The 16th annual New York Indian Film Festival (NYIFF) opened last weekend, featuring narrative, documentary and short films from South Asian filmmakers and actors across the world. On Monday night, the festival tackled the themes of love and laughter through 12 short films that spanned the topics of sperm donors, zodiac signs, and everything in between. While the two-and-a-half hour running time that crept into Tuesday morning hindered the effectiveness of the program, the featured films successfully covered a wide range of points of view and subjects to keep it engaging all the way through.
The program kicked off with light-hearted comedies. First to the screen was Spunkle, whichfocused on an interracial lesbian couple’s interest in having children and their decision to enlist a close family member as their sperm donor (sperm donor + uncle = spunkle. It’s simple math!). Spunkle subverted all characterization expectations, casting the non-South Asian half of the couple as a spiritual yogi and the Indian half as a career-centric woman that loves sex, all the while finding the balance between meaningful and funny. The film’s trio was funny and likable and provided the perfect jumping off point for the rest of the show.
The following film, titled First Date, poked fun at arranged marriages and the romantic expectations of the individuals in these relationships. The two-person-film was carried by Anisha Adusumilli, who threw herself into the role of a sexual fantasy that hit both awkward and hilarious notes simultaneously. Familiar faces like Danny Pudi of NBC’s acclaimed sitcom Community and Gerrard Lobo, who made the most out of his one-episode stint on Aziz Ansari’s Master of None, played prominent parts in lead romantic roles that challenge their previous onscreen personas. In Taken to the Cleaner, Pudi depicted an adorable man who falls in love with his dry cleaning lady and enlists a friend to help him capture her heart. Shedding the awkward skin of Abed Nadir, Pudi inhabited the playful and hopelessly-in-love main character with a sincerity that makes me excited for his future projects. The visuals and musical cues that director Will Sankhla plays within Cleaner also bring gravitas to the quest and helps to ground the audience in the big romantic gestures (namely, a fake robbery at gunpoint). Meanwhile, writer/director Kabir Chopra’s Misaligned steered more towards the Bollywood end of the spectrum, exploring astrology and the concept of soulmates.
The engagement party proclamation of love set-up is one of the oldest in the book, but effectively created urgency to the story. Lobo puts his ‘Mumbai Muscle’ away to play a vulnerable man born without a love line on his palm, who has the gift of seeing people’s zodiac signs. When he meets Nadia, he’s unable to determine her sign and realizes she’s the one he’s been searching for all along. Chopra’s direction flashes between present and past giving us the holistic view of their love story, and the scene blocking makes it clear that this duo is better together than they are apart.
Strangers also teetered close to a classic Bollywood love story but thrived on the simplicity and realness of the acting and intimacy of the filmmaking. The story is of a boy and girl that meet and fall in love and must navigate the waters of staying together despite a pesky ex and a looming move across the world. The chemistry between the two leads is palpable and sells the shortened timeline of love – or at least lust – in a way that feels familiar to all audiences. The end left viewers feeling a bit helpless in the way that love usually does: there’s hardly ever enough time to spend with loved ones, and we rarely express all the things we wish to say. The strength of curating a lineup based on a singular theme is that there are many genres at play to keep the lineup fresh. The audience experienced a slapstick “who’s the father?” Maury-esque dilemma in Peace of Mind Guaranteed, tongue-in-cheek humor in the supernatural El’aiyichi and heavy drama in Flipside, First Love, and No Anesthesia, all of which delved into the pain of moving on after tragedy strikes. Death is featured prominently in Flipside and First Love, both charging head-first into the immediate depression of losing a significant other, while El’aiyichi followed a woman who is literally haunted by her dead husband. Listener played with all sorts of emotions as we spent time with a man who is paid to listen to the (often shallow) plights of his peers, and No Anesthesia made us all watch the resident dentist of a remote Indian village pull out a tooth of the local gangster with – you guessed it – no anesthesia.
