As a documentary, Rossellini's film suffers from feeling too much like "exotic" India as portrayed through Western eyes, and with rose-tinted glasses on top of it. As a series of short stories, it suffers from being too simple, with characters that are hardly developed and indeed not enough subtitled when they're talking to one another. But oh, the images he captured of this country are simply gorgeous, and the occasional bits of philosophy profound, even if he barely scratched the surface. There's no wonder that this was one of his personal favorites, as it must have been quite an experience to be there. It seems he was doing a little more than admiring the scenery, much to Ingrid Bergman's displeasure, but that's another matter. The film's a hodgepodge, a mixed bag - there is undeniably something here worth seeing, but it's a very scattershot view of India, and not what it could have been. Check out one of Satyajit Ray's films from this period instead.
Review of India: Matri Bhumi
