Orata Shree

Orata Shree’s “Kora” (2025) is honestly a trip—like, if you’ve ever felt like your life was spinning out but somehow you’re just rolling with it, this film gets it. It’s set in a world that’s not super far from our own, but there’s this undercurrent of weirdness, like someone left the TV on in another room and you can’t quite figure out what’s going on. The main character, Kora, is stuck between what she wants and what everyone keeps telling her she should be. Family drama? Oh, it’s there—a tangled mess of expectations, secrets, and those tense dinner conversations where you can almost feel the air getting sucked out of the room. There’s a love story, but not like the sappy, everything-works-out kind. More like—two broken people trying to figure out if their jagged edges can fit together without cutting each other to bits. And the city is almost its own character, with neon lights, rain-soaked streets, and all these faces that you see for a second and then never again. Kora keeps running into people from her past, and every encounter just messes with her head a little more. By the end, you’re not sure if she’s found herself or just gotten lost in a different way, but honestly, that’s kind of the point. Life’s messy, right? And “Kora” leans all the way into that chaos, never pretending there are easy answers.