Aranya Sahay belongs to a new generation of filmmakers interrogating the invisible systems that structure contemporary life. His film Humans in the Loop turns to the hidden human labour sustaining artificial intelligence (AI) and digital infrastructures, raising difficult questions about technology, exploitation, and the cost of “seamless” modernity.
The film has already established a remarkable presence on the international festival circuit. It premiered at the MAMI Mumbai Film Festival, where it drew early attention for its bold engagement with AI, labour, and indigenous life. It was subsequently screened at the International Film Festival of Kerala, the Indian Film Festival of Los Angeles, and the New York Indian Film Festival, taking its urgent concerns to global audiences. The film won the Best Debut Film honour at the Indian Film Festival of Los Angeles and received the Grand Jury Award for Best Feature Film at the Bengaluru International Film Festival. Its festival journey has positioned it as one of the most compelling recent independent Indian films engaging with the politics of technology, labour, ecology, and ethics.
Ashutosh Kumar Thakur recently spoke with Aranya Sahay about the film, its politics, and the anxieties that shape his cinematic practice.
Ashutosh Kumar Thakur (AKT): Humans in the Loop brings into focus the human labour behind automated systems. What first led you to this subject?
Aranya Sahay (AS): It was Karishma Mehrotra’s article (‘Human Touch’) that first led me to this subject. Almost instantly, I knew there was an incredible premise here. But in filmmaking, it is often said that a great premise is also a great curse. A film can stagnate at the level of just being a spotlight. The big challenge is to figure out a narrative for this premise. This was a journey of a year to crack the narrative.
While grappling with the idea, I realised that the job of data labelling mirrors the act of parents. The act of repeatedly tagging a chair and table, for instance, is very similar to the act of parenting. When our children are growing up, we teach them how to differentiate between colours and objects and then we force our morality onto our children.
When I realised that job is like parenting, the immediate question arose, “Could AI be seen as a child?” With this question, the narrative came to light.
AKT: The film engages with AI not as abstraction but as lived reality. How did you ground a technical concept in everyday human experience?
AS: Data labelling as a job works with very everyday realities. Their modules are centred on agriculture, autonomous cars and vehicles, crowd management.
I think basing it on the work that leads to machine learning kept it away from abstraction.
AKT: Would you describe the film as a critique of technological systems, or an attempt to make them more legible?
AS: I feel the film is an attempt at reclaiming technology (especially AI) from the hands of a few tech companies and placing it in the hands of the human collective.
AI, especially, is not just another technology. It is a tectonic shift in the way civilisation itself will be structured. Soon, it will dictate the direction of our economy and polity. Can we leave the direction that AI takes in the hands of just a few AI companies?
AKT: The invisibility of digital labour is central to the film. Why do you think these workers remain outside mainstream narratives?
AS: Partly because the systems they support are designed to appear seamless. Visibility disrupts that illusion. There is also a historical pattern where certain forms of labour, especially those that are repetitive, fragmented, or geographically distant are excluded from dominant narratives of progress.
In the case of digital labour, there is an additional layer: the work is often mediated through platforms that abstract the worker entirely. What remains visible is the output, not the process, and certainly not the person.
AKT: Did your research reveal anything that changed your own understanding of automation and so-called “smart” systems?
AS: What changed for me was the extent to which these systems are contingent rather than autonomous. They rely on constant human intervention — correction, labeling, moderation. The idea of intelligence here is not singular; it is distributed across many invisible actors.
Before working on this film, I used to think that algorithms learn on their own. I think this is certainly still a dominant understanding of AI.
Another realisation is about accountability as well. If these systems are collective in their making, their consequences are also shared, why isn’t their ownership collective?
AKT: In the context of countries like India, how do you see the relationship between technological growth and labour precarity evolving?
AS: There is a paradox. Technological growth is often framed as a pathway to opportunity, and in many ways it is. But it also reorganises labour into more fragmented and less secure forms.
In countries like India, where informal labour structures already exist, digital systems can both absorb and intensify precarity. The question is not whether technology will expand, but whether the frameworks around labour, dignity, and protection will evolve alongside it.
AKT: What kind of research and fieldwork went into building the world of the film?
AS: The research for the film was formal, observational, and deeply anecdotal. Having previously researched for other filmmakers, and coming from a Social Sciences background, I’ve always found research to be one of the most rewarding parts of the process, second only, perhaps, to editing.
