Subash Dutta

Subash Dutta’s “Pyre” (2024) drops you in the thick of rural India, where traditions run deep and secrets burn hotter than the midday sun. The story follows a young couple, newly married and full of impossible hope, who end up in a village stuck in its own ways. You can practically feel the dust and tension as they struggle to build a life together, but let’s be real—nobody around them is making it easy. The families, the neighbors, even the land itself seems to have opinions about who belongs and who doesn’t. Their love story? Yeah, it’s sweet, but it’s also on the chopping block, threatened by caste divisions and old-school taboos that refuse to die quietly. You get this sense that the past is always lurking, just waiting to flare up and swallow them whole. It’s not some fairy tale—think more along the lines of “Romeo and Juliet”, but with less poetry and more sweat. As things spiral, you see how social pressure pushes people to do wild, sometimes brutal things just to keep up appearances. The village isn’t just a backdrop—it’s a living, breathing character, stubborn and relentless. Every decision the couple makes feels huge, like it could set off an avalanche. “Pyre” doesn’t pull punches. It’s raw, sometimes uncomfortable, and totally gripping. By the end, you’re left wrestling with the same questions the characters face—about love, loyalty, and whether breaking free is even possible when the world’s set against you.