Review by Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Tribeny Rai
Starring: Gaumaya Gurung, Shyama Shree Sherpa, Pashupati Rai, Rahul Mukhia
The Nepali have a phrase, "Manche ko man manche le nai bujhcha." With its rolling consonants, plosive connective and gliding diphthong, the axiom beautifully reflects the emotional philosophy of the inherent sentiment; "only one person can truly understand the heart of another" (doesn't quite have the same musicality in English). It's a perspective which informs Shape of Momo, Tribeny Rai's (co-writing with Kislay Kislay) charming debut family drama. Ostensibly a homecoming narrative where thirty-something Bishnu (Gaumaya Gurung) returns home to her familial Himalayan village disillusioned with city life, Shape of Momo becomes a study of societal expectations as we are introduced to four generations of Nepali women in a culture still beholden to traditional values.
Early in the film, we see a character, via a POV shot, using binoculars from the high Himalayan vantage point where the film is set. The sequence is an early visual metaphor for Rai's film, which closely observes the simple, but crucial interactions between its characters, who the camera seems to simply capture. There is Bishnu's grandmother, her mother who frets that Bishnu is not married, and Bishnu's younger sister, Junu, who is pregnant and, juxtaposing Bishnu's situation, in an unhappy marriage.
A deeply personal film, Gurang's casting was contingent on her facial similarities to the director, while Kislay was recruited to ameliorate the script's initial subjectivity. Rooted in experience, Shape of Momo feels authentic to the culture and locations it represents. With a natural colour pallete of deep browns, sky blues and verdant splashes portraying the mountains and orange groves, as the narrative contrasts the dramatic scenery and cosy interiors Shape of Momo becomes a film to curl up in.
As if tainted by the urban experience, Bishnu's presence causes conflict. In an example of a pressingly modern phenomena, she whips out a phone to record an argument between her mother and citrus farmers behind on payments, threatening the non-plussed grangers that she will "show it to the police" (ambiguity about technology is further supported by Bishnu's family being targeted by a phone scammer: in fairness, it is quite impressive that they still get reception so far up). Her mother's insistence on Bishnu marrying, and her verbal parade of eligible bachelors, causes resistance when she does meet a fella in the village, which leads to a tentative romance in the third act; a relationship which is as much about navigating social expectation as attraction... These plot lines weave in and out of the narrative like, yes, a thread of yak wool in a pashmina: a film more about feeling and warmth than story beats.
The title refers to the steamed dumplings which the characters proudly expound as being a specifically Nepali dish. Tricky, dumplings are. Easy to get wrong. Takes a special skill, an expertise which defines the domestic proficiency of these women. As in the home, the film's heart is located in the kitchen, and within the extended conversations between the female family (a fave bit - the younger sister blows off, blaming it on her pregnancy: an everyday embarrassment which you rarely see in films). Its slow simmer may not be for everyone, but to end with another instructive Nepali phrase; pahad le sikauchha — dhairya bina uchai chhuna sakdaina.
