In Bishal Dutta’s first feature film, a teenager races against time to save an old friend from ancient demonic forces.
The terrifying ordeal in the high school girls’ locker room sets the stage for “It Lives Inside,” the debut feature film by Bishal Dutta, which explores a small town under siege by an ancient spirit.
Samidha (Megan Suri) and Tamira (Mohana Krishnan) face each other in the dimly lit corridor, exchanging intense glances. These two teenagers, united by their culture and shared history, have different reputations at their small, predominantly white suburban high school.
Samidha, now going by Sam, is trying to bridge the gap between her Indian heritage and the American culture represented by her classmates.
She’d rather hang out around a campfire with her crush (Gage Marsh) than assist her mother (Neeru Bajwa) with puja preparations. Tamira, on the other hand, is a more mysterious figure, seemingly the opposite of Sam.
Dressed in plain and ill-fitting clothing, she stands out and attracts stares, whispers, and jokes. As she walks through the halls, it’s as if she’s haunted by an invisible force.
Dutta, who co-wrote “It Lives Inside” with Ashish Mehta, uses the characters of Sam, Tamira, and a malevolent force to delve into the isolation experienced by immigrants.
While not the first to use horror elements to explore these themes, Dutta personalizes his narrative by focusing on the tensions within Sam and Tamira’s friendship.
Initially, the details matter. The relationship between Sam and Tamira flirts with clichés but is ultimately saved by the specificity of the film’s first act and the performances of Suri (known for “Missing” and “Never Have I Ever”) and Krishnan (known for “I Am Frankie”).
Tamira’s voice is raspy and quiet when she greets Sam, her posture ragged, with her eyes peering from behind disheveled hair, and her lips chapped.
She explains to Sam that she needs help because a demonic spirit, residing in the mason jar she carries, is ruining her life. Sam reacts with initial concern but eventually turns to anger.
She wants to help but insists that Tamira must tell the truth. Monsters aren’t real, ghosts don’t exist, and ancient spirits are the stuff of fiction.
Rage appears on Sam’s face. Suri eases her furrowed brow and shapes her lips into a disappointed smile. She hisses at Tamira, “You’re such a damn psycho,” and proceeds to shatter the glass jar, releasing the spirit and causing Tamira to vanish.
“It Lives Inside” follows Sam’s frantic search for her friend. She embarks on a quest for clues, asking her mother vague questions and relying on her fragmented memory. The film engages viewers with jump scares and Wesley Hughes’ gripping score. The stakes are high, and we believe them at the outset.
However, somewhere along Sam’s journey, the spell is broken. Dutta’s film loses its momentum as it takes increasingly conventional routes and abandons the bolder promises of its premise.
Themes of immigrant dislocation, the feeling of being caught between two worlds, and the idea of America as a land of opportunity are explored in a cursory manner. Vague dialogue filled with broad sentiments makes the characters feel more like symbols than fully developed individuals.
Further insights into Sam and Tamira’s friendship or additional scenes between Sam and her mother (who becomes more significant as her daughter gets closer to solving the mystery) could have added essential depth to crucial moments.
Moreover, specificity could have strengthened the film’s horror elements. The distance from the characters sometimes hinders “It Lives Inside” from delivering genuine fright.
Some of the most chilling moments occur in the first act, as we become acquainted with Sam and Tamira. Understanding their shared history, sensing their estrangement, and acknowledging their ongoing sense of alienation add a haunting dimension to the film.
When Dutta shifts the focus away from their friendship to explore an underdeveloped love story, for example, it divides our attention and weakens the narrative. “It Lives Inside” may not provide complete satisfaction, but its strength lies in introducing Sam and Tamira’s relationship and connecting it to Hindu lore.
This connection is refreshingly bold and raises more intriguing questions about the isolating experience of assimilation.