All of us have endured young children selling things, while we wait at the traffic signal. And we have all been in the morally awkward position of shooing away these kids away. We showcase our distaste for the class system of India, comment on the rise of poverty, express our empathy towards child labour. Yet, it’s all talk and no work. Suresh Eriyat’s film, Tokri, shows us the other side of the story.

The Beguiling Plot

Narrated from the perspective of a poor family, we see a young school-going girl and two working parents living on the Mumbai footpath. They don’t seem to have a lot of money, yet they possess the wealth of love. From the very beginning, the film Tokri draws attention to the loving relationship between the father and daughter. Small endearing moments of her father teasing her, highlight the tenderness of their relationship.

The film progresses illustrating the curiousness of the young child when she notices her father stealthily opens up an old trunk. She hears him fondly caressing certain items. The next morning, when her parents leave for work, she lets curiosity get the best of her. She finds and opens the old trunk to find a precious item (watch the film to find what it was!) But as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat – and a clumsy accident led to a series of unfortunate events.  

The Technical Genius

The following tale continues with guilt, family values, agony and a lot of love. Tokri will truly touch your emotional core. It will make you smile, might make you cry, but will definitely touch your heart. Through all the layers of the story itself, we have to talk about the technical brilliance of this creation.

Shot in Claymation, this 14-minute-long film took over 8 years to make! Claymation is a form of stop-motion animation where every object – character or prop – is constructed from malleable substance like plasticine clay. Like in stop-motion, every frame is singularly recorded and then pieced together in quick succession for the illusion of motion.

Apart from that one has to appreciate the painstaking effort that was put into the detailing of the film. Whether it be the expressions of the characters, the lighting and ambience, the tiny details of streetscape – it is all simply immaculate! There will be moments in the film when you will forget that these are all clay figures made by someone and not real people. Alongside this incredible work, you cannot forget the significance of sound design in Tokri. From small sounds of wind to loud horns and ticking of clocks, the attention to detail is nothing less than perfectionism.

The 30 awards and wins and over 50 nominations attest to the brilliance of the film.

Before the world was hit with a pandemic – so contagious that people lost the pleasure of human presence – we took all the little joys of life for granted. Being in a room with people and experiencing the presence of another human had no significance in our lives. Perhaps it was because we always had other things to whine about. Yet, connections and relationships are the core of our existence. At last, we humans are social creatures. Varsha Vasudev’s film, Ente Narayanikku, reminds us of all the things we take for granted. It reminds us to express gratitude for what we have, for we never know what the future holds.

Set in 2020, the film revolves around the covid-pandemic. It reminds the audience how real the pandemic is and its impact on the lives of people. As the wave of covid hit, interacting with humans became illegal. Social distancing became a necessity. And people started realizing the significance of human presence.

Ente Narayanikku begins with an introduction to the protagonist, Narayani who has been quarantined. For the next fourteen days, she is confined to her apartment. Soon after, we find out about a young man living in the adjacent apartment.

As the film progresses, we follow their budding relationship. Aditi Ravi, who plays the role of Narayani, carries the movie forward with her incredible acting. Moreover, Unni Mukundan, playing the character of the young man, remains unseen throughout the film. In fact, the film strongly references an award-winning Malayalam film, Mathilukal (1990). Following a similar trope of developing a connection with another despite not being able to see their face, touch them or feel them.

Click the link below to watch Ente Narayanikku, a film about human connections amidst the pandemic and an unexpected twist in the end!

‘The Ice-Man’, perhaps, evokes a ominous sense of anticipation through its title. However, the actual subject matter of the film is far from anything that projects dread or memories of notorious mob figures. Set against the backdrop of a convenience store in suburban America, ‘The Ice-Man’ is a short film that examines an everyday instance of assumed political correctness. Produced by Dunhill Studios and directed by Heerak Shah, the short film is a hilarious glimpse into the roles we assume while correcting someone else’s supposed patterns of behaviour while blindly ignoring our own. It is as much a social comedy as it is a brief commentary on social perception and assumptions. What is even more impressive is that the film manages to fit all of that into an extremely miniscule duration of approximately two and a half minutes.

‘The Ice-Man’ has Omi Vaidya playing the role of a disgruntled customer, perusing the aisles of a convenience store. When he is approached for help in finding ice by another customer, played by Heather Cole, the day’s problems finally set him off and he vents his frustration towards her. The film, itself, may be short and not an elaborate setup to scrutinize the social dynamics that are present today in a culture of political correctness, however, it leaves you with an imprinted impression, one that pushes you to do the questioning on your own. 