Being a program dedicated largely to stories of love, romance scored the undertones of every film. Be it romance between two people, man and city, or man and machine, the short films all captured the magic of the feeling. In one of the program’s standouts, Can and Sulochan, an Indian man posted in Tokyo for work battles loneliness and bonds with the one “person” that’s kind to him in a foreign land: the automated vending machine that he frequents. Sheryar Khan’s wide-eyed innocence as the titular Sulochan is the secret ingredient here, mixed expertly with beautiful visuals that carefully portray which version of the world we are experiencing: gloomy during loneliness and bright as Sulochan begins to find happiness. Can and Sulochan was one of most unique love stories showcased on Monday, not just because of the subjects of the story or because of the affection it evokes toward a Japanese vending machine, but because it underlined the thesis of the program itself: we all just want someone to love and laugh with. Though lengthy, NYIFF’s “Love, Laughter, and Other Stories” shorts program was strengthened by the diverse points of view and types of stories on display. There was noticeable inclusion across characters, circumstances, and even location that makes me hopeful for the future of Indian and South Asian cinema. We traveled from small villages in India to the streets of New York and experienced the excitement of lust, the pangs of heartbreak, and the pain of a rotten tooth with people gay and straight, Indian and American, honest and deceitful. It was a melting pot of artistic voices, perfectly defining New York City.
Radhika Menon is a writer, TV connoisseur and pizza enthusiast living in New York City. She is a proud Michigan native and alumna of the University of Michigan. She loves puns and is sometimes funny on Twitter: follow her @menonrad.
September 19, 2023September 19, 2023 3min readBy Nida Hasan
Image Courtesy: TIFF
There’s often an element of dysfunctionality that exists within South Asian families. Especially immigrant families, who are carrying with them the burden of intergenerational trauma, shame and guilt; holding onto the last straw of cultural traditions that they have forever known to be the convention, in order to avoid the obliteration of these said values to “Western” ideologies. But what the older generation tends to forget is that they, too, may have been the rebels of their time; misplaced, misfits for the standards of their predecessors. They, too, with their big, ‘American’ dreams (Canadian, in this case) quite possibly left their elders grappling with the loss of their legacy to the unknown. Fawzia Mirza’s “The Queen of My Dreams,” which premiered at the 48th annual Toronto International Film Festival, probes into this disparity, drawing on the complexities of a strained mother-daughter relationship in what is an endearing and emotional tale of loss, love, and nostalgia.
Azra (Amrit Kaur) — a Muslim Canadian teenager — is met with the sudden news of her father’s untimely demise. Her father (Hamza Haq) was the only mediator and one of the two shared loves (the other being the ’60s iconic Bollywood song, “Mere Sapnon Ki Rani”) between Azra and her devout mother, Mariam (Nimra Bucha), who rarely see eye-to-eye otherwise. A grieving Azra hops on a plane to Pakistan to attend her father’s funeral and from here on, through fragmented images, viewers are taken on a dramatic yet poignant journey across generations, cultures, and continents, all contrasting each other, but very much in tandem in the telling of the story.
For those who’ve seen Bucha’s talent unfold on Pakistani television can probably vouch for her versatility as an actor. She may have “not fit into the industry” that loves itself a damsel in distress, but seldom has she failed to prove her acting prowess. She is now living this title of a ‘Rising International Star’ to watch out for and deservingly so. She adds a welcome eccentricity and flamboyance to the role of an aspirational, immigrant wife trying to add to the household income by selling Tupperware to white folks. And, at the same time, lends this relatable humanism, fragility, and desperation to her character of an immigrant mother reconnecting with her faith at the sight of losing control over her life and her daughter’s. She allows viewers to recognize what her character cannot see in herself.
Bucha is matched, if not completely outshone, by Kaur, who seamlessly switches between the roles of an adventurous and ambitious young Mariam and a grieving Azra. The latter is frustrated with the cultural and religious norms set out to restrict women around her; she’s also a queer Muslim teen struggling to gain her mother’s acceptance after she abandoned their once-thriving bond at the time of her coming-of-age awakening. Kaur portrays the many layers of her character with sheer nuance, depth, and sincerity. Her dexterity as an actor is evident in how tightly she grips onto the idiosyncracies of each character as if it’s not the same, but two different individuals enacting them.
