In Invisible Demons , director Rahul Jain crafts a visually arresting and deeply unsettling meditation on pollution in Delhi, the capital of the world’s largest free-market democracy. Clocking in at just 71 minutes, the film feels both concise and, paradoxically, drawn out—a dissonance that left me simultaneously captivated and restless.
The film is unapologetically graphic, using its visceral depiction of pollution to drive its point home. From images of smog-choked skies to trash-strewn rivers, Jain spares no detail in painting a grim portrait of a city suffocating under the weight of its own consumption. The most haunting moments, however, are not just the environmental devastation but the silent, collective complicity of its inhabitants, struggling to breathe in a poisoned world.
While Invisible Demons is undeniably impactful, its pacing falters. Even at just over an hour, the film occasionally drags, with some sequences feeling overly indulgent. The repetition of certain imagery, though powerful at first, began to feel numbing rather than illuminating. Still, this lingering effect might be intentional—a way to mimic the slow suffocation of a crisis that unfolds daily, unnoticed by many.
The film also pulls no punches in its political critique. It's clear that the governing class—both local and global—bears the lion’s share of responsibility. Jain’s lens implicates unchecked industrial growth, reckless policies, and the insidious greed of capitalism. Watching Invisible Demons left me with a palpable sense of despair: nothing short of a global revolution seems capable of halting the slow march toward environmental collapse.
Ultimately, Invisible Demons is a film that demands to be seen, not for its entertainment value, but for its urgent message. It is a sobering call to action—a stark reminder that the destruction of the planet is not a distant threat but a present reality. Despite its imperfections, the film’s raw honesty and unflinching gaze make it a necessary, albeit uncomfortable, watch.
