Parikrama: a thought-provoking yet flawed look at India’s Narmada River

Parikrama is the latest addition to the vast filmography of Goutam Ghose, an Indian director whose first film, Maa Bhoomi, was released in 1979. Parikrama refers to the clockwise journey around a sacred entity or idol, a religious practice integral to Hindu worship. The Parikrama observed in Ghose’s film is the Narmada Parikrama, a journey around the sacred Narmada River, referred to by several of the film’s characters as “Mother Narmada”.

Mother Narmada is central to the film, which follows fictional Italian film director Alessandro (Marco Leonardi) as he sets out to make a documentary on the Narmada pilgrims. The importance of this historic river to the pilgrims is strongly felt throughout the film, as documentary style shots portray their journey, often accompanied by their enchanting, choral singing. However, the river also spells destruction for many local villages. Due to the huge Sardar Sarovar Dam built by the government, upstream villages that have stood for hundreds of years are becoming submerged. The dam has been subject to controversy ever since its construction began in 1987 and continues to spell disaster for many local villages.

Even when towns are submerged, the same otherworldly operatic score featured elsewhere continues to evoke awe

The devotion to Mother Narmada is felt most keenly in the resistance of locals to being relocated, refusing to leave behind the worshipped river. The river itself is never blamed for the destruction. Even when towns are submerged, the same otherworldly operatic score featured elsewhere continues to evoke awe. Instead, the man-made corruption of something so sacred is the site of blame. One scene in particular features Alessandro infuriated as he looks up at the dam – which looms dauntingly over a riverside city – and tells his son Francesco (Emanuele Esposito) that it is a monster.

As a film about the process of filmmaking, Parikrama also asks interesting questions about where the line is drawn between telling stories of disadvantaged peoples and promoting cultural exchange, and exploiting these people for artistic gain. As an Indian director greatly celebrated in Italy, receiving  the Knighthood of the Star of Italian Solidarity in 2006, Ghose is familiar with the kind of cross-cultural gaze Alessandro engages in. When the crew encounter a young hawker named Lala (Aryan Badkul), who was displaced by flooding, he pounces on the opportunity to use Lala’s tragic tale in his own film. Lala is reluctant to join, occasionally overcome by the trauma his role asks him to relive, and Alessandro’s responses can often come across cold if not outright cruel. He justifies this to Rupa (Chitrangda Singh), another contributor to the film, by saying that he is telling Lala’s story, but whether this is for Lala or Alessandro’s benefit is up for debate. This question of exploitation is especially pertinent in relation to Parikrama’s place in 2025’s UK Asian film festival. The question reaches out to foreign audiences, asking whether we are ourselves engaged in an exploitative gaze at foreign trauma, but never provides an easy answer.

These themes are fascinating ones and create a thought-provoking film. However, they are slightly let down by the film’s flaws. Alessandro and Lala have very little time alone on screen together besides their great initial interaction, which leaves much to be desired for their relationship. This is especially true when considering the parallel the film attempts to draw between Lala and Francesco. Alessandro describes “one without his mother, one without his motherland”,  but Francesco’s absence from most of the film leaves this thread underdeveloped and unsatisfying.

Parikrama meanders from scene to scene much like the river it is about

Another slightly shaky element is the dialogue and performances. The dialogue can be somewhat understood as being lost in translation, but the performances, although far from terrible, still generally fail to really pull the audience in. Perhaps the lack of strong connection scene to scene contributes to this. Parikrama meanders from scene to scene much like the river it is about, and while this does at times create a pleasant, smooth experience, it can sometimes leave different elements feeling disconnected.

Alessandro’s outburst towards the dam provides a good example of this. It is so strong that his coworkers recommend he take a break, but appears slightly randomly rather than feeling like the product of mounting frustration. Another disparate moment is an early scene in which Rupa gazes at photos of her family, missing them dearly. Although this scene could inform her later care for Lala in the face of Alessandro’s exploitation, this too is underdeveloped and ends up feeling random and forgettable. All of this messiness results in an ending that, although providing an interesting commentary of sorts on the film’s question of exploitation, comes across somewhat unsatisfying. These issues may be partially down to the film’s troubled production, with it being halted due to the Covid pandemic. Certain threads may have been intended to be further developed, which would have provided existing scenes more weight, but this is speculation on my part.

While these criticisms do harm the film, they don’t ruin it. Its visual and musical beauty and fluidity pull together the more flawed elements into an experience that remains thought-provoking and ultimately enjoyable, but does leave more to be desired.