How far will you go for a video? This is a surface-level question that Srinidhi Bengaluru aims to answer through the sharp 2-hour runtime of Video. The question doesn’t invite as much interest as the format does. A group of five Kannadiga vloggers set out on a nervy road trip from urban Bengaluru to a haunted school in Odisha’s Padmapur — in search of fame and fresh off receiving the coveted Silver Play from YouTube for racking up 1 million subscribers. But what plays out next isn’t chapters from your usual haunted-house handbook. As the Tharle Gang test the limits of how far they are willing to go for a video to take off, we’re asked to reckon with this world through the dizzyingly compelling found-footage format. The result is unnervingly effective. At least in its form.
The best part of Video is the way it sets up its world. The Tharle Gang — Chan, Chinni, Madhura, OG and Bharatha — is a largely relatable group of misfits who rack up subscribers for the way they see their city. They speak “city” in a way familiar to many YouTubers, finding their place among Bengaluru’s locals and migrants as they navigate the city and their lives within it through the compelling language of internet pop culture. Even if the film doesn’t have much time to establish these characters, their friendship is instantly identifiable. They laugh and fight out their differences both on camera and off — with the latter adding an edge to the film's inherent moodiness.
And then comes the found-footage aspect. We see their life in fragments through real-world-like recordings, getting a bird’s-eye view of their turbulent trip to Odisha through drones, handheld cameras, slanted smartphone frames, AI glasses and the occasional CCTV footage. The Blair Witch Project influence is obviously unavoidable, but the use of the technique to capture the colour and texture of India’s vlogging space feels inventive. The cinematic technique obviously brings with it bundles of tension — something that the film maximises to offset its reduced runtime. Even when characters aren’t always effective, the dialogue remains conversational. When the YouTubers persuade a demonologist to embellish his explanation for their subscribers, zhuzhing up electromagnetic field detectors, he’s curt. “I will explain it the way I do.” Video, too, follows a fairly straightforward approach to tell us a cautionary tale, by tapping into sharp jump cuts, ambient tension and millennial desperation —elements pointing towards a delicious horror film. But do the ideas translate?
The second act is where Video enters a literal and figurative slippery slope. As the gang finally reach their destination, and we’re ready for the paranormal activity to be dialled up to 100, the effect is surprisingly glassy. Conceptual and imaginative horror is what makes found footage horrors like Rec and The Blair Witch Project exciting. Modern and traditional masters of horror have often proved there is nothing deadlier than imagination as a tool to evoke dread. This isn’t a school of thought that Video lives by. The monsters aren’t left for us to imagine, and when we do see them on screen, the tension deflates.
The horror is literal, relying heavily on shock value without ever quite landing a gut punch. Themes of cannibalism and the occult are explored but don't get the groundwork or background to make the tension palpable. The technique works overtime to overcome these limitations, leaving behind an uneven but immensely ambitious project that is chock full of passion.