The rupturing of Nella’s naivete, her pained, needy return to the viciousness of the digital hustle even after being scorched—CTRL just skims these points of transition. She awakens to the unavoidable cost of modern life entrenched in technology, separating herself from the bind of a digital life only for a while. Motwane plumbs the melancholy of her utter disconnect from those around her if technology isn’t a conduit. This is realised with terrific subtlety in the final stretch, which only makes you wish the rest of CTRL had it as well. Once we step outside and away from the screen, Pratik Shah’s cinematography, flecked in dour blue and yellow palettes, immediately grips the loss and isolation of the character. But it’s too little, too late.