Film Still Courtesy: Organic PR
It is delightful to see Gul-e-Rana play something other than a loud, overbearing, or vengeful matriarch, while still very much being in the same category. The particular scene where Rana whispers to her daughter Mariam on her wedding stage, commending her for truly being the great actor she hopes to become by hiding her groom’s plans of migration all the while, almost makes you sympathize with her character. Unfortunately, there isn’t much to do for the talented Haq who plays the father and the husband, but he sure exudes the perfect charm of a romantic Bollywood hero if he ever chooses to pursue that path.
Mirza weaves and explores a multitude of challenging social issues such as immigration, identity, and sexuality around the intricacies of an intense mother-daughter relationship, without leaving any loose threads. What you are left with is the possibility of Mariam and Azra showing each other some grace, having dived into their past that boils down to the fact that even though they stand at odds with each other — estranged and unforgiving — they have more in common than they’d admit. Queer or not, “The Queen of My Dreams” will offer some relatability to every immigrant mother and her multi-hyphenated daughter. It is like gazing at a self-portrait that persuades you to reflect on the past and its impact on your present, and to rethink the trajectory of your future. It also reminds you that all battles — be they of epic proportions or marked by petty grievances — should and must come to an end because life is just too short.
February 1, 2023March 7, 2023 3min readBy Varsha Panikar
Photo Courtesy of Varsha Panikar
“After so Long” is a poetry film created for Simha’s EP, which is streaming on Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon Music. The poem was collaboratively written by Simha, a U.S. native, and Jae, who is based in India, during the 2020 lockdown. “After so Long” was recited by Simha and their parents. In 2022, I directed and produced the film through my studio, Star Hopper. “After so Long” premiered on Nowness Asia in March 2022.
This film is a worldwide collaboration among trans and queer south-Asian artists from the United States, India and Canada. It was recorded, shot and filmed during the lockdown of 2020 and 2021.
Jae:
Awake at 10 am but out of bed at noon,
I want to be here where I lose myself in these sheets
Glancing through half-shut eyes
At the gold pressing past my window
The glimmer remarks on the ledge of my bed
But the voices are so loud
Like dust collecting in the corner of my room
I am unaware to why I’m still here
With the chilling doubt of the breeze…
I’m swept into lucidity After so long
Dad:
Mil rahi hoon mein aaj iske saang barso baad,
(Today, I’ll be meeting them after so long)
Koi paata nahi diya tune
(But with no destination sight,)
Kya karu?
(What should I do?)
Kaha jau?
(Where should I go?)
Shayad agar mein chalne lagoon,
(Perhaps, if I keep walking)
Inn yaadon ki safar mein
(Down this road of memories)
Mujhe samajh mein ayega,
(I will find out)
Yeh rasta kahaan jayega,
(Where this road leads)
Inn aari tedhi pakadandiyon pe baarte hi jaana hai,
(Through the twists and turns of this winding roads, I must keep going on)
Mujhe mil na hain aaj uske saath,
(I wish to meet them today)
Barso baad.
(After so long)
Simha:
I feel like I’m retracing my footsteps
From these concrete stretches
To broken cement walls
Chips and cracks forge their way for new designs
I see the old abandoned buildings
That once held the warmth of bodies
Now just hold memories
Supporting the nature’s resilience
In vines and moss
After so long
Mom:
Dhoondli shishe mein jaaga leli hai
(These isty mirrors have offered refuge)
Bikhri hui laatao ne,
(To these scattered vines)
Zameen pe uchi ghaas pe
(Amidst the tall grass stretching from the ground)
Lehrati kamsan kaliyaa
(The swaying little buds)
Bheeni bheeni khushboo bikhereti
(Spreading honeysuckle scent through the air)
Phir wahi mausam,
(I lose myself in reminiscing, the same season)
Wahi dil,
(The same heart)
Baarso baad.
(After so long)
Phir bhi mein chal rahi hoon aaj
(Still, I keep carrying on today)
Khudko khudse milane ke liye
(In the pursuit of my higher self)
Inn galiyo se guzarna hain aaj
(I must pass through these streets today)
Chaalte chaale jaana hai aaj
(I must keep going on today)
Kabhi hum milenge kisi mor paar
(Someday, we’ll meet again, somewhere on this road)
barso baad
(After so long)
Kabhi hum milenge kisi mor pe
(Someday, we’ll meet again, somewhere on this road)
barso baad
(After so long)
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Weddings, huh? Talk about a stress fest. And for the bride, it’s like a 24/7 walk on eggshells. However, add in a paranoid and overprotective sister, and you’ve got a recipe for a completely different degree of drama. In “Polite Society,” Ria Khan (Priya Kansara) and her gang of clumsy pals take the phrase “till death do us part” to a whole new level as they plot to “steal” the bride — aka Ria’s own sister, Lena (Ritu Arya), during her shaadi reception. But with a wedding hall packed with guests, a mother-in-law from hell, and a groom with more shades of fraud than a rainbow, this heist is anything but smooth sailing.
