Padam Singh

Padam Singh’s “Pyre” (2024) is not your average flick—it digs deep, right into the ugly guts of small-town life in India. The story orbits around a young couple who, honestly, just want to be together. Sounds simple, right? Yeah, not in their world. They come from different castes, and in their village, that’s not just frowned upon—it’s straight-up dangerous. So, they elope. Classic move. But running away doesn’t mean freedom; they’re basically being hunted, not just by their families, but by the entire twisted system that’s supposed to keep the peace. The film sweats with tension, every scene pulsing with that sick feeling you get when you know something bad’s about to happen but can’t do a thing to stop it. You can almost smell the dust and fear. The director doesn’t sugarcoat anything—this is raw, often brutal stuff. The love story is tender but fragile, always on the verge of getting crushed under the weight of old prejudices and family "honor." And man, the performances? They hurt. You’ll probably find yourself mad at half the characters, wishing they’d just let people live. “Pyre” doesn’t let you off easy. It’s an unflinching look at love, violence, and the cost of challenging the rules in a place where tradition can be lethal. By the end, you’re left rattled—no neat resolutions, just the echo of everything that’s still broken.