Orthodox Pry,
Knit as always. “Special
friend “will fool me open
A queer marathi -language romantic drama with the spotted, remaining emotional punctuation unless always the verbal pithiness of a haiku, Rohan Parashuram Kanawade’s narrative debut “Patience“(” Cactus Pears “) takes to earth its gay main person’s existential limbo by taking on a constantly reliable inviting incident: the death of the patriarch, followed by a period of culturally specific grief.
Anand (Bhushaan Manoj), a thirty -year -old soft -spoken call center worker living in Mumbai, has only come out to his parents, not to his large family in his Afäderby in the state of Maharashtra which he returns for a regular ten day of grief. That exception in itself is remarkable. Parental box is Destination for many LGBTQIA+ movie plotAlthough the latest Queer cinema seems to have turned away from the trop. In the South Asian context, and especially in a countryside, agriculture, between India, where older relatives and aunt figures remain eager arbitrators within the Department of Marriage, for a story to begin with the protagonist’s mother, played with disarming transparency of Jayshri Jagtap, in Cahoots with His son to maintain his integrity and defend his choice not to marry, is surprising – and rare.
The powerful mother-son binding is one of two moods of intimacy that Kanawade evokes in “Sabar Bonda”, a film Speckled with Sensuality routes And moments of delayed, barrel -shaped embraces, shot decisive with unpologetic realism or transportation reverie, and framed by film photographer Vikas Urs either in tenders widths or in extreme close -up of faces geometrically arranged on unexpected corners on the screen.
The second binding is one that the story is resolutely builds, between Anand and Balya (a brilliant Suraj Suman), his foreign childhood friend, now a peasant hand and Get Herder who stayed back in the village, which is not out in his family, and has also interrupted Press to get married. The two men are reconnected, when Anand follows Balya and his goats for long lazy days and gets a break from visiting relatives. Together they muse about the reduced number of cactus pear plants (somewhere else known as knit pears) in the region, a bygone loved mango trees, and the general transition of the countryside, while sharing their armor of excuses, some naughty, to remain unmarried.
“Unmarried men” is undoubtedly a new category of marginalization that is explored in the Indian film cannon. In South Asia, it is usually the girl child who represents the burden for his family, whether it is via vice -married, the curse of being a lower throw or the related blessing for education. “Sabar Bonda” is affordable in how it shows that the unique silent pain worn by many queer men who, despite their male privilege, must struggle to remain unmatched (the same gender marriage is illegal in India), not to be infantilized and To realize to realize relationships longer lasting than fast secret sex.
According to the ideology that dominates the world of the film, Anands and Balya’s ILK can best hope to be “Khaas Mitra”, translated as “special friends”, but Kanawade Ting’s term with some anxiety, and manoj embed it with mini trembles jumping off its narrow body Like unpleasant radio waves. The “Khaas Mitra” program is met with curiosity from certain blocks and would be with a safe Pariah status from others. Just as the countryside is cut by domestic flora and female fetuses, which Balya observes in a macabically common way (with reference to high frequencies of female child murder), the dream of a life spent with special friend is a depletion that is converted as a marginal gain by the marginalized.
“Sabar Bonda” does not preach the ideal for a full, happy love life and may not even care about Western aka colonialist ideas about self -actualization. What it does good is to allow glimpses of grief and incomplete in Interstices of the poetic candids. Its most exciting scenes feel like suspended, painting beetles – reminiscent of Haikuen’s stop and slope – although its narrative seams ten days with chronological time.
Sadness, yet there is levity, directness, even eroticism. It is in these situations that you wish the film went longer, or at least switched to and away more smoothly, just as “calls me with your name” may have inspired how Kanawade approaches characterization. Balya, safer in her freelance status, turns on a pillow to peek through Anand and bring about some of his friend’s new doubt about his convicted father’s acceptance of his queerness. It is Balya who perceives how Anand’s delicious unwavering curls long for caress.
A heartbreaking early picture of Anand that shakes on his haunches before the funeral pure is what Balya interprets as an invitation to her friend to relax under the shadow of childhood trees. Balya may be the more active character, but Anand returns to save Balya. Away from curious eyes, these unmarried men exceed the boundaries of special friends: at the moment, they become unlabelled dreamers who roam the pastures.
A challenge that shows up when a movie luxury within its scenes of intimacy follows by introducing the introducing narrative conflicts. Anand apparently had a brother who died a long time ago. He also had a lover in the city who stopped responding to his lyrics when he got married. In most stories, these clashes would form discreet sub -plans. While “Sabar Bonda” succeeds in grafting an overall mourning arch on his protagonist – closed conversation with the opening gripping – it feels strange a bit busy, after too many scenes of curious relative jokes. Like many recent international festival films from Asia and MENA, this film cycled through several labs and co -production markets, so its slightly topsy Turvy identity as a chatter social drama versus queer poetry is not unexpected.
Kanawade’s insured debut centers gay men and defense accept parents in a countryside where grief is more than a short -term assortment of devastating traditional methods and contradictory expectations. The film’s honesty, whether loquacious or laconic, Sears even more in the absence of a point. Its observation ethos is remarkable given that it is quasi-autobiographical.
The filmmakers prepare us by removing the thorns on the cactus pear and slicing opens the fruit over its center. They ask us to remember faces of the men who will bite the meat. Becoming friends with them even, because break from their various grief can disappear quickly in the declines in a constant, dry landscape.
Rating: B.
“Sabar Bonda” premiere at 2025 Sundance Film festival. It is currently seeking US distribution.
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