It is a must watch film, a once in the lifetime kind of work that should be supported by film lovers and experienced on the big screen.

From the storytelling point of view, the end of Labour of Love is a frustrating and critical misstep because it takes a gorgeously promising film and turns it into a disappointment. Still, despite this, Labour of Love is memorable, mostly for its sensitive cinematography, but also because Sengupta was brave to trust his camera, actors and soundscape to tell a story. Labour of Love is quintessentially arty, but this time around, it’s not a bad thing.

Labour Of Love is one of the most visually and aurally striking films in recent years, but you have to wonder whether there’s enough going on within scenes to justify all that it chooses to leave out. The film makes it clear that there’s a recession going on, but we don’t know how this is affecting our couple—whether they’re both working because they have to pay the bills, or if that’s the way they prefer it.

Through cross cuts, the cyclical nature of the narrative expresses itself. You don’t really need to be physically present to express your love. Here it come through the washing and cooking that one does for the other and in between both of them yearn for that meeting that happens at the end of the day. Or is it at the start of the new one! Sengupta has given those moments a dreamy treatment but even in that reverie the couple doesn’t lose touch with the ground. Have the pressures of job turned them mechanical in their romance? Oh! Not quite. It is as tender as the first kiss. Go check!