The saying goes that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Bhaskar Hazarika’s Aamis shows a chilling portrayal which proves that the same can be said for a woman.
The Assamese film, presented by Anurag Kashyap, starts as just another boy-meets-girl, simple love story. One of the gems of Assamese music, Monor Baataribor by Jayanta Hazarika, serves as the film's opening. By placing the song right at the beginning, Hazarika beautifully draws the viewers in to witness the ordinary lives of people living in Guwahati - or so it seems.
We are introduced to Nirmali (Lima Das) and Sumon (Arghadeep Baruah) – both actors who have never acted before. Sumon, a PhD student goes in search of a doctor to treat his extremely ill friend, a vegetarian who ate meat for the first time. It is almost funny (and strange) how this seems like a warning for vegetarians watching it.
During his search, Sumon randomly knocks on Nirmali’s door, a married paediatrician who agrees to treat his friend on her day off. Sharing the same passion for food, Sumon starts introducing Nirmali to different kinds of meat dishes. Their seemingly innocent lunch and dinner dates eventually make Sumon start to obsess over her. For Nirmali, this friendship remains only a way to break the monotony of her joyless married life.
Hazarika shoots the first half of the film making use of bright lights, close-up shots and warmer tones. He skillfully blends all these elements and aligns them with their delicate romance. Almost like the calm before the storm.
As the second half begins, there is a sudden shift to blurry frames and darker tones. Sumon’s fixation with Nirmali starts to get out of hand. Their inability to get intimate leads to a bizarre development as he decides to cook his flesh and serve it to her, convinced that by doing this they will be able to acquire a different kind of intimacy.
Aamis (Meat-eater) stays true to its name, with meat becoming a metaphor for a woman's undefined horrific desires, but presented as a love story. Lima Das’s brilliant performance in the film is a testament to several directors’ belief that non-actors can bring authenticity and innocence to the character like no other.
The way Das portrays Nirmali’s vulnerability and complicated emotions with such ease adds life to the story. We see hints of Nirmali’s “abnormality” in the initial part of the film - during her grocery shopping with a friend where she shows her disdain towards “processed” meat. It feels like Sumon filled a void in her life, fulfilling a desire that even Nirmali was unaware of – until hunger completely took over her mind.
Had the last 20 minutes of the film not happened or happened differently, it would have been an entirely different story. Hazarika seems to ask the question – if being normal is the norm? As Sumon also says, “The definition of normal isn’t universal.” Even though Aamis holds its theme together throughout the film, it starts to abandon its characters by the time it reaches its climax. The beauty of the film lies in its ability to leave so much room for its audience to accept and re-adjust.