Sister Midnight: ‘A film of experimental gastronomy’

Radhika Apte plays Uma, a woman trapped in a loveless marriage

Lo and behold the dawn of female rage. British director Karan Kandhari’s feature is one of many weird, wacky and outright outrageous films depicting the power of a woman’s wrath that have been gracing our cinema screens of late (think also of The Nightingale, Amulet, Nightbitch and The Substance) and we’re all the better for it.

Kandhari’s contribution takes place in Mumbai, as newlyweds Uma (Bollywood star Radhika Apte) and Gopal (Ashok Pathak) begin their lives in a tiny studio room that resembles more of a prison cell, Uma’s marriage bangles sitting stiff and awkwardly on her arms like shackles. Barely a word is spoken in the first 10 minutes as we witness Uma shell-shocked and isolated; Gopal rushes out each morning for work and returns home late, drunk and utterly uninterested in his bored, frustrated wife.

Kandhari’s emphasis on visual storytelling here is brought abrasively to life by Apte’s searing physical comedy; each side eye conveys a thousand heated arguments, each step into the food market a deafening stomp against her banal marital duties. She is a joy to watch, standing firmly alongside comic greats like Keaton and Chaplin, while Kandhari and his designer Shruti Gupte clearly draw inspiration from Roy Andersson and, in one disturbing scene, Ari Aster.

From here, we take a screeching turn into the absurd as – following a mosquito bite – Uma starts to get a taste for flesh, tearing into birds like feathered juice boxes. The birds’ revived corpses through stop-motion animation provides yet another scrumptious texture to dig our teeth into, akin to a disturbed and bloodied Snow White.

The film not only concocts varying textures but also mingles together a broad range of genres, from comedy and horror to gothic punk and thriller, like some sort of experimental gastronomy – each scene a stunning dish, chucking together acid, sugar, salt, bitterness, and spice in rich flavours and colours to create something deliciously bizarre and clever that somehow (and God knows how) works. The film is bigger than the sum of its parts.

Similarly with the music, Kandhari and the score’s composer Paul Banks weave together Iggy Pop, David Bowie, Buddy Holly, Motörhead, Howling Wolf and Blind Willie Johnson which Kandhari insists simply reflects his favourite songs, but it’s clear Banks has curated an eccentric playlist that amplifies the Uma’s insane situation. It’s ferociously fun filmmaking; Kandhari is a director to watch.

And it demands a wine as funky and zany as Kandhari’s mind: Casa Belfi Rosso Frizzante is a sparkling red wine made from the Raboso grape in Veneto, Italy – a region as lush and colourful as Uma’s Mumbai. It has notes of violets, cherries, red berries and spice with a subtle spritz and bolshy tannins, while its scrumptious ruby colour mimics the oozing blood of Uma’s poor passerine snacks. Enjoy with fatty cured meats like salami, Parma ham and spicy chorizo and get feral.

Sister Midnight is out in cinemas now. Case Belfi Rosso Bio Fizzante (£20.60) is available from Monty Wines.