All of this seems like a far fetched derivation from a movie that runs only about 2 minutes. However, there lies the beauty of it. Besides, the obvious surprise of Taizu’s ‘Look’ playing during the credits, ‘The Ice-Man’ is like that little disguised joke you tell someone, one that is built on actual experience and has a host of social implications behind it. It seems like a offhand comment or a verbal jab but, underneath the surface, it hides layers of meaning.

Watch it. It won’t disappoint you. 

At a certain point, while you are watching the animated short film ‘What Is Your Brown Number’, you see a factual statement on screen. The remark revolves around the billion dollar industry of skin whitening products fuelled by our country’s obsession with fairer skin. It makes you think about how something that is truly insignificant, bolstered by generational and cultural embedding, can go on to become a national concern and even keep companies not just afloat but churning billions out in profit every year. ‘What Is Your Brown Number’ is as much an actual conversation as it is a satirical short film, touching on one of the most ingrained cultural norms and beliefs that we carry as a nation and a collective society.

Written and conceptualized by Vinnie Ann Bose as her thesis film, from her time at the National Institute of Design, ‘What Is Your Brown Number’ comes out of the incubation initiative hosted by Indian animation mainstay, Studio Eeksaurus. 

The short film follows the signature animation style that is present in some of the other films by Studio Eeksaurus. A lighter touch, carefully punctuated with vibrant imagery and clean visuals, helps the film tackle a subject that, for the longest time, has been a deeply culturally ingrained issue. There is a sense of levity that Bose and creative director, Suresh Eriyat, inject into the issue. The absurdity of the existence of a scale that measures skin tones and the dependent social hierarchy all draw from real life social perceptions and instances. And while thinking about that may seem depressing, the film aptly maneuvers itself to point to the actual invalidity of these societal judgements. Come to think of it, honestly, how awkward was it to see those advertisements on television where the brands proudly showcased that they included an actual scale, for skin tones, inside the product packaging? 

That’s the tone that the film follows. It points to the absurdity and the invalidity of some of the beliefs and things that we have come to normalize as a society. It’s not just skin tones and the Indian obsession with fair skin, it also serves to provoke you into thinking about the myriad number of things, things that we have come to normalize, that exist within our society. It takes a lighter route, sure, gently prodding you to examine the thought on your own. However, the thought, itself, is a serious one and that, alone, is enough to start a discussion.

Human relationships are a complex blend of emotions, running parallel with societal strings. It, sometimes, becomes incredibly difficult to navigate our relationships openly due to the importance placed on the sanctity of certain societal actions and institutions. ‘Option’, a short film written and directed by Shilpa Godbole, revolves around this very idea. The film is less of an exploration of a relationship and more of an examination of the attempt to navigate the intricacies of a relationship. Carried beautifully by veteran actors, Mrunal Kulkarni and Sunil Barve, ‘Option’ is an important movie, not because of what it captures, but because of what it tries to say.

Following the characters of Aniket and Priya, a couple well into their married life, ‘Option’ builds on the immense sanctity that we, as an Indian society, place on the institution of marriage, the utter finality of it. Aniket and Priya have been living separately for years now, their son, now a young adult, living on his own in the United States. After twenty years of marriage, their own personal differences proved too much for them to inhabit the same space. Yet, they do not seek divorce. No. That would be going against the ingrained values that they have come to believe in. Instead, they live separate lives, with Aniket pursuing his passion for floriculture and Priya engrossed in her own passion for singing. For all intents and purposes, to the outside world, they are still a married couple with a son. 

The film captures the day Priya goes to meet Aniket, intending to discuss the sale of a property that they own. A property in which they had intended to spend their 50th wedding anniversary. What follows is the dissection of a marriage and an examination of the convoluted issues we, sometimes, face in our relationships. 

Shilpa Godbole, through ‘Option’, does not mean to discuss the futility of holding marriage on a pedestal. That is not her intention. Instead, she means to look at it through a neutral lens, not placing any emphasis on its ability to be a binding agent in society but really examining it for its ability to build something. Sunil Barve and Mrunal Kulkarni do an excellent job of portraying a couple at odds with each other, but really trying their best to hold on to what they built together. There are jabs, references to past habits and a general frustration, with what the other person is blind to, that comes through in their dialogue and expressions. It is, indeed, a powerful film, one built on the idea of capturing real people with real problems. And, in all the ensuing bleary reality, Godbole, Barve and Kulkarni manage to instill a tiny ray of hope and happiness.

The film, truly, builds on the concept of imperfection and flaws that live within us all. And, yet, despite it all, we choose who we choose and we make it work. It is worth watching for that simple thought alone.