A Night of Knowing Nothing

This is going to sound like prejudice - and maybe it is - but I never called a documentary a masterpiece. Until today.

Payal Kapadia takes a concept seemingly so simple - a few lost letters for a lost love - to give us one of the most necessary, radical, and artistically superior documents I've ever seen.

If All We Imagine as Light is my favorite film of 2024, then A Night of Knowing Nothing is my favorite documentary ever. Several times I cried, several times I had to take a deep breath and exhale forcefully, several times I felt my heartbeat quicken.

It is revolting, it is sad, it is terrifying (so terrifying that I often found myself wondering what Kapadia could do with a horror film). There is also a bit of hope. Kapadia has an activist and radical side that resembles some student political movements from past decades. I must confess that I have lost that optimism. Right now, I truly believe that hatred has won, and when hatred triumphs over hope, there is no reason to be optimistic. I keep fighting, yes, but I feel that the time to build a different, fairer, more peaceful, more equal world is behind us. We had that opportunity in history, and we squandered it.

Technically, what is achieved in terms of sound, image, and how everything is articulated so dynamically, so beautifully, and so hauntingly is absolutely brilliant. Bhumisuta Das's narration is also impeccable, perfect, making us feel everything behind those words.

I don't have much more to say. This film should be more than mandatory in any arts and politics course around the world. Incredible.

A dream like exploration of the political and social changes occurring in India.

The rise of their right wing brings about a return to racism and classism and the violent repression of those who would speak up.

Not what I expected. Unlike anything I have seen before.

Payal Kapadia's A Night of Knowing Nothing is a visually stunning and emotionally powerful film that masterfully balances protest with poetry.

Through the story of L and her letters to her estranged lover, the film becomes a deeply personal exploration of love, caste, and the brutal realities of social injustice. What makes this film exceptional is how it weaves intimate human stories with broader political protests, creating a rare and striking harmony between personal heartbreak and collective resistance.

The film captures the tension and raw energy of student activism in India, yet Kapadia's direction ensures the brutal scenes never feel overly romanticized.

Instead, the protest moments are grounded in the emotional truth of the characters, making you feel a deep connection to their struggles.

Critics have praised the film's cinematography, particularly its black-and-white visuals that elevate both the beauty and intensity of the narrative.

The use of archival footage and the juxtaposition of reality with memory only adds to its haunting and immersive experience.

Kapadia's film reminds us that cinema isn't dying-it's evolving. With young filmmakers like her, the art form is being pushed to new boundaries, creating films that resonate deeply and challenge us to engage with the world.

This film is a testament to that, making you feel the urge to stand up and protest alongside its characters, all while appreciating its undeniable artistic brilliance.