Four prominent directors get together to weave a pastiche of pain and reconciliation in My Melbourne. The stories are told with a compelling clarity and cohesion, and we come away from them enriched, perhaps wiser, without being told how to live our lives. The tone of storytelling in every segment is never preachy, always gentle (even when emotional or physical violence is involved) and beseeching, as though to tell us that even when life sucks—as it often does—there is always a way out. So never despair.
Significantly, each segment is named after a woman. In the first segment Nandini (the name of a character who is already dead when the story begins), a father travels from Kolkata to Melbourne after his wife’s death to make peace with his gay son Indraneel (played by a striking Bangladeshi-Australian actor Arka Das). Director Onir shows a strong grip on his characters even as they wrestle with their inner demons, the surface tension is tempered. This is the calm AFTER the storm, and what a serene, sensitive place to be in! If God lies in the details, then this one is a mythological: Indraneel wiping away his nail polish in respect for his father’s presence, the tears beneath the surface, Indraneel’s partner Chris’s (Jackson Gallagher) genuine efforts to make conservation with Indraneel’s Dad (who insists Chris is a doctor and not a nurse, since in his mindset men and nursing don’t go together)… Incidentally, the one bedroom moment between Indraneel and Chris is the best depiction of gay intimacy seen in a film with Indian characters.
The second segment of the anthology Jules, directed by Arif Ali (with “creative” direction by his brother Imtiaz, whatever that means), is the only one of the quartet of stories with a negative, abusive character. He is our heroine Sakshi’s bullying husband and, significantly, we never see his face in the entire film: there is no place in this celebration of migratory life for party-poopers. Sakshi, an unstoppable dream chaser and a wannabe chef, is waiting tables, assisting her kind chef (Jake Ryan), hoping to be one of those someday. In the meantime, she has a homeless, cranky old woman, Jules (Kat Stewart), to deal with. The frisson and the empathy inherent in the story is ably handled. Arushi Sharma, in the central role, is charming and committed to her character. The rest of the cast is buoyant and supportive.
The other two stories are locked at the hips by a common factor: in both, the real-life character plays her screen version. In Rima Das’ Emma, Ryana Sky delivers a touching graceful performance as a hearing impaired ballet dancer facing imminent blindness, struggling to remain afloat in a world that is progressively letting her ambitions slide through the cracks. There is no self-pity here, only a determination to keep pushing ahead from the end of the queue. Rima Das fills Emma’s world with kindness and empathy. And there is the Indian sunshine boy Jai (Jordan Sharma), who dances around her like a flighty, flirtatious butterfly….This segment catches a lot of Melbourne’s exteriors in happy moments.
Finally—and I wished it wouldn’t end—there is Setara, the story of an Afghani cricketer in Melbourne who will chase her dream without dropping her hijab. There is an abundance of warmth and tenderness in this Kabir Khan-directed story, too. The title role is taken over by Setara Amiri as though she owns it (which she does). Setara in the land of escape, Australia, is a dream come true. She is surrounded by people who want her to excel. I especially liked the genuine warmth of Brad Hodge as Setara’s coach. Ella Wilson, as Setara’s sister, is also very convincing…
But then, who is not? No one can afford to be a posteurer in this all-heart, no-pretence anthology about people in transition lunging towards their dreams with both their hands. Kudos to producer Mitu Bhowmick Lange for giving shape to intangible hopes.
