Some films sweep you off your feet with grandeur and spectacle, and then there are films like I Want to Talk, which quietly settle in your chest and refuse to leave. Today, as I walked out of the theater, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this is the kind of movie people rarely talk about.
It’s not a film that demands your tears or begs for your applause. It simply exists. And that’s its beauty—and its sadness. In its quiet, understated way, it’s real in a manner that cuts through the artifice of reel life.
I didn’t cry—not because it didn’t hit home, but because it didn’t need to. The pain lingered in the quiet moments, the spaces between words, and in the eyes of a man confronting the inevitability of his death. His words, “Pain is the promise that life fulfills,” stayed with me long after the screen faded to black.
On a chilly Kolkata evening, I entered the theater without much expectation, but I left with a story that clung to my thoughts. I Want to Talk unfolds the life of Arjun Sen, an IIT graduate, an MBA, and a man who had carved out a slice of the American Dream. He is a sharp mind honed in the art of manipulation, thriving in his professional space, seemingly invincible. Yet, the story takes a cruel turn. A shocking diagnosis leaves him with only a hundred days to live, abruptly turning his world on its head.
The narrative doesn’t dwell on pity but focuses on Arjun’s journey of reckoning, rediscovery, and reconnection. It’s not just about a man battling against time—it’s about a father attempting to mend the broken bond with his young daughter. After a painful separation from his wife, Arjun has been distant from his child.
The diagnosis acts as a brutal wake-up call, forcing him to address what truly matters.
The father-daughter relationship becomes the emotional core of the film. Her innocent, piercing questions—“What is dying?”—and her tender hopes—“Will you dance at my wedding?”—are heart-wrenching. These are the kind of questions no parent ever wants to answer, but life offers no escape. The exchanges between them feel raw, honest, and painfully real, as though you’re eavesdropping on moments too personal to share.
Arjun, despite his failing health, becomes a figure of resilience and resolve.
There are moments he falters, where his vulnerabilities come to the surface, but he refuses to crumble. His determination to remain a steady presence in his daughter’s life, even as his time runs out, inspires belief in the strength of the human spirit.
The film’s unflinching honesty about death is its greatest strength. It doesn’t romanticize or dramatize the process but portrays it with stark realism. As Arjun undergoes numerous surgeries, each potentially his last, the audience is left reflecting on life’s fragility. You are forced to confront the inevitability of loss, but at the same time, you’re reminded of the beauty in living fully, even in the face of despair.
What sets I Want to Talk apart is its humor. Amid the somber themes, there are moments of levity that feel like a breath of fresh air.
The humor isn’t forced; it flows naturally, showcasing life’s absurdities even in the darkest times. It’s this balance—between grief and laughter, loss and hope—that makes the film so impactful.
The cinematography is subtle yet powerful, with lingering shots that let emotions simmer and breathe. The soundtrack, understated and poignant, perfectly complements the film’s tone, enhancing its ability to touch the soul without overwhelming it.
As I watched Arjun navigate his darkest hour, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own life. The film isn’t just a story about death; it’s a reminder to cherish life. It urges us to hold on, to find humor in chaos, to mend what’s broken, and to embrace life in all its fidgety, groggy, and unsettling ways.
In the end, I Want to Talk doesn’t just make you think about mortality—it leaves you questioning how you want to live. It’s a quiet masterpiece, one that refuses to leave your heart, long after you’ve left the theater.
By Dr Kabita Choudhury
Dr Kabita is a medical professional, Microbiologist, passionate academician, and researcher. She enjoys reading, writing, observing, and learning, whenever she is not immersed in her work. She can be reached at drkabitachoudhurya@gmail.com.
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