ONE of this year’s most celebrated cinematic triumphs has been Payal Kapadia’s All We Imagine As Light winning the prestigious Grand Prix award at the Cannes Film Festival.
This victory demonstrated that a powerful story, strong performances, and beautiful cinematography can achieve greatness without a big budget or an expensive star cast. The critically acclaimed film also introduced the exceptional talent of Kapadia as a visionary film - maker. Its award-winning journey across international festivals has further cemented her reputation as a writer and director.
With the realistic drama set to be in UK cinemas next Friday (29), Kapadia spoke to Eastern Eye at the BFI London Film Festival about her journey, the film’s core message, and the artistry behind it.
Do you remember what first connected you to filmmaking?
No, actually, I don’t exactly remember when, but growing up I used to go to a film club, where once a week, my chemistry teacher, who was a cinephile, used to show us a movie. I think that was where the interest in cinema started, but over the years, I was lost as a student, and cinema pro - vided me with something I was always very interested in consistently. I thought that this is something I could do.
What inspired the story of All We Imagine As Light ?
The story took a long time to form because I started writing it almost six years ago. At the time, I was interested in making a film about women who come to work in Mumbai, particularly in a hospital setting. There were many themes I wanted to explore, and this premise allowed me to address them. Growing up in a family with four generations of women also gave me a deep connection to generational stories, which be - came a central part of the narrative.
Great performances have helped define this film. How important was it to get such a strong cast?
I think having good actors, or at least ones who understand the language of your film, is the greatest joy for any director. They weren’t just coming, working, and leaving – we became very close and worked extensively before the shooting began. We spent three weeks together rehearsing and trying out different approaches.
Tell us about that process of preparation.
We shot many scenes in five different ways with a small DSLR camera and reviewed them repeatedly. Pre-production involved a lot of rigour, and not all actors can give you that level of time and energy. Their generosity of spirit and focus as artists greatly benefited me as a director.
How important was it for you to keep this film rooted in reality?
I draw a lot of inspiration from research and observation. My cameraperson and I spent years shooting Mumbai, not with the intention of using the footage in the film, but as observational exercises. Reality has a richness that often surpasses imagination. This approach helped create an authentic visual and narrative style.
The beautiful camerawork makes this movie a visual delight. Can you talk about that?
My cameraperson, Ranabir Das, has been collaborating with me for over a decade. We discuss the visual elements of the story from the scriptwriting stage because we both believe the imagery is as much a part of the narrative as the dialogue.
The film is divided into two parts with distinct looks…
Yes, we discussed how to shoot the two parts differently – the lenses, colours, and overall design were carefully chosen to reflect the passage of time and shifts in tone. We even used different seasons and light to create contrasting moods.
My favourite moment is when Dr Manoj confesses his love to the conflicted nurse. What is your favourite moment?
I also like that scene with Dr Manoj on the swing. Placing it in a garden where all the benches are occupied, forcing them to sit on the swings, created an awkwardness that matched the dialogue perfectly. I enjoyed writing and making that scene. I also loved working on the second-tolast scene, which allowed me to experiment, transitioning from realism to something more fantastical.
A still from All We Imagine As LightBut I wanted them to get together…
The optimistic viewer will think that she will go back and be with him.
How was the Cannes Film Festival experience?
What stood out to me was that exactly a year earlier, in May 2023, we were rehearsing the film in loose pyjamas, living together for weeks. Fast forward a year, and we were at Cannes, dressed up and experiencing something extraordinary together. That was nice.
How much does winning such a prestigious award mean to you?
It’s a great privilege. Cannes is a festival that showcases filmmakers I’ve admired for years, so to have my work recognised there is an honour.
Do you feel pressure going forward, with expectations now sky high?
I try not to think about the end goal. Filmmaking takes years – it’s like longdistance running. You have to focus on the process, not the destination.
Did you learn anything while making this film?
Absolutely. Filmmaking is a continuous learning process. My previous film was called A Night of Knowing Nothing because I approach every project with the mindset of knowing very little. As you research and create, you discover so much along the way. That is one of the nicest things about being a filmmaker.
You have become a hero, but who are your filmmaking heroes?
I have many. I’m a cinephile and watch a lot of films. I admire filmmakers like Chantal Akerman, Agnès Varda, Claire Denis, Naomi Kawase, Margaret Tait, and many others.
What can we expect next from you?
I’ve started working on another project, also set in Mumbai. I hope to create a trilogy about the city. The next film is still in the early writing stage and stems from the research I did for All We Imagine As Light.
You will inspire many young women and girls with your achievements. Do you want to see more female filmmakers?
Definitely. The more diverse the voices in filmmaking, the richer the stories we tell. Different perspectives help us step outside the limitations of our own experiences.
Is there a key message in your new film?
At its core, my film is about empathy and understanding people we may not agree with. In today’s world, where ideologies often divide us, I hope the film encourages viewers to connect with others on a deeper level.
What inspires you as a filmmaker?
Everyday life inspires me endlessly.
All We Imagine As Light will be released in cinemas next Fri day (29).
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5