When No Man’s Land won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film in 2002, it was remembered in India not just for its brilliance, but also for the heartbreak it delivered by edging out Aamir Khan’s Lagaan. But for those who watched Danis Tanovic’s searing anti-war drama, the award felt deserved – its storytelling cut like shrapnel, its final image unforgettable. More than two decades later, a similar emotional jolt resurfaces in Pyre, a quietly powerful film by Vinod Kapri that redefines the standard of his directorial oeuvre.
Premiered at the India Habitat Centre in Delhi, Pyre stands apart from anything Kapri has made before. It’s not just a leap forward for the filmmaker — it’s a milestone in Indian independent cinema. The story, screenplay, music, sound design, and cinematography are all calibrated to an exacting emotional pitch. Much like No Man’s Land ends with a man lying helplessly on a pressure mine, Pyre burns with the smouldering pain of ghost villages left behind in the hill state of Uttarakhand.
At a time when the state is marketed aggressively to tourists and overwhelmed by traffic, Pyre steers clear of postcard images. Instead, it offers a brutal contrast — a near-abandoned village perched high in the mountains, where two elderly residents, Tulsi and Padam Singh, wait in vain for their son to return. Their lives are tethered to a few goats and the hope that memory and habit won’t be the only things left behind. As the film inches toward its reveal — a secret held close by Padam Singh — it layers an almost unbearable tension with raw emotion.
Kapri’s genius here lies in saying so much without loud declarations. The film thrives in its silences, in the pauses between conversations, and in the loneliness that fills every frame. Padam Singh’s stark remark — “We have one month to live and two months to die” — becomes an existential anchor, while the recurring refrain “We are not afraid” rings with tragic irony. The cast, entirely local, delivers performances rich in texture and authenticity, helped in no small part by their effortless dialect. The dialogues are laced with hill wit and melancholy, reminiscent of the linguistic finesse seen in Paan Singh Tomar.
वर्ष 2002 में बेस्ट फ़ॉरेन फ़िल्म कैटेगरी में ऑस्कर जीतने वाली फ़िल्म नो मैन्स लैंड इसलिए याद है क्योंकि उसी श्रेणी में आमिर ख़ान की लगान को भी नामित किया गया था। नो मैन्स लैंड ने ऑस्कर जीतकर कई भारतीयों का दिल तोड़ा लेकिन जब मैंने वह फिल्म देखी तो लगान उसके आसपास भी नहीं थी। एक… https://t.co/aFzaAhJDf7
— Hridayesh Joshi (@hridayeshjoshi) June 14, 2025
The smallest interactions — from Tulsi’s sardonic remark about liquor to the youths consoling Padam — are deeply rooted in Kumaoni culture. The language flows like mountain air, crisp and truthful, proving once again that when cinema listens closely to the soil it stands on, magic happens.
Pyre is already making its way to several film festivals, where it is likely to collect accolades, and deservedly so. But awards aside, it is already a National Award-worthy film in spirit. For some of us, it echoes the emotional weight and cinematic craftsmanship of No Man’s Land — not in genre, but in impact.
Here’s hoping it finds a platform soon for wider release. Until then, Vinod Kapri and his team deserve all the praise for gifting us a film that doesn’t just narrate a story — it leaves behind ash, silence, and a lingering burn.