Dekha (which means, 'to see'),
directed by prominent Bengali filmmaker Goutam Ghose, is a nuanced, sensitively
handled and competently made film dealing with interrelationships between
individuals craving for emotional and spiritual fulfillment and companionship. At
the heart of the film lies the complex personality of Shashibhushan Sanyal
(Soumitra Chatterjee), an ageing and deeply lonely man. He was once a talented
poet, noted for his angry and Leftist verses, but with the loss of his eyesight
he has chosen a life of anonymity and seclusion, and lives in his huge, but
dilapidated ancestral home. His existence is interwoven with two women – Sarama
(Debashree Roy), a single mother who stays in his house with her young son, and
the memories of his former wife (Rupa Ganguly) who had left him on account of
his philandering ways; things get further complicated with the entry of Reema
(Indrani Haldar), a smart and uninhibited young admirer of the ageing poet. The
best part of the story laid in Shashibhushan’s understated relationship with
the equally lonely Sarama, and his quiet yet internally turbulent existence in
his inert environment, accompanied with his loyal secretary (Paran Bandopadhyay)
and hounded by a local property dealer. Some of the subplots in the film,
especially the one with the blind refugee could have been avoided; further, the
fantasies and flashbacks were, I felt, the weakest sections of the film. Ghose
nevertheless managed to evoke an excellent sense of sight and sound, and engaging
mood and atmosphere, to complement the blind poet’s existence, memories and
acquaintances, as also the strong sexual undercurrents. Chatterjee and Roy gave
stunning performances, while the others too were noteworthy at the least.
Director: Goutam Ghose
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama
Language: Bengali
Country: India
Clint Eastwood attained iconic status for his
laconic ‘Man with No Name’ persona in Sergio Leone’s legendary Spaghetti
Westerns, viz. the Dollars Trilogy
(especially The Good, the Bad & the Ugly). No wonder traits of the character abound in the protagonist of the
fine but underrated The Outlaw Josey
Wales (the brilliant deconstructionist Western Unforgiven aside, possibly Eastwood’s best directorial venture). Set
just after the Civil War, the film begins with the titular Josey Wales (played with
deadpan élan by Eastwood himself) as a helpless witness to the brutal massacre
of his family and home. With his chance for peace shattered forever, the
scarred and laconic Wales begins a singularly single-minded and near-psychotic
journey for revenge and retribution, reminiscent of the Ford masterpiece The Searchers. Ironically, he also
becomes a hunted by the same person he’s hunting for on account of his refusal
to surrender before the Union soldiers when his fellow (and unwitting) Confederate
soldiers do so. As his life turns to one of constantly being on the move in
order to stay alive, he experiences carnage and brutality on one side, and
friendship and love with the unlikeliest of people on the other. Despite the
film’s violent content, intense tone and a general sense of amorality and
anarchy dominating the protagonist’s actions, the film also abounds in moments
of warmth, humour and humanism; most notably, Wales is always guided by a
strong sense of right and wrong, even if they’re morally questionable. The
script’s dry wit, fine photography and a number of good supporting turns
further added to the low-key, well-made film.
Director: Clint Eastwood
Genre: Western/Revisionist Western/Revenge Film
Language: English
Country: US
Sergei Eisenstein’s seminal silent era classic Battleship Potemkin is one of those
chosen few films that film scholars can’t have enough of, and which no cinephile
worth his salt can afford to avoid (at least, not forever) – such is its
iconic and larger-than-life position in the history of the medium’s development.
Though commissioned by the Soviet Union government, it managed to expand beyond
the propagandist confines of an agitprop on account of the role it played in
elevating form to the level of content. This frenetic chronicle of the 1905
revolution remains a case study on Eisenstein’s landmark theories on montage
editing – the legendary Odessa Steps sequence (where Tsar’s soldiers are shown
massacring innocent civilians), in particular, is an icon in itself from that
respect. Though crisply timed at just over an hour, the film is a flurry of
activities. It begins with the growing discontent among the crew of the
eponymous battleship on account of poor food and hygene; and, when confronted in
draconian fashion by their brutish superiors, it takes the form of a
spontaneous and violent mutiny. The sole casualty among the crew becomes a
legend, and the incident goes on to spark outrage and more mutinies, even if
the revolution, in the end, was unsuccessful (albeit, not in hindsight).