It goes without saying but “Polite Society” comes with a cast of wacky characters, gut-busting one-liners, and an action-packed heist sequence, making it a must-watch for anyone who loves a good comedy. I mean who hasn’t dealt with some serious wedding drama, am I right?
Lead actress Kansara agrees wholeheartedly. “I definitely have!” she chuckles, as I catch up with her at Soho Hotel in London. Despite the rubbish weather outside, Kansara is a ray of sunshine with her infectious enthusiasm.
The minute I read the script, I thought to myself…wow, playing Ria is going to be one wild ride!
And wild is definitely the right word to describe her character. Ria is a British-Pakistani martial artist-in-training from London, determined to become a professional stuntwoman. Her sister, Lena, who dropped out of uni, often ends up being the guinea pig for filming Ria’s stunts for YouTube, including one lovingly dubbed “the fury.” She reveals
I’d never done martial arts before this film. The stunt training started from the day I got the role, and it was three to four times a week all the way until we finished filming. It was a seven-week period in total, and boy, was it physically demanding. Oh my God, I think I can add a whole new skills section to my CV! But on a serious note, it was so much fun and we had an amazing stunt team. They, including my stunt double, taught me so much. It was important to me to do my own stunts as much as possible, but also strike a healthy balance.
For South Asian women, who are often expected to be quiet and agreeable, all that punching and kicking on set must have been cathartic, right?
Honestly, it was like anger management at work! I got to kick and throw things around — it was the perfect balance.
What sets Kansara apart from other actors starting out in the industry is her ability to draw from her own life experiences to bring authenticity to her characters on screen. Her career began with a degree from UCL and a communications job at a pharmaceutical company. But today, her versatile range and unwavering commitment to her craft have propelled her to the forefront of British comedy, portraying defiant South Asian women we’d love to see in real life.
From my own experience as a South Asian woman, I’ve always been told to do what’s ‘proper’ and think twice before speaking up. Playing a character like Ria and putting myself in her shoes, I felt like I was doing and saying things that I wish I had done at her age. It was almost like living through her and speaking my mind about things I never did.
Without a doubt, every South Asian woman on this planet wishes she cared more about herself and less about what other people think.
Ria totally inspired me. If only I had her mindset when I was younger, my career path would have taken off way sooner instead of worrying about other people’s opinions.
The chemistry between the cast members on and off-screen is so apparent, especially the sisterhood between Ria and Lena. The wild adventures of a bride, and her paranoid maid of honour navigating through family drama, are bound to create some unforgettable moments on set.
We both confess our love and admiration for Nimra Bucha’s portrayal of Raheela, Lena’s evil mother-in-law and share a teenage fangirling moment:
I’m obsessed with that woman. There’s something terrifying yet ultra sexy about her character in “Polite Society” that’s mesmerising. I absolutely loved the dance sequence. As South Asians, we’ve all grown up watching Bollywood films and idolising Madhuri Dixit’s iconic dance moves. “Polite Society” gave me my Bollywood heroine moment, and it was a dream come true with the costumes and jewellery.
It’s definitely a unique experience for Kansara, considering her former career was worlds apart from entertainment. So, what advice does she have for aspiring actors who may secretly wish to pursue the same path, but are unsure of the next steps? Kansara advises, drawing from her character’s heist-planning skills.
I believe starting small and honing your craft is an underrated superpower. If you’re passionate about acting, make short-form videos, and build your portfolio. You never know who might be watching.
So, grab your popcorn and your sense of humour, and get ready for “Polite Society” — the film that proves that sometimes, the most polite thing to do is kick some butt and save the day. It released in cinemas on April 28th, and I highly recommend it.