Dies Irae begins with a body being pulled from a well — the body of Kani, a woman who has died by suicide. Though she appears only briefly, Kani remains the film’s emotional thread from start to finish. Her absence becomes the presence that drives the story forward.
Rohan (Pranav Mohanlal), who shares a murky past with her, attends her funeral and leaves with a keepsake. Soon after, strange occurrences begin in his home — a sleek, modern house filled with glass and light, hardly the setting one expects for horror. What follows is less about the supernatural and more about the shadows within Rohan’s mind: guilt, denial, and the slow erosion of control.
Pranav Mohanlal delivers what could easily be called his career-best performance. His portrayal of Rohan — arrogant yet vulnerable, detached yet tormented — is layered with emotional nuance. In one standout scene where he’s dragged down the stairs and flung across the floor, his physical and emotional surrender are remarkable. Rahul Sadasivan’s writing ensures Rohan feels familiar, his responses echoing the universal stages of denial, resistance, and reluctant acceptance.
Supporting performances by Gibin Gopinath and Jaya Kurup are equally gripping — raw, intense, and terrifying in their realism. To describe them further would risk spoilers, but their embodiment of fear and delusion raises the question: who did it better?
The technical brilliance of Dies Irae lies in how it crafts terror from the ordinary. Cinematographer Shehnad Jalal and sound designer MR Rajakrishnan (along with the sound team, editor Shafique Mohamed Ali, and composer Christo Xavier) create a sensory experience where horror lurks in daylight, in echoes, in silence. Rahul Sadasivan’s direction proves that true fear doesn’t need darkness — it only needs truth.
Emotionally, too, the film delivers. The scenes of apology and redemption carry surprising tenderness within the horror framework. The layers of shared delusion, familial dependency, and creeping insanity blur the line between what’s real and imagined, making Dies Irae as much a psychological study as it is a supernatural thriller.
There are minor flaws — the final act becomes slightly predictable, and a few questions are left unanswered (perhaps intentionally). Yet, the film’s command over tone and tension more than compensates.
Titled after the Latin phrase meaning The Day of Wrath, Dies Irae is not about divine punishment but the wrath we carry within — guilt, grief, and the ghosts they summon.
Rating: ★★★★☆ (4/5)
Verdict: A slow-burning, intelligent horror film that grips you with emotion as much as fear.