Films, books and music from around the world reviewed.
It’s a Sunday evening in London and lack of sleep from the night before does nothing to hinder Bishi Bhattacharya’s regal entry into the bar of the National Film Theatre. It would be hard to imagine a young woman more radically elegant than Bishi: a short leather jacket and tailored skirt, impeccable make-up and – on her head – a white quiff rising from her black hair like a question mark.
‘I confuse people,’ Bishi says. ‘No-one can tell where I come from. I like that.’
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