Film Review: My Melbourne (2025) - Australia / India
Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critic Circle of Australia)
I rated it 8.5/10
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A Tapestry of Longing and Belonging, Stitched with Raw Humanity - Melbourne, that jewel of the southern hemisphere, wears its cosmopolitanism like a crown. Yet beneath the vibrant laneways, the aroma of coffee, and the thrum of trams, lies a quieter, more complex city – a place of profound isolation for those caught between worlds. "My Melbourne," a potent Indo-Australian anthology, ventures into these liminal spaces, offering not just a portrait of a city, but four deeply human stories of displacement, resilience, and the aching search for home. It’s a film that earns its tears honestly, weaving a tapestry of belonging that is, by turns, quietly devastating and soaringly triumphant.
Directors Imtiaz Ali, Kabir Khan, Rima Das, and Onir, collaborating with a blend of subcontinental and Australian talent, avoid the anthology pitfall of unevenness. Each segment, while distinct in tone and focus, contributes to a unified emotional core: the experience of the "other." Race, gender, sexuality, and disability are not abstract themes here; they are lived realities, the ground upon which these characters walk, stumble, and sometimes find their footing.
Onir’s "Nandini" sets the stage with a masterclass in repressed emotion. Arka Das delivers a performance of exquisite restraint as Indraneel, a gay man whose carefully constructed life in Melbourne is shattered by the arrival of his traditional father, Mihir (a wonderfully stoic Mouli Ganguly), to perform the final rites for his mother. The air in their shared apartment is thick with unspoken words, grief, and decades of disapproval. This is a story told in glances, in the clink of teacups, in the unbearable weight of silence. Can shared sorrow become a bridge? Onir doesn’t offer easy answers, only the painful, necessary question of acceptance within the rigid structure of family.
Imtiaz Ali (with Arif Ali) crafts "Jules," a tale of unexpected solidarity forged in the crucible of shared displacement. Arushi Sharma is heartbreakingly convincing as Sakshi, a newly arrived Indian bride projecting curated food-blogger perfection while trapped in a marriage of domestic abuse and financial control. Her salvation comes not from predictable sources, but from Jules (a fiercely brilliant Kat Stewart), a sharp-tongued, homeless woman inhabiting the fringes of St Kilda. Their bond, built on mutual recognition as outsiders, transcends cultural chasms. It’s a potent reminder that empathy and agency can blossom in the most barren of soils, a story less about rescue and more about the mutual ignition of self-worth.
Rima Das offers a beacon of sensitivity with "Emma." Ryanna Skye Lawson embodies Emma, a dancer of immense talent living with Usher Syndrome, navigating a world gradually dimming in sight and sound. Das avoids sentimentality, instead focusing on the grinding reality of ableism within Melbourne’s competitive dance scene. Rejection becomes a cruel rhythm Emma must dance to, until she encounters Nathan (Nathan Borg, radiating quiet confidence), a successful deaf dancer. His presence isn’t a magical cure; it’s a revelation. The "emotional hook" here isn't just overcoming barriers, but the radical act of embracing difference as strength, of finding a new, authentic voice when the world insists on silencing yours.
And then comes "Setara." Directed by Kabir Khan, this final segment isn't just the climax; it’s the film’s beating, bleeding, ultimately soaring heart. It earns its reputation as the tear-jerker not through manipulation, but through raw authenticity and the sheer, undeniable power of its young star, Setara Amiri – a real-life Afghan refugee playing a version of her own harrowing journey. Fleeing the Taliban after her mother, a Supreme Court judge, becomes a target, Setara finds herself adrift in Melbourne. Her mother (a performance of profound trauma) is a shell, forbidding Setara from the cricket that was her identity back home, terrified of visibility. Khan balances the weight of refugee trauma – the suspicion, the microaggressions, the suffocating fear – with the undeniable uplift of a classic sports underdog story. Brad Hodge, appearing as her coach, lends grounded support, but this is Setara’s show.
“My Melbourne" is more than the sum of its parts, though "Setara" undoubtedly leaves the deepest imprint. It’s a "soul-telling tribute," as the notes aptly put it. The film occasionally wears its thematic heart a little visibly, and the transition between segments can feel slightly abrupt. But these are minor quibbles against the overwhelming power of its empathy and the uniformly superb performances. It finds beauty in resilience, connection in isolation, and ultimately, a powerful sense of belonging – not just to a city, but to oneself. It reminds us that home is often something we carry within, and sometimes, something we must fiercely claim against the odds. Melbourne has rarely looked so vibrant, nor felt so achingly real. (Neo, 2025)