Charu Tiwari

Charu Tiwari’s “Pyre” (2024) isn’t your average flick that you throw on a lazy Sunday. This one, it’s got some real teeth. The story basically chucks you into the suffocating heat of a rural Indian village, where tradition hangs heavy like a wet wool blanket. There’s this couple, freshly married, who’ve got everything stacked against them—especially the guy, who’s from a lower caste. You’d think love would be enough, but nah, not here. The girl’s family is hellbent on “honor,” whatever that means to them, and they’re not above some seriously dark stuff to keep their “reputation” squeaky clean. The film doesn’t bother sugarcoating the ugly side of things. You get this creeping dread as you watch the newlyweds try to carve out a life together, always looking over their shoulders. It’s gritty, it’s raw, and at times, it’s honestly brutal to watch. You can almost feel the tension in the air—neighbors gossiping, parents scheming, the whole village watching like hungry vultures. Nobody’s really rooting for these two except, well, themselves. What really hits you is how “Pyre” shines a harsh spotlight on caste, honor, and the way old beliefs can poison everything. It’s not some fairy tale, that’s for sure—more like a gut punch wrapped in a love story. The ending? Let’s just say subtlety isn’t its strong suit, and you’re probably gonna sit there for a minute trying to process it all. Impossible to walk away untouched.