a sanitized and polished version of reality.

Payal’s vision is refreshingly gritty and pulls no punches in showing us the reality of living in the close-quarters urban sprawl that is Mumbai in 2024. Everything from the dilapidated state of the hospital and its infrastructure to the spartan nature of their living quarters depicts a reality where people eck out a life piecemeal; using every resource that happens to be available to them. Whether it’s a woman yearning for connection after years of loneliness, a young couple finding a place to just ‘be’ on the side of a street, or two coworkers stealing a forbidden moment on a crowded skywalk, each character looks through the darkness and finds a sliver of light to hold onto. It is that very light that keeps them going.

“I think that depicting privilege as opposed to reality is actually a fairly new trend,” explains Payal. “If you look at the history of Indian cinema, you’ll see that other than in the early 2000s, there was historically a lot of representation of other classes and sections of society in our films. A lot of these were films about people who lived on the margins of society and they were very much mainstream. What we’re seeing today is actually a trend that happened after India liberalised and there was a commercialisation of everyday life. The aspirations of the middle class changed and thus the direction of our movies also shifted. But it’s definitely a shift that’s very recent.”

What heightens this realism is precisely the way it’s been shot. The cramped, close-quarters scenes in the city highlight the claustrophobic nature of living in an urban sprawl ill-equipped to deal with its own unchecked growth and ‘development’. “One of the things that I was clear about was that I wanted to shoot in real locations,” she says. “This means that everywhere you shoot will inevitably be cramped. And then you want space for your big camera and millions of lights. This is a very stupid thing. It’s a contradiction. So we had to find a way to, in a sense, ‘have our cake and eat it too’.” Payal asserts that both timing and know-how were essential parts of the principal photography and that producer and location scout extraordinaire, Kishor Sawant, was essential to them finding places that would allow them to capture the reality of Mumbai without having to compromise their shots and storyboards.

The very hospital where a key part of the first half of the film takes place was an actual Mumbai hospital that was scheduled for demolition. While the hospital itself was no longer in use, all of the equipment and infrastructure was still in place, which made it the ideal location for the production. “It was a wild hospital,” exclaims Payal. “Different donors had financed each room so every room was a different colour and aesthetic entirely, which I thought was also very on-brand for Mumbai. Some rooms have flowers, some have pink tiles and some have Mickey Mouse. It was this 1980s-esque hospital that allowed us to depict exactly what we envisioned but also reinforce an authentic ‘cramped’ visual.”

There’s also an authenticity and a ‘rawness’ to each character and their tribulations that seems refreshingly unromanticised. Much like the film’s cinematography, it’s gritty, real, and pulls no punches in its characterisations. Payal puts this down to her non-fiction background.  “My cinematographer, Ranabir Das, consciously tried to keep the camera very light and observational,” she says. “We always strived to avoid being too obtrusive. When we were writing the script, we spent so much time just shooting in and around Mumbai and getting our friends to exist in the spaces we envisioned using. We would make them do things like travel on the metro and walk along the skywalk and shoot things that weren’t really ‘for’ anything but were rather observational exercises. That process really helped us capture things authentically.”

Migration as a phenomenon and the stress it puts on individuals and families is something that’s well documented and researched, but few films depict it with the nuance and complexity of Payal’s lens. For both of the protagonists, there’s a clear yearning for love, companionship, and a place that feels a little more familiar and maybe even a little more like home. “Mumbai is a city of migrants and very few people are actually ‘natively’ from here,” says Payal as she reflects on one of the film’s key themes. “My own grandmother migrated during Partition from what became Pakistan. Mumbai is a city that was seven separate islands and it’s the British that made it this commercial hub we know today. It was a city built for migrant workers to come in and work. Migration is embedded in the very essence of this city so it makes sense to tell these stories.” 

As we reach the end of our conversation, I pivot to Payal’s own journey as a filmmaker and a creative. From the very beginning, during her time at the Film and Television Institute Of India, she’s been unflinchingly outspoken about her vision, her ideals, and her convictions and this has allowed her to carve the niche that she now finds herself in. 

But this unwillingness to compromise your vision beyond a point, isn’t something that everyone is able to do. As a creative, it’s often far easier and lucrative to take the path of least resistance; to give in to what’s established as the norm and to create what sells and fits into the current notion of what’s ‘popular’. I ask her, point blank, how she navigates this and what keeps her going. 

“For me, I don’t set out with any real expectations of success or prestige,” explains Payal. “To keep your nose on the ground is very important as a filmmaker.”

Invoking Japanese filmmaking legend Akira Kurosawa, she goes on to say, “Making a film is like climbing a very tall mountain. If you look at the peak, it’s going to make you dizzy. So just look at your feet and keep going. I think that’s true of any creative process because all of it takes time. If you keep thinking about making it to a festival, it’s just going to overwhelm you. There’s nothing you can actually control beyond your own work so the best you can do is keep working and hope for the best.”

'All We Imagine Is Light' is now in theatres. 

You can follow the film’s official Instagram account here. 

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