This framing device is the film’s anchor, and it is made of lead. By filtering Radha-Krishna through a modern man’s therapy-speak (“She has abandonment issues,” he mutters during a rain sequence), the film neuters the divine. Radha is no longer the Mahabhava (the great emotion); she is just a girl with a jealous boyfriend.

Cinematographer Ravi Varman deserves a National Award for shooting water. The Yamuna in this film looks like molten sapphire. The Vasanta (spring) sequence, where every leaf turns gold and red, is a painting come to life. Costume designer Anu Vardhan’s work—the peacock feathers, the blue silk, Radha’s blood-red ghagra—is immaculate.

for Mrunal Thakur’s face when she hears the flute. For the thirty seconds of pure silence in the second half when Radha puts tulsi on Krishna’s foot. For the attempt to bring Jayadeva to the masses.