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(Trigger warning: Mentions of sexual abuse. Reader discretion advised.)
One night at a police station. One family, one accused, two police officers, and two witnesses. There’s not a lot happening on the surface in filmmaker Reema Maya’s 28-minute short Nocturnal Burger. But there’s also JUST.SO.MUCH.HAPPENING.
Nocturnal Burger is Maya’s second short film and is currently in the running for the 96th Academy Awards for the Best Live Action Short Film.
The film follows Simi (played by Millo Sunka) and 13-year-old Minu (played by Bebo Madiwal) over the course of a single night.
Simi brings Minu and a 30-year-old school teacher, Sanu, to the police station after she sees him forcing himself upon the minor in an auto-rickshaw.
The film does not tell a story that hasn’t been said before. It tells a story that has been repeated so often and yet falls on deaf ears every single time – that of child sexual abuse, of trauma, and of the collective trauma of gender minorities.
However, the film is also aware that a subject so delicate and sensitive doesn’t need to be necessarily shown or talked about to throw light on it.
There’s no graphic or gruesome details thrown at the audience, just a glaring stare from Minu that pierces right through your soul.
The film makes you feel like the night is never-ending as Minu sits in the police station, holding her sibling.
On the other hand, as Simi tries to navigate through seeking justice, her own memories haunt her. Subtly though starkly, Maya hints at what Simi has gone through too.
Her attempt at doing what is right bears the cost of her escapism, reminding her that there are some wounds that time alone can’t heal.
But to her (and the filmmaker’s credit), Simi is also aware that the privilege her class accords her, is not something that can protect Minu too.
Back in the police station, the investigation is handled by a male inspector (played by Shrikant Yadav) and a female constable (played by Trupti Khamkar).
As they go through the events of the night in order to file a complaint, the “cracks” of misogyny and patriarchy seep through the remarks that Inspector Shinde makes.
There’s a moment in the film when the camera moves towards a group of trans women sitting on a bench in the station. They don’t say anything. We don’t know anything about them.
But that feeling of solidarity is present, because that of collective trauma is too.
There’s a lot that the film explores – abuse, casual misogyny and sexism, patriarchy, casual racism, apathy in our systems and people, the lack of female agency, and just how public our exploitation often is.
But in the film still, the road to justice seems aimless. So you’re not taken aback by the ending, just disarmed. You feel disturbed because the film is utterly honest. And that is exactly why it shines.
(The film premiered at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year. It has since been screened at multiple festivals and won over 30 awards, including the Best International Short Special Mention at Palm Springs International Shortfest and the Film Critics Guild Gender Sensitivity Award at Dharamshala International Film Festival.)
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