The Mukherjee family singers: Bharati Mukherjee and Sreemati Mukherjee

My mother sings 'Amare tumi ashesh korechho'...

My mother sings 'Amare tumi ashesh korechho'...

On seeing Alakananda Roy's Balmiki Pratibha in the Lakes 3 years back. Letter/email written to my daughter...

Dear Priya, 

I went to see Valmiki Pratibha (composed by Rabindranath in his late teens, staged in his house at Jorasanko at that time and Valmiki [who composed the Ramayana] acted by him, and directed this time around, by your Alakananda Aunty. I am attaching a photograph of hers that I took. 

I can't tell you what a brilliant display it was. What masterful choreography. How breathtaking the community participation on the stage. And the actors, the performers and the dancers? Inmates of the Correction Home at Alipore. I hope you know that jails are called Correction Homes, nowadays. 

I knew her as an Odissi dancer before; when you were 7--10 years old, taking you as I did every Saturday afternoon, to her class in Dover Lane. But it is in this brilliant act of humanitarian engagement leading to various kinds of  psychological rehabilitation and reorientation s of marked and pariah peoples, that she has made her signal contribution. I don't know if she received a National Award for this. She should  and a lot more. 

There was a little girl who plays the part of the Balika (little girl) who brings about a transformation in the dacoit Ratnakar, who later turned into the sage Valmiki. Remember how smitten you were with Nigel? Well, he was the original Valmiki of the first/initial staging of this dance drama. This little girl played her part so well, so expertly, and she has been so well taught by her teacher, Alakananda Ray. The reason I mention this, is that i truly applaud her parents, for allowing her to participate in the midst of Correction Home inmates. 

I was seated in the second row; hence, I could watch the wings. A band on her little wrist had come undone. One of the men (convict) tied that band for her so very tenderly, and she smiled a quick, sweet smile to another man standing next to her. Convicts playing convicts. Policemen watched from the wings and from the grounds. 

This occasion had many 'firsts'. In a splendid move to fuse Art with Nature and patronage, some well meaning residents of Kolkata and the Rabindra Sarovar area, have decided to have open air theatre in the Lake area, every Saturday. Ananda-da told me about it yesterday. I took your Bomma and went. Every moment was worth it. 

In A Midsummer Night's Dream, Bottom the weaver, has an affair with the Fairy Queen, Titania.  It all happens in  a forest space, at night, and the borders of dream and reality become porous, as all the characters, more or less, but especially Titania and Bottom, are lost in spaces which cannot be translated (or represented) in language. 

But Bottom, recovering from that dream, says, ' Methought I was--there is no man who can tell what Methought I was......The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was'.

I felt that the stage offered these special inmates that chance for a special metamorphosis, when the rough clothes of workaday existence, the suffocating coils of societal punishment could be shaken off, and a glimpse of glorious transformation achieved .

 In response to Srijit Mukherjee’s Hemlock Society

This film, a much earlier one to Chatuskon, has the same preoccupation with Death as the latter film. There is an eros of thanatos ( the death drive) in Mukherjee’s films, often. That is, love of death, as opposed to affirmation of life, or eros. Death as pervasive, death as the final arbiter of life. “Maranare tuhun mama shyama saman” or “moron bole ami tomar jivan tori bai”. Death the great  Beloved, death the great shadow and tragic reality. I see an obsessive return to the theme of death in Srijit Mukherjee’s films, each return, an outstanding film, though.

Hemlock Society does not have the grimness of Chatuskon. It is redeemed by the love story, the concentration on youth and the inevitable beauty of the heroine. The closing song set to Raag Yaman, also gives a note of upbeat joy, of life triumphing over death. The car too, Parambrata driving over Hooghly bridge, also suggests motion or dynamic flow, and modern technological innovation that facilitates exits of all kinds. 

I am stunned that a young film maker thinks so well, so brilliantly, and is able to transform some of the deepest intuitions of life into a gripping story, interesting and empathetic dialogue and outstanding cinematography. A work of Art, indeed, a consummate fusion, a melody that stays and moves.

I thought that the ending cheapened the sustained exploration of death in the film. In my opinion (and my opinion, only), the film would have been more artistically restrained, more tailored, had it ended with the scene between Koyel and Parambrata in the hospital. That would have prevented the somewhat comic closure of the end. After the telling of Koyel’s story, it was not necessary to engage with the story of her boyfriend. There was no need to make him out as a comic figure, nor give added emphasis to the evangelical side of Parambrata’s (Ananda’s) character. The unitary focus of the film was lost for me that way. The scene with the TDS issue, was great, though. A slice of real life, as opposed to the finished perfection and seriousness of artistic enterprise.

The acting was outstanding. Parambrata seems to reach a maturity in Srijit Mukherjee’s films, that I don’t recollect seeing elsewhere. Koyel plays the role of the sophisticated Meghna perfectly.

The bit about Siddhartha Ray’s electrical engineering degree from Jadavpur is also interesting.

Srijit Mukherjee is one of the greatest film makers to come out of Bengal, and also India. He rivals both Satyajit Roy and Rituparna Ghosh. However, if he repeats the death motive too often, then he will stand the risk of over repeating himself.

I know this is a  comparatively older film, but revisiting it was great. One of the lines that Ananda speaks, of how the ideal woman of his dreams, combines  knowledge of ‘Feluda, Derrida and Neruda’ is  hilarious to a degree that I will remember it for a long time.  Intelligent, well read and wonderful film maker.

