Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Stay informed with free updatesSimply sign up to the Film myFT Digest — delivered directly to your inbox.It’s fair to say that Sister Midnight is not like any Indian film you have seen: for one thing, its soundtrack includes Buddy Holly, Howlin’ Wolf and Motörhead. In stylistic terms, Wes Anderson comes to mind: UK-based debut director Karan Kandhari has the same penchant for sight gags and symmetry. But in contrast with Anderson’s glibly touristic The Darjeeling Limited, this Mumbai-set black comedy depicts India as seen by an Indian director with a rock’n’roll imagination and an anarchic sense of the outré.The story begins as glum marital farce. Radhika Apte plays Uma, newly arrived in Mumbai after her arranged marriage to Gopal (Ashok Pathak), a print worker who proves an ineffectual dud. His tendency to collapse drunk after evenings with workmates leaves Uma isolated, restless and bitterly frustrated. She starts to explore the city — then, after a perplexing incident with a mosquito, starts to wander alone at night. That’s when the film shifts into a very different register. And then the goats appear . . .This UK/India/Sweden co-production is a briskly lawless movie, one that — despite coherently following the story of Uma’s self-liberation — seems to invent itself as it goes along. The rhythm is singular, the characters often moving super-jerkily, like puppets or figures in a hand-cranked silent comedy. Apte’s magnetically hyper-charged performance trades heavily on stylised gestures and mad-eyed double takes: the way she walks, runs, sits down, even raises her eyebrows, all feels very choreographed. Music stops and starts abruptly; the whole film seems to have a chronic case of jitters. But for all its abrasive agitation, Sister Midnight is also oddly poignant — and quite beautiful, Sverre Sørdal’s widescreen photography vividly supercharging the city’s night neons and the coloured fabrics of daytime.With Hindi dialogue and piquant English subtitles (“Let’s never hang with those dickheads again”), Sister Midnight has the sort of slapshot wilfulness that could well make every viewer grind their teeth at least once. But there’s also irresistible euphoria and invention here. This is a film surely destined to take its place in the annals of counterculture sleeper hits — they used to call them “midnight movies” after all. ★★★★☆In UK cinemas from March 14
