Sivi

In the quiet stretches of Chennai’s East Coast Road, a night out turns into a lingering dread when a young photographer and his girlfriend unintentionally strike a passing woman. The incident leaves them with more than a shaken conscience; an unsettling presence begins to seep into the world they thought they knew, coloring ordinary moments with a faint, chilling echo. The film opens with a palpable sense of isolation, where the sea’s hush and the city’s neon flicker create a backdrop for a story that blends everyday romance with the uncanny.

Krishna, an aspiring photographer with an eye for the mundane, carries his camera like a shield against the strange. Beside him, Sona balances youthful curiosity with quiet determination, documenting campus life while trying to make sense of the odd shadows that appear in images. Their partnership feels both tender and tense, each step forward pulling them deeper into a maze of half‑remembered faces and fleeting sensations. As they attempt to return to normalcy, the atmosphere grows heavier, hinting that the past may have a way of refusing to stay buried.

The mood is one of slow‑burning dread, where every click of a shutter could capture more than light. The coastal setting, with its relentless winds and distant horizon, mirrors the characters’ internal turbulence, while the muted colour palette underscores a feeling of being watched from just beyond the frame. Subtle sounds—a creak, a sigh, a distant lull—heighten the sense that something unseen lingers, waiting to be acknowledged.

Through the lens of their relationship, the story explores how grief, guilt, and curiosity intertwine, prompting the couple to confront questions that they never imagined would surface. The haunting is less a jump‑scare and more an ever‑present whisper, urging them to look beyond the surface of their photographs and, perhaps, into the shadows of their own histories.

Last Updated: October 11, 2025 at 19:44