“Angh” Review: Toronto’s Platform Award Winner Is a Lush Lament for an Indian Tribe in the 1960s
Rio’s debut feature “Angh” took the top prize at this year’s Toronto Film Festival, which qualifies it for the Best International Feature Oscar. The film expands on Rio’s 2021 short film and uses 16mm film to set a story about identity and change in 1960s Nagaland, the eastern Indian state on the Burmese border.
The Chief and the American Preacher
The tale follows Anghba, portrayed by Anghlong Konyak, a chieftain his people call “old chief”. When his wife dies, only Amao, portrayed by Sobino Rengma, remains of the Konyak tribe. Amao is a boy who never speaks, but his desire to learn about modern, western clothing and the Baptist community near his home endangers his people’s way of life.
The hunt opens the story, with Anghba in pursuit of a wild boar, bow and arrow in hand, crossing a riverbank. A raft drifts down the river, carrying a former tribesman along with a jolly American preacher played by Douglas Henshall. The chieftain’s kin gather around the preacher, much to his dismay, turning the arrival of colonial missionaries into a strange, almost alien absurdity.
Ritual, Grief and the 16mm Texture
The movie looks at practices once branded as savage without cruelty, honoring the departed through decapitation. This positions viewers beside the Konyaks instead of against them, turning the usual colonial cinematic attitude on its head, much like the work of Filipino master Lav Diaz. The film’s performers are largely tribal non-actors, but Anghlong Konyak dominates the screen, a man whose determination against change coexists with his lingering sorrow for his fading way of life.
The story of post-independent India lives far from the film’s peripheries. Rio’s concerns are hyper-focused on a local tale of transformation and thorny resilience. To a viewer from a westernized society, Anghba may come off as obstinate, which feels entirely in tune with the film’s intent. As the story moves further into dreams and visions, his protectiveness over language, attire, ritual and memory grows more pronounced.
The 16mm Atmosphere
Director and cinematographer Adam Pietkiewicz build an inviting 16mm setting together. The celluloid texture acts as a living cloth, with dirt, scratches and punctures that might as well be insects zipping across the screen. The film feels genuinely alive and at one with nature, a harmony that gradually gets broken as the story moves toward fiery and devastating conclusions.
“Angh,” in this way, feels truly alive, and at one with nature — a harmony that’s slowly interrupted as the story unfolds, en route to fiery and devastating conclusions.
The Cost of Progress
The film pushes against the default framing of everyday life, presenting a new world for us to think through via its soulful reflections. It forces us to reckon with the price of our own unassuming norms. It mourns what has been lost, a quiet memorial that beats with righteous fury at how easily entire ways of life slip away — or rather, how we permit them to be taken in the name of progress.
The Verdict
“Angh” is a remarkable piece of cinema. Its gentle approach to rituals once called barbaric, its refusal of the usual colonial gaze, and its textured celluloid texture all land with force. The story of its chief protecting his fading tribe is deeply moving without ever turning didactic. The Oscar qualification is deserved.
| Event | Prize |
|---|---|
| Toronto Film Festival | Platform prize won |
| Oscar eligibility | Qualified for Best International Feature |
This movie earns a second look, and it earns a place on the Oscar shortlist worth considering.
Source material: “‘Angh’ Review: Toronto’s Platform Award Winner Is a Lush Lament for an Indian Tribe in the 1960s,” Variety.
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