Last man standing | Theja Rio's 'Angh'

How filmmaker Theja Rio, along with a stellar team gathered from all over the world, etches a portrait of an old world dying and a new one struggling to be born in Angh, a father-son drama set in 1960s Nagaland

ISSUE DATE: Oct 5, 2026

On September 20, filmmaker Theja Rio put Nagaland on the world map. His feature debut, Angh, about an indigenous village chief defiantly holding on to his faith as locals embrace Christianity and modern ways, was named the best film in the Platform section of the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF). “I come from a small town in [the] Northeast of India where dreams don’t often come true,” said Rio, 31, in his speech. “I dedicate the award to the people back home.... This is just the beginning.” That a film in Konyak, a language unfamiliar to most Indians, shot on 16mm film in the little-known village of Ghaspani, between Kohima and Dimapur, did this made it all the more impressive.

The award came with an additional distinction. Angh became the first film from Nagaland to be eligible to join the contenders for the Best International Feature Film category at the Oscars. Cameron Bailey, CEO of TIFF, was effusive about the 1960s drama, calling it a “magnificent...singular piece of work”, the kind of which the festival has “never had the privilege to present before”. The jury, which picked it over 11 other non-English language features, singled Angh out for its “deeply resonant portrait of a world” and Rio’s “vision and audacity”.

THE ROAD TO ANGH

Born and raised in Kohima, Rio began by writing rap before turning to short stories. It was while studying for a bachelor’s in English literature at Delhi University that he’d tell film producer Nancy Nisa Beso, who had known him since age seven, about his aspiration to be a screenwriter. Beso was encouraging but honest about the ambition’s harsh realities. “The industry is welcoming, but it’s difficult to find your space and voice,” says Beso, whose credits include independent films like The Fable and Waiting. “A career in filmmaking entails failures and unpredictability and requires belief.” Luckily, Rio had plenty of it.

In 2015, he would be selected for a screenwriting programme in Sicily. Four years later, he made a short film iteration of Angh. Its warm reception at film festivals reinforced his idea of expanding it into a feature. It would land him a seat for a master’s in direction at the National Film and Television School (NFTS) in the UK. He and Beso would collaborate for the first time on the short, Ade (On a Sunday), about two friends who skip school one day and have a thorny run-in with the outside world, which would travel to renowned festivals like the Film Festival of Rotterdam. Says Beso, “He has a voice of his own, a spine, and he is methodical about how he wants to tell his story. His voice and conviction have grown stronger.”

BACK TO HIS ROOTS

Angh comes from Rio’s own awakening. Much like the village chief’s conflicted teenage son in the film, he recalls once feeling distant from his own culture and roots. “We didn’t see ourselves represented in mainstream media. I never thought our stories were meant for the big screen,” he says. Exposure to world cinema and his stint at the NFTS strengthened Rio’s resolve. “The farther you drift from home, the more attached you feel to your roots,” he says. “It was a journey before I started writing stories rooted in Naga culture.” He turned to the Konyak people, a tribe largely inhabiting the forested hills of Mon district, bordering the India-Myanmar border; some of its warrior men were known for their tattooed faces. He is today “more conscious” about the stories he wants to tell. “I really enjoy making films about things I am conflicted about rather than things I am sure about,” he adds.

That uncertainty, though, doesn’t reflect in his filmmaking, for Angh has the stamp of an assured artist. Rio handles the gradual erasure of a village’s sociocultural identity with restraint and nuance, refusing to vilify the Christian missionaries or judge any of its Konyak characters. Instead, he touches on betrayal, anxiety, complicity and human urges to be curious as well as cling to the past. He does so deftly by centring the narrative on the deteriorating relationship between a domineering father and his verbally challenged son. With sparse dialogue, Rio lets the tattooed face of his protagonist build tension alongside the silence and ambient sounds of the forest. “I tried my best to remain as neutral as possible because I wanted all my characters and conflicts to have depth,” says Rio. “By doing that, you don’t become a propaganda film or one with an agenda. There is a sense of discovery about different perspectives.”

TO BUILD A VILLAGE

The making of Angh is worthy of a documentary in itself. With the local Naga film industry still nascent, Rio and his casting director, Bendang Walling, had their work cut out to find actors. Few would turn up for auditions and the talent pool got smaller when it came to finding Konyak actors in Mon district. Rio ultimately turned to YouTube to find stand-up comedians and, with Anghlong, found his village chief. “He was younger than what I wanted, but his presence, timing, deadpan delivery and body language hooked me immediately,” says Rio. For the part of his son, Rio turned to teenager Sobino Rengma, who had lived close to his house. “He is an extremely shy and quiet boy, but very intelligent,” says Rio. “He is instinctive and listens very well.” In fact, barring Scottish actor Douglas Henshall, who plays the ‘white ghost’ a.k.a. the story’s American Baptist missionary, none of the cast had set foot on a film set before.

To nail the visual palette, Rio roped in two of his batchmates from NFTS. Portuguese production designer Margarida Caetano Dias visited Nagaland twice, going to villages and houses in Mon district. Since today’s villages are too gentrified to stand in for the film’s early 1960s setting, she built the set of an abandoned village with the help of the Konyak community. “It was wonderful to see them collect the material from the forest and practise rituals,” says Rio.

NFTS alumna cinematographer Adam Pietkiewicz came on board to shoot the movie on 16mm film, which was ideal to recreate the texture of archival footage and pictures of American missionaries and the Konyak people from the early 20th century. Apart from his research, Rio felt it imperative to involve the Konyak Literature Board and Konyak Union, right from script development. “These cultures are so nuanced and complex that reading isn’t enough,” adds Rio. “We’d have been clueless without their involvement.”

As invites from international film festivals pour in and the Oscar campaign gathers speed, Nancy and Theja are eagerly looking forward to the release in India and, more so, to share the film with people in Nagaland. With only two cinemas, both in Dimapur, the duo knows their mission is herculean, but well worth it. “It will be back to the old days of a man on the bicycle with a projector and sound system travelling to towns and villages,” Nancy says. “It is important for us to share the film with the community by taking it to every nook and corner of Nagaland.”

More than anything, Nancy hopes that Theja on the world stage propels others to pursue their dream. Says Nancy, “I’d tell filmmakers, don’t be conscious or scared of where you come from. You could be from a small state like ours, but you can reach a global platform.” Sometimes, it may even take you to the Oscars.

- Ends