In Tanmay Chowdhary’s Leela, the titular character never once makes a physical appearance. Set in a placid, seaside town in Goa, India, the short film instead follows two friends on a day out as they saunter through the woods, and spend time at the beach. But Leela, the faceless character, forms the centre of these friends’ universe for the duration of the film.
Leela, it seems, is a young woman who has recently vanished from their small town, leaving no trace. The two friends are divided on their feelings towards both Leela and her disappearance. They wonder if she has left the town for the city, looking for a better life. One is a well-wisher, and hopes Leela isn’t dead; the other has a lot of unspoken reservations about Leela’s character, and thinks she left for the city to “find more bitches like herself”.
It’s a fascinating exercise in framing; with the titular character absent and unable to defend herself, the conversations about her act more as a window into the two characters we do see. The tone that gradually sets in is one of terrible helplessness. A sinister quality begins to weave into proceedings that is further exacerbated by certain scenes. This sense of stagnancy makes the town’s women desperate enough to go to extreme ends.
Leela, meanwhile, was one of those women who was always outspoken, and more progressive than her peers — almost guaranteed to leave for the city at some point. Yet, there is no telling if she actually made it; she might even be dead. As the duo goes about their day out, each change in scenario comes with a thorny quip from the ill-wishing friend, directed towards Leela. But the events that follow lead the viewer to much intrigue about the psychology that gave rise to these comments — from envy to possibly even projection to escape a quietly horrendous reality.
Despite all those devious comments, the next day finds these two characters in a deeply somber mood. Leela leaves the audience reflecting on their inner state at this moment — a grief that is a mixed reaction of Leela’s sudden disappearance, and their renewed awareness of their own continued entrapment.
The 28th edition of the Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival runs in-person and online November 13-24. For tickets, scheduling, and other details about this year’s programming, visit the festival’s website.
