Before getting into the film, I have to talk a bit about the man behind it, Rahul Sadasivan. I first came across his work back in 2013, when his debut film Red Rain came out. I still remember catching the trailer on YouTube and getting instantly pulled in. There were also some BTS clips floating around then, and just from those, you could sense there was something special happening.
I had read about the strange “red rain” phenomenon that actually happened in Kerala, so naturally, I was super curious to see how that could be turned into a film. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to watch it in theatres, but I somehow managed to get a copy through a friend, and honestly, I was blown away.
For an indie team to pull off something that ambitious back in 2013 was unbelievable. I hadn’t seen anything like it before, not in Malayalam cinema, and not even in Indian cinema at the time. The original score by Josh Spear, the sync sound, the VFX, everything felt way ahead of its time. Even now, if you go back and watch those old behind-the-scenes videos on YouTube, Cick for the Video you’ll see the amount of passion that went into making it. Red Rain wasn’t just a movie; it was a bunch of friends coming together to create something they believed in.
That film made it clear how good Rahul Sadasivan really was. I remember thinking, “This guy’s going places.” But then he just disappeared. No updates, no news, nothing. Almost nine years passed, and out of nowhere, he came back with Bhoothakalam.
And man, what a comeback that was. Bhoothakalam was a proper masterstroke, eerie, emotional, and so well-made. From the sound design to the visuals, everything about it screamed quality. It wasn’t just horror for the sake of it; it lingered with you long after it ended. That movie set a whole new standard for Malayalam horror.
Then came Bramayugam, where Rahul teamed up with none other than Mammootty, and both of them absolutely cooked. The movie was pure magic. It was atmospheric, bold, and chilling. And it showed once again that Rahul isn’t just making horror films; he’s building worlds.
And now, with Dies Irae, Rahul Sadasivan returns yet again and this time, he’s delivered something haunting, layered, and technically brilliant.
Let’s start with the title, Dies Irae. Not something you usually see in a Malayalam film, right? It’s Latin , Ecclesiastical Latin, actually meaning “The Day of Wrath.” The name itself feels mysterious, like a warning. From that alone, you kind of know this isn’t going to be a regular horror movie.
The Story
Dies Irae follows Rohan (Pranav Mohanlal), a young man born into wealth, living with his architect father in a massive mansion. He’s got everything money, parties, friends the whole “rich brat” life. But things start to take a turn when strange, unexplainable events begin to happen around him.
What starts off as mild eeriness slowly turns darker. Then one of his ex-classmates is found dead in a well, and that’s when the story really shifts gears. Rohan starts uncovering secrets about himself, his family, and the house he lives in. The deeper he digs, the stranger it gets and we, as the audience, are right there with him, feeling that unease crawl under our skin.
Fear in the Everyday
What I love about Dies Irae is how it finds horror in the most ordinary things. Rahul doesn’t just throw jump scares at you. He builds tension out of small, simple moments, a gust of wind, the flicker of a light, the faint creak of a floorboard. Even someone running their fingers through their hair suddenly feels eerie.
That’s what makes the film so effective, it’s not about showing you the monster, it’s about making you feel like something’s there. Even when he uses familiar horror elements, a creaking door, a whisper, a shadow, it feels fresh because of how he sets the mood. You can almost feel the air getting heavy, and you find yourself holding your breath without realizing it.
Performances and Craft
Pranav Mohanlal absolutely owns this film. Honestly, this might be his best performance so far. He starts off as this arrogant, spoiled guy, and slowly turns into someone terrified and broken. You can see it in his face the fear isn’t loud or overacted, it’s internal. He carries the whole movie with that quiet intensity.
The supporting cast — Arun Ajikumar, Jaya Kurup, and Jibin Gopinath, all fit perfectly into this dark puzzle. Everyone adds something unique to the story.
Technically, the movie is a treat. Christo Xavier’s music is haunting, and what I loved is how it’s used sparingly. It’s not constant; it appears only where it really matters, almost like it’s part of the silence. And those silences, by the way, are terrifying. Rahul and his team know exactly when to go quiet, and that’s when the fear really hits.
Shehnad Jalal’s cinematography is another highlight, the way he uses light and shadows is brilliant. There’s a sequence just before the interval that’s pure magic: the tension builds so slowly that by the time it peaks, you’re frozen in your seat. You can tell Rahul knows exactly how to play with the audience’s nerves.
More Than Just Scares
While Dies Irae starts off like your typical haunted house story, it slowly turns into something much deeper. By the end, it becomes more of a mystery with a surprisingly emotional payoff. The title Dies Irae, which means “Day of Wrath,” ties in beautifully with the film’s themes of guilt, redemption, and facing your past. It’s not just about scaring you; it makes you feel something once the lights come back on.
Final Thoughts
Produced by Chakravarthy Ramachandra and S. Sashikanth under Night Shift Studios and YNOT Studios, Dies Irae is rated A — and for good reason. It’s not your regular jumpscare fest. It’s a slow-burn psychological horror that pulls you in and refuses to let go.
With Dies Irae, Rahul Sadasivan once again proves that horror isn’t just about monsters and screams it’s about emotion, tension, and atmosphere. He knows how to take the simplest things — a whisper, a flicker of light and turn them into pure dread.
It’s safe to say that Dies Irae is not just one of the best horror films in Malayalam cinema it’s one of those rare movies that makes you scared of silence, wind, and your own reflection.
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