For someone not interested in film study or the role of politics in cinema,
this might seem a bit dated, aesthetically “rough”, in-your-face in its ideological
expression, and most notably, bereft of any coherent storytelling. In the end, therefore,
the vitality of this film in today’s context is principally from an
intellectual standpoint.
Director: Sergei Eisenstein
Genre: Drama/Political Drama/Historical Drama/Propaganda Film/Docu-Fiction/Silent Film
Language: Russian
Country: Russia (erstwhile Soviet Union)
The Marriage of Maria Braun, considered as one of R.W. Fassbinder’s greatest works,
was a landmark film in the New German Cinema movement. Interestingly, it shared
many similarities with his magnum opus Berlin Alexanderplatz – nearly same set of actors, and visual design mirroring one
another. The first in his BRD Trilogy
(also comprising of Veronika Voss and
Lola), the luxurious film was a chronicle
of a charismatic, independent-minded woman in post-WWII Germany. She, in
extension, becomes a parallel to the changing fortunes of the country itself –
how the war-ravaged nation renewed its journey towards economic leadership position.
The film begins on a darkly humorous note – the titular Maria Brau (Hanna Schygulla)
getting married with debris flying all around her on account of bombing by the
Allied forces. When Hermann Braun, her soldier husband, is shipped off, she
takes a black American soldier as her lover, who her husband, upon his sudden
return, murders in a fit of rage. With Hermann in jail, her seductive charm
lands her a plum job with a wealthy businessman (Ivan Desny) who, as can be
expected, falls heads over heels with her. Though she becomes his mistress, and
continues to prosper financially on account of her lethal mixture of stunning beauty,
intelligence and guile, she continues to be in love with her imprisoned husband
– and this dichotomy gradually leads her towards seclusion, mental implosion
and tragedy. The melodramatic tone, hyper-stylized form, deliberate pacing and
oftentimes theatrical acting, however, can take one’s attention, to its detriment,
from its thematic core and the superb, delicious central performance by Schygulla.
Director: Rainer Werner Fassbinder
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama
Language: German
Country: Germany
Swedish master Ingmar Bergman was a very
prolific filmmaker. Consequently, a number of his films, despite being very
good, tend to get lost among his more renowned works (which, expectedly, weren’t
few in numbers) – The Magician was a
classic example of such a largely underrated gem by Bergman. The film had a
number of his distinctive touches, apart from the regular set of actors – the austere
look, somber mood, gothic atmosphere through stark B/W photography and
minimalist score, and the strong religious undertones and sexual undercurrents.
Set in 19th century Stockholm, Vogler (Max von Sydow), a mysterious
magician who heads a traveling magic show and is rumored to possess
supernatural powers, is forcefully invited, along with his troupe, to the house
of a civil servant so that Dr. Vergerus (Gunnar Bjornstrand), a skeptic who
believes in science and logic, can call his bluff. And thus begins a
fascinating game of one-upmanship between the two. Among the various characters
populating the proceedings in this chamber drama, two stand out – Vogler’s
sensuous wife (Ingrid Thulin) who dresses as a man during daytime, and Vogler’s
grandmother (Naima Wifstrand) who prepares potions for the magic shows and behaves
like a scary witch. Bergman made excellent use of sight and sound to create a strong
sense of mysticism and occult, thus making it hazy for the audience as to on
which side of the line his allegiance lied – he made his intentions clear only
at the climax of this incredibly tense film, thus showing that
fanaticism and hypocrisy can lie on either side of the afore-mentioned line.
Director: Ingmar Bergman
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama/Spiritual Drama
Language: Swedish
Country: Sweden
