Seemabaddha (Company Limited) [1971]

 Seemabaddha strikingly contrasted Pratidwandi and Jana Aranya, the two films which bracketed it in Satyajit Ray’s stunning ‘Calcutta Trilogy’. The latter films evoked angst, disillusionment and desolation through college-educated young men struggling to land white-collar jobs. This, instead, delivered a coolly sardonic glimpse into a world of privilege, entitlement, contemptuous indifference towards those not belonging to their exclusive world (from the faceless working-class to those battling to dismantle the system), and corporate rat race, where everyone is outwardly cordial while slyly pushing their selfish interests. Adapted from Shankar’s compelling novel, Shyamalendu (Barun Chanda) is affable, charming, intelligent and articulate; he’s also fervidly ambitious and casually amoral, thereby making him a captivating anti-hero, who we root for even when he’s making ethical transgressions. His choices are revealed through the uncorrupted perspectives of his beautiful sister-in-law (Sharmila Tagore), who’s come over for a few days to his posh company-paid flat. She’s held him in high esteem since long – he was once a brilliant student with scholarly bent – and is amazed by his material successes. As the fast-rising executive in a prestigious British firm, gunning for a big promotion, he’s faced with an acute hurdle when an export consignment is found defective; he – along with a self-serving labour officer (Ajoy Banerjee) – concocts a wicked ploy to turn this challenge into an opportunity, to use “corporate-speak”. In a delicious choice, Ray left it until the midway mark to introduce the central conflict, exquisitely shaping the context until then, which made this dark morality tale’s unravelling that much more biting. The climactic stairway ascension, shot in real-time, was as physically exhausting as stingingly allegorical, in this sharply enacted and incisive critique of consumerist ideals.

p.s. This is a revisit. My earlier review can be found here.

Director: Satyajit Ray

Genre: Drama/Black Comedy/Urban Drama

Language: Bengali

Country: India

Pratidwandi (The Adversary) [1970]

 Satyajit Ray had touched upon political themes on multiple occasions – from capital, corruption, crooked godmen and religious dogmatism to class, feudalism, despotism and war, along with stirring feminist expressions – without necessarily being a political filmmaker. With Pratidwandi – the bravura opening salvo in his fabulous ‘Calcutta Trilogy’ (it was followed by Seemabaddha and Jana Aranya) – he blazingly became one. Ray made the metropolis a complex and dazzling canvas, battle-ground and adversary in this edgy trilogy; the political, social and economic turbulence that’d rocked the city during the late-1960s and 70s, with egalitarian and progressive ideals in collision with employment and material aspirations, informed all three films, and in particular this electrifying tour de force that remains Ray’s most radical expression and amongst his greatest masterworks. Adapted from Sunil Ganguly’s similarly blistering novel, it begins with jolting immediacy as we see Siddhartha (in a powerhouse debut performance by Dhritiman Chatterjee) – shot in photo-negative – confronting his father’s funeral pyre. He’s forced to quit medical studies, and – sandwiched between an unforgettable interview near the beginning and a violent outburst of his pent-up fury towards the end – struggles to land a job. Meanwhile, his male ego is hurt as his sister (Krishna Bose) is the family’s sole breadwinner; his younger brother, displaying decisiveness that he lacks, has joined the Naxalite cause; his friendship with a cynical friend (Kalyan Chatterjee) is counterpointed with his growing intimacy with the lovely Keya (Jayashree Roy); and he’s faced with profound dilemma between political participation vis-à-vis staying on the sidelines as a troubled observer. The film’s thrilling here-and-now atmosphere was amplified by its striking B/W images, jerky handheld cams, smouldering angst, and provocative use of conflicts, memories and dreams.

p.s. This is a revisit.

Director: Satyajit Ray

Genre: Drama/Urban Drama

Language: Bengali

Country: India

A Man of Integrity [2017]

 Dissident Iranian filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof’s slow-burn thriller A Man of Integrity – which he secretly made in defiance of the suspended prison sentence and ban on filmmaking that’d been imposed by the state – is a bristling Kafkaesque work that delivered a lashing critique of the corruption, authoritarianism and bureaucracy in the broader society. It did that by pitting a wronged working-class man against a powerful, crooked and intransigent system, thereby making it feel like a companion piece to Zvyagintsev’s terrific movie Leviathan, especially in their fatalist and desolate outlooks accompanied by scorching political undercurrents. The man referred to by its title is Reza (Reza Akhlaghirad), a hot-headed, stubborn and principled man – a prickly combination even on a good day, but more so if you’re financially struggling, without any influential connections and residing in a place where due processes are thoroughly subverted – who displays the temerity to stand for his rights. He runs a small fish farm that he refuses to sell off, owes debts that he decides to address by the book, and gets into a fight with the brutish enforcer of the company that has its sights on his land upon realizing that his water is being deliberately poisoned. That’s just the beginning of his problems as he and his wife – Hadis (Soudabeh Beizaee), the school headmistress and an eloquent woman who stands by her husband while also being thoroughly infuriated by his pig-headedness – find their lives spectacularly falling apart. That’s when he decides to strike back and exact revenge for the injustices, which is inevitably at a heavy price. The tense and moody atmosphere made this grim parable, bursting with fury and dissent, a charged and gripping work.

Director: Mohammad Rasoulof

Genre: Drama/Thriller

Language: Persian

Country: Iran