The philosophy of communitarianism lies at the heart of Pradip Kurbah’s Ha Lyngkha Bneng (The Elysian Field), a film shaped by a deep belief in the human soul that ardently yearns for the cause of humanity. Taking the invisible thread that binds all human lives and experiences together as its core narrative, the film traverses a spectrum of emotions to depict the lives of the last remaining residents of a small, remote Khasi village in Meghalaya.
The year is 2047, and the village has only a single bus connecting it to the outside world. Surrounded largely by the shadows of abandonment, the remaining residents—Livingstone, Miss Helen, Maia, Friday, Complete and Promise—share a ritualistic way of life that binds their presence, as well as their memories, to the village. This is because the place is no longer what it once was—the structures remain, but the homes have long since faded away.
Reality here is far removed from any notion of progress, even as the radio news bulletins suggest otherwise. The stories are alive, but the people who once lived them are long gone. Now, it is only time that accompanies the lonesome lives of the villagers. In one striking scene, the male residents are seen digging their own graves so that, when the time comes, there will be no shortage of hands to complete the task.
The filmmaking in Ha Lyngkha Bneng is built on absurdities and the interplay of opposites. These contrasts are deliberately ingrained into the fabric of the narrative, making them feel intrinsically tied to the uncertain existence of the villagers. The film is set in the future, yet it remains deeply rooted in memories of the past. There is an unspoken sorrow beneath its occasional touches of gentle humour. Light and darkness, presence and absence, joy and sorrow, and most importantly, life and death coexist as inescapable truths within the village.
Moreover, frequent power outages, predestined funerals, shared laughter and small celebrations all intertwine, embracing one another as the inhabitants navigate both grief and joy with a quiet acceptance of their communitarian spirit. In this sense, Kurbah’s vision suggests that such contrasts form the elemental texture of life itself—inseparable from the endurance and intimacy of those who remain behind.
As a filmmaker, Kurbah employs Pradip Daimary’s lens to capture the painterly stillness of green fields and distant, lonely hills. This visual approach evolves into a philosophical representation of the human urge to connect—much like fields merging with hills along the horizon. The film also observes the passage of time through changing seasons, subtly reflecting shifts in human existence. A particularly memorable moment occurs when Maia gifts yellow caps to the other residents as a Christmas present.
In contrast to the beauty of the exterior landscapes, the interiors of the houses appear cracked and stripped of their essence. They evoke the feeling of returning to a childhood home long after the grandparents who once filled it with warmth have passed away. Only the walls remain, silently speaking of their absence. In this way, the film bridges the emotional distance between its characters and the audience, creating a connection that feels immediate, clear and at times deeply personal.
This sense of the ‘personal’ works effectively because, even as the narrative stretches across the vast landscapes of Meghalaya, the film draws viewers into an intimate, tactile experience of life. It is a small film, yet its visual scope extends far beyond the landscapes it portrays—at times feeling like an entire world in itself.
Beneath its philosophical layers, the film also examines the absurdities of daily human existence. As seen, even a little alcohol can go a long way, while the repeated fixing of the electric transformer becomes an ironic marker of routine and monotony. Meanwhile, the presence of the choir foreshadows death, and the bus emerges as a symbolic space suspended between the tangible and the metaphysical—as though the village itself exists on a threshold between worlds.
Kurbah’s political commentary, though not overly subtle, effectively highlights the neglect and uneven development of the modern world. The villagers’ struggle for basic amenities stands in stark contrast to broader narratives of progress. Yet, this critique never overshadows the deeply humane core of the story.
For me, the only drawback lies in the film’s runtime. While undeniably immersive and spiritually contemplative, the narrative might have benefited from a sharper and more immediate structure. Unlike Kurbah’s earlier film Iewduh, where secondary plotlines added dramatic tension, Ha Lyngkha Bneng remains intentionally minimalist. Nevertheless, even in its sprawling lyricism, the film proves to be a deeply rewarding experience—reminding viewers that love, presence, memory and solidarity remain the truest measures of human life, even in worlds on the verge of fading.
Following a special screening on February 28 at Kelvin Gold Cinema Hall in Guwahati, Assam, the film was screened from March 6 to 11 at the Soso Tham Auditorium in Shillong, Meghalaya. These hometown screenings followed a successful international run, including a triumphant showing at the 47th Moscow International Film Festival (2025), where it won the Golden St. George for Best Film, along with awards for Best Director and the NETPAC Award for Best Asian Film.
The film also made a strong impression at the 31st Kolkata International Film Festival, the 30th International Film Festival of Kerala (2025), and the 24th Pune International Film Festival (2026). The Shillong screenings have received enthusiastic responses from both audiences and critics.
The film stars Richard Kharpuri, Albert Mawrie, Baia Marbaniang, Helena Duia, Jeetesh Sharma and Merlvin Mukhim. It is shot by Pradip Daimary and edited by Badeimon Kharshiing, with sound by Saptak Sarkar, Sumir Dewri and Sayantan Ghosh. Written by Paulami Duttagupta in collaboration with Pradip Kurbah, the film is co-produced by Nancy Nisa Beso, Gordon Kharsyiemiong and Wallam Lyngba, with Arpana Kurbah, Marjina Kurbah and Jova Kurbah as producers. It is supported by Hello Meghalaya and Goenka Enterprises.