I usually begin with understanding the nuts and bolts, the formal structures. How many tribes are there? What does the economic and political landscape look like? At this stage, conversations with academics, journalists, and policymakers become especially valuable.
From there, I move into the anecdotal. I’ve found that speaking to artists often reveals what more formal research cannot. I had the privilege of getting to know Biju Toppo, an ethnographic filmmaker, early on in this journey. Through him, I was introduced to a number of artists whose perspectives became integral to my understanding.
One of the most meaningful parts of the research for Humans in the Loop was engaging with a dozen Adivasi women. Their intrinsic understanding of indigenous philosophy became foundational to the film.
Alongside this, conversations with data labelers and AI practitioners were central grounding the film in the lived realities of those working within these systems.
AKT: The film has a restrained visual language. What guided your aesthetic choices?
AS: As a filmmaker, the most important factor that determines any aesthetic choice is the state of mind of the characters.
A film that traverses between the inner world of Nehma and her childhood needed to have the language of a dream or a faint memory. Flamboyance in shot taking just did not feel right in this process. Maybe the restraint arises from that.
AKT: How did you direct performances to capture the psychological weight of repetitive, often invisible work?
AS: We focused less on performance in a conventional sense and more on presence. The idea was to create an environment where actors could inhabit routines rather than act out emotions.
Before the shoot, we rehearsed the scenes consistently till each scene, each beat became second nature. And then, on the day of the shoot — one was free to improvise.
Repetition plays a key role here. Over time, it creates its own psychological landscape—fatigue, detachment, moments of reflection. The film tries to stay attentive to those subtle shifts.
AKT: Down To Earth often looks at the environmental costs of development. Do you see a connection between digital infrastructures and ecological impact in your work?
AS: Yes, very much. Digital systems are often perceived as immaterial, but they are deeply tied to extractive processes. The infrastructure that supports them — servers, devices, data centres — relies on rare earth minerals that are mined, often from indigenous regions, with significant ecological and social consequences. It is important that we begin to critically examine these hidden material foundations of technology.
At the same time, I think it is equally important to shift the conversation toward what is being overlooked. Indigenous communities are not only affected by these processes; they also hold ecological knowledge systems that offer alternative ways of thinking about sustainability, resource use, and stewardship.
Contemporary discussions around technology and the environment often remain confined to efficiency or mitigation. But if we are to think seriously about the future, these conversations need to expand to include indigenous knowledge — not as something peripheral, but as central to how we imagine more responsible technological systems.
AKT: Technology is often seen as “clean” or immaterial. Does your film attempt to challenge that perception?
AS: It does. The intention was not to make a declarative statement but to create a sense of friction with that idea. Through an indigenous look at life and care, the film extends the same care and dignity to AI systems. If Nehma wasn’t an Adivasi woman, she wouldn’t see AI as alive and deserving of appropriate care in its upbringing.
AKT: How do you view the space for independent, issue-based cinema in India today?
AS: I think cinema needs to engage an audience first and foremost. Basing it on contemporary issues gives it the necessary grounding but the value artistic work lies in personal interpretation and engagement through the personal interpretation.
AKT: What kind of conversations do you hope the film provokes, especially among those working within tech ecosystems?
AS: I hope it encourages a more grounded conversation about responsibility. Not just in terms of outcomes, but in terms of the processes that lead to those outcomes.
If the film can create even a moment of pause — where someone begins to think about the human systems behind the technical ones — that would be meaningful.
AKT: Have there been any responses from audiences that surprised you?
AS. Many surprises. One that stood out to me the most was a man coming up to me and saying Dhaanu shouldn’t have forgiven Nehma so easily. I thought there was something exceptionally powerful in that regard.
AKT: At a time when technology increasingly mediates life, what role do you think cinema can play?
AS: Cinema has the ability to slow things down. At a moment when technology accelerates experience and compresses attention, cinema can create space for reflection.
It can make visible what is otherwise abstract, and in doing so, allow us to engage with these systems not just intellectually, but emotionally and ethically.
Ashutosh Kumar Thakur is a Bangalore-based management professional, literary critic, curator, and bilingual writer. He can be reached at Ashutoshbthakur@gmail.com