Listen to this article:

In Gurvinder Singh’s Rehmat, no guest is turned away. Whether it’s an alleged militant, or an out-of-state traveller, everyone is offered the respectful hospitality one associates with Punjab. Singh’s film opens with a prologue text noting the chapters of violence Punjab has witnessed during its many socio-political upheavals, and has left its scars.

Especially the partition of 1947, and the insurgency of the 1980s. It might have contributed to the PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) for an entire generation, and yet it’s this dichotomy that seems to be at the heart of Singh’s film: a state full of traumatised civilians don’t let bitterness get in the way to greet an unannounced guest. It’s probably not a coincidence that the title of Singh’s film translates to ‘grace’.

In Rehmat, for a third time in the last 12 months (after Gustaakh Ishq and Main Vaapas Aaunga) Naseeruddin Shah is staring at death. Maybe it’s coincidence, or it appears as though 76-year-old Shah is being drawn by characters grappling with their mortality.

He plays Rashid, a Manchester-returned businessman, in search of his pre-partition home. Rashid features primarily at the end of Singh’s triptych, adapted from three short stories by author Ajeet Cour.

Playing in competition of the ongoing Locarno 2026, Rehmat might be Singh’s most centered film in his directorial career spanning a decade and a half. There’s a stillness here that is instantly familiar from his earlier........

© The Wire