Srijit Mukherjee’s Ek Je Chhilo Raja.

The title exploits the fabulous implications of a fairy tale (Roopkatha) which always begins with, ’Once upon a time’, ‘ek je chhilo Raja o Rani’.

Yes, the film treats the Raja of Bhawal (Sannyasi Raja) very sympathetically. It also (almost) presents the point of view of the brother-in-law (perpetrator of crime) and woman attorney, well. Not equally forcefully—the tilt towards favouring  the Raja, no matter what, is a given in the text/film/ narrative/ ‘secret desire’ of the work.

As a woman, I ask whether a profligate of that scale, whether a licentious man of that calibre (I mean, the calibre to be so licentious) should be forgiven and celebrated and not excoriated?

The music (incredible, fabulous, superlative) is with him. It is he that the spectacular Kedara composition at the beginning, celebrates. It is he that Rabindranath’s “Maharaja, eky saaje,’celebrates.  Dramatic moments of entry, superb  music, character, moment, stage., magically and powerfully fused. Shreya, Ishan and Sahana have sung so well.

Redeeming qualities of Mahendra? His love of animals and also his subjects, perhaps. Human beings are paradoxes. They are seldom just good or evil. A human being has to be judged on the basis of the actions she/he can commit, both as agents of good and evil. It is the scale that is important. It is the scale that is dramatic. Tamburlaine, Macbeth, Faustus, Othello and even Lear, were not ‘good’ men as such. Or Vittoria Corombona of The White Devil (John Webster,1612). However, they had a quality of incandescence that was rare, that was compelling, that could draw human interest and engagement. Create spaces of identification for the audience.

Mahendra’s life has classic potential as drama. It is a good story and it is well told,  in this case.  

What I really take back from the film is the music. Once again, Shreya, Ishan and Sahana were all so good. Can’t say who was better. Shreya Ghoshal is the queen of playback singing. But the way the scene is imagined with Jisshu’s re-entry into that magnificent building and Sahana breaking into, ‘Maharaja..’, just made my heart sing, too.

Jisshu is larger than life. He fits the larger than life role, with his appearance, mostly. Noble, imposing, Raja-like.  All the characters acted well. All. I forget the name of the sister. She is always so good. One of the best that the Bangla scene has to offer. I am so happy that a Bangladeshi actress is doing so well,  in India.

The setting is fantastic and carefully created. The details are good.

Not easy to pull off a story like that,  where characters, stage, setting, demand a grandness of design and execution.  An almost epic venture.

Long after I left the hall, the music resonated in my ears. It still does. That is why I wrote the review.

Srijit Mukherjee’s Ek Je Chhilo Raja.

The title  exploits the fabulous implications of a fairy tale (Roopkatha) which always begins with, ’Once upon a time’, ‘ek je chhilo Raja o Rani’.

Yes, the film treats the Raja of Bhawal (Sannyasi Raja) very sympathetically. It also (almost) presents the point of view of the brother-in-law (perpetrator of crime) and woman attorney, well. Not equally forcefully—the tilt towards favouring  the Raja, no matter what, is a given in the text/film/ narrative/ ‘secret desire’ of the work.

As a woman, I ask whether a profligate of that scale, whether a licentious man of that calibre (I mean, the calibre to be so licentious) should be forgiven and celebrated and not excoriated?

The music (incredible, fabulous, superlative) is with him. It is he that the spectacular Kedara composition at the beginning, celebrates. It is he that Rabindranath’s “Maharaja, eky saaje,’celebrates.  Dramatic moments of entry, superb  music, character, moment, stage., magically and powerfully fused. Shreya, Ishan and Sahana have sung so well.

Redeeming qualities of Mahendra? His love of animals and also his subjects, perhaps. Human beings are paradoxes. They are seldom just good or evil. A human being has to be judged on the basis of the actions she/he can commit, both as agents of good and evil. It is the scale that is important. It is the scale that is dramatic. Tamburlaine, Macbeth, Faustus, Othello and even Lear, were not ‘good’ men as such. Or Vittoria Corombona of The White Devil (John Webster,1612). However, they had a quality of incandescence that was rare, that was compelling, that could draw human interest and engagement. Create spaces of identification for the audience.

Mahendra’s life has classic potential as drama. It is a good story and it is well told,  in this case.  

What I really take back from the film is the music.Srijato wrote wonderful lyrics and they were masterfully set to tune by Indrajit Dasgupta. Once again, Shreya, Ishan and Sahana and Kaushiki were all so good.  Can’t say who was better. Shreya Ghoshal is the queen of playback singing. But the way the scene is imagined with Jisshu’s re-entry into that magnificent building and Sahana breaking into, ‘Maharaja..’, just made my heart sing, too.

Jisshu is larger than life. He fits the larger than life role, with his appearance, mostly. Noble, imposing, Raja-like.  All the characters acted well. All. I forget the name of the sister. She is always so good. One of the best that the Bangla scene has to offer. I am so happy that a Bangladeshi actress is doing so well,  in India.

The setting is fantastic and carefully created. The details are good.

Not easy to pull off a story like that,  where characters, stage, setting, demand a grandness of design and execution.  An almost epic venture.

Long after I left the hall, the music resonated in my ears. It still does. That is why I wrote the review.