QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM TALLINN

There are few signs of civilisation on the verdant hills of the Himalaya. A few old houses dot the mountains, yet there is not road in sight. The clouds in the sky and the towering trees tussle with each other for the horizon. This is where Padam (Padam Singh) and Tulsi (Heera Devi) have spent their entire lives. They can barely calculate their ages, leaving locals to do the maths for them. Padam remembers that he was born when WW2 started, while his wife came into this world just as the Americans dropped the atomic bombs in Japan. They got married when she was just 10 years old. This means that Padam is probably in his 80s, while Tulsi is likely in her 70s, and their matrimony has lasted a good 65 years so far.

With old age come physical challenges. Their health is visibly deteriorating. Padam continues to drink despite his liver problems, while Tulsi continues to smoke despite a persistent cough. The end is nigh, they are both convinced. Two funeral pyres (this is a culture that burns their dead on a wooden pile) outside the front door of their large and yet precarious wooden house serve as a constant reminder of their mortality. Tulsi often henpecks his husband, who reacts with a mixture of humour and disregard. The two adorable protagonists – played with devotion by Singh and Devi – possess a certain joie-de-vivre. They find pleasure in each other’s company, and in the small pleasures of life. After all, it’s not over ’till it’s over.

Their connection to the outside world is very limited. There is no television, and no electricity. An old radio does little other than inform them of the widespread destruction that the latest storms caused in India. It is questionable whether they have ever seen money: their goats remain their main currency. The postman occasionally brings a letter. The latest correspondence is from their only child Haryia. The man left 30 years earlier and never returned. He apologises for the prolonged absence, while also promising that he will visit his ailing parents in the upcoming days. The announcement infuses Padam and Tulsi’s existence with a renewed sense of happiness.

Meanwhile, the neighbouring family – the only other people left in the community – reveals that they are about to move into town within a month, following the footsteps of their children. The bombshell news hit them almost like a death sentence. The departure means that Padam and Tulsi would be entirely on their own. So their desire to be reunited with Haryia becomes their only lifeline.

The prospect of ending up entirely alone after one of them dies is terrifying. Who’d want to face their twilight in absolute isolation? In order to avoid such fate, Padam proposes that they jump off the cliff overlooking a majestic waterfall together. Tulsi dismisses his idea with a scoff: “I’m just going to cook dinner”. She too eventually realises their isolation, and that the possibility of facing twilight in absolute isolation is real. The old woman notes: “we’re lost in our own house and our own hills”, in one of the film’s most beautiful and yet devastating scenes.

Entirely filmed on location, Pyre successfully captures rural life as it is. The strength of the cinematography relies on its simplicity. Some of the most tragic developments take place during a major storm – a regular occurrence in this environment. This is not CGI. The rain is palpably real. The downpours could bring about their demise at any minute. The thunders also represent a danger: the radio announces that lightning strike claimed someone’s life. Water and fire – be that from the clouds or from the funeral pyre – are the two most important elements of nature: they control both life and death.

The mountains hold the key to the film’s most important takeaway. Their function is double-edged: they provide our protagonists with physical and emotional nurture, while also imprisoning them. Tulsi describes them as her “children”, and as such she should never abandon them. She must also accept that these kids will outlive their parents. A shocking revelation in the final 10 minutes reveals yet another layer of complexity to this extraordinary tale of hope, resilience and unwavering allegiance.

Pyre just premiered in the Official Competition of the 28th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival.