Saturday, 22 March 2014
Apur Sansar (The World of Apu) [1959]
Apur Sansar was the masterful concluding chapter in Ray’s vaunted ‘Apu Trilogy’, one of the great achievements in the history of the medium. The subtle tonal shifts across the trilogy was worth noting, from cinematic exuberance in Pather Panchali to profound restraint in Aparajito to world-weary cynicism in Apur Sansar, with coping with personal loss being a common strand in all. Apu, played by Soumitra Chatterjee in his first of 14 feature film collaborations with Ray, is now a young wannabe writer living alone at a rented place in Calcutta. The only person he’s close to is his college buddy Pulu (Swapan Mukherjee) with whom he shares his manuscripts and has good laughs once in a while. So, when Pulu presses Apu to accompany him and attend his cousin sister’s marriage, Apu accepts, oblivious of what fate has in store for him, as he ends up getting married himself with the young and demure Aparna (Sharmila Tagore). Tragedy, however, refuses to leave his company, and when his wife unexpectedly dies during childbirth, it turns out to be one jolt too many for the shocked and distraught Apu, who’s endured personal losses all through his life, and the ensuing meltdown was devastating. The film progressed in an episodic manner despite its linear narrative – the carefree life of the bachelor Apu, the beautifully portrayed quietly blossoming romance between the young couple, and his embracing the life of a vagabond upon her death. His homecoming at the end, therefore, completed the circle for the trilogy, even if symbolically so. And trains here stood as a metaphor for life’s journey, including death. Chatterjee gave a brilliant turn, while Tagore, in her first screen appearance, was also memorable as the young bride.
Director: Satyajit Ray
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama/Urban Drama
Language: Bengali
Country: India
Labels:
1950s,
5 Star Movies,
Drama,
Essential Viewing,
Indian (Bengali) Cinema
Monday, 17 March 2014
Aparajito [The Unvanquished] [1956]
Aparajito, the second chapter in Ray’s decorated human saga ‘Apu Trilogy’, was the most understated of the 3 films. Moreover, it’s easier to watch Pather Panchali and Apur Sansar as standalone films while this distinctly feels as a significant and defining middle segment of a larger picture. This haunting, melancholic and poignant coming-of-age tale explored two powerful themes – mother-son relationship, and the divide between home and the world. It takes off at Benaras where young Apu is residing with his father Harihar (Kanu Banerjee), who works as a priest there, and mother Sarbajaya (Karuna Banerjee). Tragedy strikes soon when Harihar dies, upon which Sarbajaya moves to the family’s ancestral village with her son. Apu isn’t interested in a life of priesthood, and more so when Western education in the school he enrolls in opens the whole universe to him; consequently, it’s a matter of time when he’ll leave home to find his place in the world, and the teenaged Apu (Smaran Ghosal) does that, much to his mother’s silent anguish, when he gets a scholarship to study in Calcutta. The film’s most sublime and heart-wrenching moments were those where subtle gestures and silent images reflected the agony of separation – the mother’s change of expression, from happiness at her son’s elation when given permission to go to Calcutta, to one of deep sadness for the inevitable loneliness, and, most unforgettably, the ailing mother silently staring at the passing trains with the hope to see her son one last time, with trains here symbolizing both moving from home to the world and the futile longing for reunion. Ravi Shankar’s tunes and Subrata Mitra’s camera perfectly complemented the pathos and humanism.
Director: Satyajit Ray
Genre: Drama/Family Drama/Coming-of-Age
Language: Bengali
Country: India
Labels:
1950s,
5 Star Movies,
Drama,
Essential Viewing,
Indian (Bengali) Cinema
Sunday, 16 March 2014
Pather Panchali (Song of the Little Road) [1955]
While working as a graphic designer at Signet Press, Ray had provided illustrations for renowned Bengali author Bibhutibhushan Bannerjee’s semi- autobiographical bildungsroman Pather Panchali; during a trip to London he’d watched, among others, De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves which had strongly affected him; and these, combined with his longstanding cinephilia, motivated him to quit his job and adapt the novel in neo-realist traditions, with hardly enough funding and with nearly everyone involved novices in this line – the rest, as they say, is history. This lyrical, poignant, episodic and humanist rural drama, bursting with exuberance, simple joys and profound tragedies that define life, naturalistic beauty and incredible realism, and the first chapter of his masterful "Apu Trilogy”, marked a defining moment for Indian cinema. It focused on a poor family small Bengal village, comprising of idealistic father Harihar (Kanu Banerjee), a priest and writer, stern mother Sarbajaya (Karuna Banerjee), adolescent daughter Durga (Uma Dasgupta), kid son Apu (Subir Banerjee), and the aged and lovable Indir Thakrun (Chunibala Devi). The film remains as famous for its production history that has become part of pop-culture trivia, as for its iconic sequences and indelible moments – the legendary scene where the wide-eyed Durga and Apu catch sight of a train for the first time, the heartwarming relationship between Indir and Durga, or Durga’s tragic death that suddenly makes Apu grow up by a few years. The family’s fluctuating fortunes were beautifully juxtaposed with nature’s progression, courtesy Subrata Mitra’s fascinating cinematography, and accompanied by Sitar maestro Ravi Shankar’s haunting melodies. Interestingly, trains acted as powerful symbols in the entire trilogy – here, as a metaphor for a child’s wonderment and the land of dreams.
Director: Satyajit Ray
Genre: Drama/Rural Drama/Family Drama
Language: Bengali
Country: India
Labels:
1950s,
5 Star Movies,
Drama,
Essential Viewing,
Indian (Bengali) Cinema
Wednesday, 12 March 2014
Farewell to the Summer Light [1968]
Farewell to the Summer Light, the final entrant and the only one shot in colour in Yoshida’s so-called 6-film “anti-melodrama series”, was a formally challenging but aesthetically pleasing take on romance. All the films belonging to the series comprised of complex and layered relationships brewing between the male lead and his female counterpart, with either of the two obsessively chasing (physically or otherwise) the other, and this was no different; however, tonally this was the lightest of the lot, and psychologically perhaps the least audacious. The way it evoked questions of memory and ephemerality of relationships, with an underlying political consciousness, it reminded me of Resnais, particularly Hiroshima Mon Amour; further, its rambling narrative style, with the protagonists simply conversing nearly all through its length, seemed the prototype for Linklater’s ‘Before Series’, even if, temporally, the latter was compressed into a much shorter timespan. A Japanese scholar (Tadashi Yokouchi) who’s in Europe to locate a church that might provide insights to his research on Japanese civilization, gets acquainted to and falls madly in love with a beautiful and enigmatic Japanese expat (Mariko Okada) who’s been staying in Europe for nearly a decade and is married to an American man. They meet, talk and part multiple times over, over an unspecified timespan, across various locales – both urban and countryside – across the continent. Their growing relationship, sharing of personal thoughts and seemingly digressive philosophizing were counterpointed with their emotional dilemmas, loneliness and past baggage, particular her harrowing memories as a child in Nagasaki. Dazzling photography by a restless camera and an affecting tune accompanied this strangely fascinating journey of theirs.
Director: Yoshishige Yoshida
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama/Romance
Language: Japanese/English
Country: Japan
Labels:
1960s,
4 Star Movies,
Drama,
Japanese Cinema,
Recommended,
Romance
Tuesday, 11 March 2014
Nebraska [2013]
Nebraska is an engaging road movie, and a tender and affectionate father-son tale. Except for the rather stretched and maudlin ending, for most parts Payne succeeded in maintaining a delicate balance between whimsical nature and light humour, on one hand, and sentimentality on the other; traces of Jim Jarmusch were often discernible in this low-key and likeable, albeit slight, serio-comedy. Woody Grant (Bruce Dern), an ageing and retired Montana resident with a fast failing mind, is convinced that he’s won a $1 million lottery and is hell-bent in going to Nebraska, by foot if required, to collect the sum. His sons, however, immediately realize upon reading the letter that it’s nothing more than a sham. But, with Woody impossible to be reasoned with, his younger son David (Will Forte) decides to pamper his unreasonable wish – if not for anything else, just to spend some time with him. Thus, he takes leave from the store he works in, and embarks of the journey. There, they’re joined by Kate (June Squibb), Woody’s cantankerous but loving wife, and Ross (Bob Odenkirk), his well-established elder son, and have a dubious family reunion too. Getting to know of his windfall, his relatives and former acquaintances try to establish shares of their own, thus opening old wounds. And, through all this, David finally gets to know his father. Dern gave a startling and deeply affecting turn as the seemingly gruff, laconic and self-centered man but with a soft soul, while Squibb provided some ribald fun – particularly in the darkly hilarious scene at the graveyard. The B/W photography beautifully captured America’s vast open spaces and road network, and was nicely accompanied by the lilting score.
Director: Alexander Payne
Genre: Drama/Family Comedy/Road Movie
Language: English
Country: US
Labels:
2010s,
3.5 Star Movies,
American Cinema,
Comedy/Satire,
Drama,
Road Movie,
Worth a Look
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