Dies Irae (Malayalam)
When left to their own will, painful memories that refuse to die can transform into something more sinister than sorrow. In Dies Irae, writer-director Rahul Sadasivan transforms grief into ghosts—omniscient and vengeful, blurring the thin line between remembering and refusing to let go.
If Rahul’s last film in the genre, Bhramayugam, anchored horror in the circular perpetuation of caste violence, in Dies Irae, he showcases grief as a state of eerie psychological decay. This time, though, the horror is more grotesque.
From the stiffened hand of a corpse that cannot be bent, to jump scares and apparitions that reveal themselves in shadows and sightings, Rahul goes all out with Dies Irae. But beneath the well-executed theatrics of the genre, he also creates characters trapped not just by ghosts, but by the delusion that love, if clung to tightly, can cheat death.
The plot follows Rohan (Pranav Mohanlal), who lives in his architect father’s opulent mansion. Rohan is a regular urban rich brat who seems to care little about anyone. After his ex-classmate is found dead in a well, things begin to change. The repercussions of his apathy catch up to him in a relentless pursuit of revenge.
Rahul uses the entirety of the film’s first half to establish Rohan’s spiral into insomnia and affliction. Wind, trees, light, shadow, the clicking of a hair clip, and even the flutter of curtains become meticulous props that characterise a looming presence in the mansion. This is also the most striking aspect of the director’s craft.
The art department, under Jyothish Shankar, is brilliant. Especially towards the final act of the film, which is reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock’s cult classic horror thriller, Psycho (1960). Jyothish and team ensure that the staging is as believable as it can get, making the supernatural feel human, and the human, unbearably haunted.
Christo Xavier’s soundtrack and Jayadevan Chakkadath's sound design are Dies Irae’s binding forces. Cinematographer Shehnad Jalal, who has been a constant in Rahul’s films, does a slick job.
Pranav Mohanlal appears more comfortable in Rohan’s skin, compared to his previous outings. In moments of terror, his performance gives us a glimpse of versatility.
Gibin Gopinath gives an assured performance as Rohan’s intuitive aide, who gets drawn into his father’s wizardry despite trying to distance himself from that world. Arun Ajikumar, too, establishes himself as a talent to watch out for.
The most memorable performance, though, is of an unusual suspect. Revealing the character would be a spoiler, but it would be a disservice not to mention it, albeit in such cryptic terms.
Dies Irae, in Latin, means ‘day of wrath’, signifying a requiem for the dead when god would summon them on judgement day. By the time the title’s meaning syncs in, the film reminds us that judgement does not always thunder from the heavens. Instead, it seeps quietly through memory, regret, and denial.
(Dies Irae is A-rated, and hence unsuitable for children. It is best enjoyed with a quiet, respectful audience that allows the film’s intensity to speak for itself.)
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.