Aranya Sahay‘s Humans in the Loop is an incisive examination of the confluence of technology and identity, based on the lived experience of its Adivasi protagonist. In a world where machines learn to absorb human biases, she comes to understand, most acutely, that the technology she has undertaken, like tending her children, inherits the discrimination of its labeller. As she laboriously sorts images to train artificial intelligence, she can’t help but question whether the system she creates will only serve to perpetuate the fate she has suffered. This, in turn, reinforces the larger motif of the historical destruction of the indigenous self.
Nehma (Sonal Madhushankar), an Oraon woman, returns to her village in Jharkhand after a failed marriage, struggling to reconnect with her daughter, Dhaanu (Ridhima Singh), care for her toddler, and rebuild her life. Taking a job as a data labeller at an AI centre, she trains machine-learning algorithms, only to realise they replicate the same biases that have long oppressed her community. What begins as a means of survival turns into a troubling confrontation with technology’s role in reinforcing systemic inequities.
Rooted in the quiet, simmering tensions of identity and progress, Humans in the Loop deftly navigates the intersection of tradition and technology, asking whether the future it promises is any less compromised than the past. Sahay employs a lyrical and detailed style that invites the viewer into Nehma’s universe. Her struggle as a single mother, asks whether AI, like children of humans, is truly a blank slate or an unconscious receptacle for deeply ingrained social hierarchies. This is dramatically brought home when Nehma observes in passing how the system constructs beauty in terms of light skin and rejects native flora and fauna as pests. The story shows that AI, controlled by those in power, reinforces hierarchies rather than dismantling them, despite its promises of progress. Just as the cave paintings of the past aided ancestral communities in comprehending and coexisting with their world, the current generation is caught in a fresh iteration of labelling—dictated by algorithms that define and limit reality according to the decisions of those who call the shots. Thus, the porcupine becomes a symbol of fragility and resilience, embodying both vulnerability and defence against the threats of the external world. Throughout its 74-minute runtime, the film delivers not only a searing critique of AI’s ethical dilemmas but also an anguished portrait of a woman caught between nature and technology, past and future. It is this search for meaning that makes Sahay’s debut both critical and resonant in its storytelling.
Beyond the complexities of technology, the film delves into the intricacies of human relationships. Nehma’s attempts to connect with her twelve-year-old daughter Dhaanu introduce an emotional impetus into the narrative, highlighting the evolving perspectives with which each new generation interprets values. Dhaanu, never having been raised within the traditional paradigm, struggles to relate to the beliefs and ethos of Nehma’s world, reflecting the broader struggle of indigenous cultures to preserve their identities in an era of rapid technological expansion. Their conflict, subtly observed, bears witness to the difficult but persistent act of cultural survival in an accelerating modern world. Nehma’s Dhuku marriage, lacking social sanction, is seamlessly woven into the narrative, instigating conflicts at various stages of the film. Through this, the filmmaker confidently balances the political with the personal.
The cinematography of Harshit Saini and Monica Tiwari elegantly juxtaposes the vast, organic landscapes of Jharkhand with the sterile artificiality of the digital world, reinforcing the film’s thematic core. The camera quietly captures the conflict between tradition and modernization, between the natural and the man-made, through shifts in color and composition. Sahay, who co-edited the film with Swarroop Reghu, exercises admirable restraint—with a focus on silences and moments of introspective quiet—that allows the film’s themes to breathe without descending into didacticism. This is further enhanced by Kalhan Raina’s sound design, which crafts an immersive auditory experience that bridges the organic and the artificial. Nehma’s growing discomfort with the way technology replicates human vulnerabilities is subtly reflected in the ambient score, blending natural sounds with electronic distortions.
Sonal Madhushankar delivers a nuanced portrayal of Nehma, capturing her resilience and inner turmoil with subtle precision. Ridhima Singh’s naturalistic turn as Dhaanu highlights the generational divide, adding depth to their strained yet tender bond. Gita Guha, as Alka, embodies the detached pragmatism of the AI centre, reinforcing the film’s thematic conflict.
Humans in the Loop stands out as an exception: a film that critically challenges the biases of systemic society, illuminating its flaws and lingering in the mind long after the credits roll. It heralds the arrival of an independent filmmaker and is well worth seeking out. Humans in the Loop was screened at the 16th edition of the Bengaluru International Film Festival as part of the Indian Cinema Competition, where it won the Best Film and FIPRESCI awards. It will also be screened in the second edition of the upcoming Cinevesture International Film Festival, to be held in Chandigarh from March 20–23, 2025, in the India Unveiled section.
