Farewell

From writer-director Soham Kundu, the phenomenal new drama Farewell depicts two people at different stages in their lives - one dealing with a breakup, one confronting premarital fears - while suffering also with the weight of past pains. Its success comes in its performances and direction; but primarily, audiences will be drawn to the excellent cinematography.

These days, it's not so unique to opt for the 4:3 aspect ratio - its boxy, vintage look frequently compensating for a lack of real aesthetic; but what this picture demonstrates within every frame is an innate sense of framing and depth. It's a visually outstanding piece, and utilises 4:3 to perfection, with certain moments of virtuosic cinematography leaving you breathless. Every composition feels meaningful and unique, and additionally its use of focus allows these images to hit with maximum impact. The use of oblique angles, for one, demonstrates the director's and cinematographer's understanding of how camera placement evokes a sense of imbalance; and flat compositions similarly draws one's eye to empty parts of the frame, emphasising, for example, the car in front of the natural backdrop... complex and pleasing whilst expressing a disconnect. This kind of instinctual yet precise decision-making comes with a great deal of thought and experience - it's not as simple as pointing the camera at your subject, but the beautiful thing is that this piece makes it look easy. Also important to mention is the colour grade which is truly exceptional; rich and dynamic, evolving appropriately with the changing of the colourful skyline.

If there's any issue to be found, it arguably falls under narrative, semiotics and structure - but even this is easily debated. I'm referring specifically to the way in which the pasts of these characters are subtly, gently conveyed to us. It's admirable, certainly, that events are represented more through implicit words and gestures as opposed to didactic explanations and conclusions - therefore creating a sense that we're only scratching the emotional surfaces of these individuals' inner-troubles. This will inevitably work for some and not for others. For instance, dramatic details are often built out visually, such as when a deceptively simple closeup of Kush's arm on the steering wheel reveals upsetting evidence of self-harm. A moment such as this takes one off guard, particularly when the filmmaker is alright leaving it without deeper acknowledgement. Viewers fully on board with the story's wavelength will appreciate these tragic suggestions, as if a portrait of a complex person at a specific, uncertain point in their life; however, those already apprehensive about the film's slightly elliptical presentation may find that brief allusions to self-harm thematically clash with the other ideas at play. But then again, perhaps that's the point... These are people suppressing great amounts of pain until they just can't any longer, and - like Afan and his breakdown towards the film's end - the work itself discards the veneer of silent contemplation and filmic restraint for explosive and dynamic sequences of emotional distress. These contrasts are lovely, and work on a level of fluctuating moods - argumentative tensions followed by a sunset relief - so it's even more fascinating that we don't learn all that much about these characters, in a more specific sense.

To surmise, it's a radiant, touching movie. We're left with very little to complain about after watching a picture as well-made as this. The film's a huge achievement, so I highly recommend readers go and watch this gorgeous drama.