Indian Film Culture - 16.cdr - federation of film societies of india

Editor 

H.N.Narahari Rao 

Advisory Board, 

Gautam Kaul 

Premendra 

V.T.Subramanian 

Dilip Bapat 

Executive Assistance 

R.Mani 

Cover and Layout 

U.T.Suresh 

Editorial Office 

Federation of Film 

Societies of India, 

th th 

230, 45 Cross, 8 Block 

Jayanagar, Bangalore-560070 

Email: ffsico@gmail.com 

All signed articles in the 

journal represent the 

views of the authors and not 

necessarily of FFSI. 

The President and the CEC members of FFSI profoundly thank 

all the authors who have contributed the articles for IFC-16. 

Front Cover Still : Kurmavatara

June 2012 

Indian Film Culture- 16 

1. Editorial 3 

2. Ray and Tagore by Chidananda Dasgupta 5 

3. Tributes to Chidanand Dasgupta: 

Some stray thoughts about a friend by Vijaya Mulay 15 

Chidananda Dasgupta, The Doyen by Aruna Vasudev 19 

Chiduda: Always Inspiring by Parimal Mukherjee 22 

Chidananda Dasgupta, the man and the critic by Ranjita Biswas 24 

4. In Memoriam - Theo Angelopoulos by Dan Fainaru 28 

5. Leila and A separation - A comparison by M.K.Raghavendra 31 

6. Film Festivals - Then and Now by David Sterritt. 36 

7. A Tribute to Soumitra Chattopadhyay by Premendra Mazumder 42 

8. Film Criticism today - by H.N.Narahari Rao 47 

9. Chandulal J. Shah - by Rafique Baghdadi 54 

10. Hindi Cinema's Nehruvian Yatra (Journey) by Darius Cooper 59 

11. The Future of Film Society Movement by Sudhir Nandgaonkar 68 

12. Reviews: Kurmavatara - 71, Byari - 74, The Tree of Life - 76

E d i t o r i a l 

Chidananda Dasgupta 

- A Tribute 

Chidanand Dasgupta (1921-2011) 

This issue of Indian Film Culture is dedicated to the memory 

of late Chidanand Dasgupta, the world renowned film critic 

and a pioneer of the film society movement in India, who 

passed away on May 22, 2011, at Kolkata. 

Born in 1921, Chiduda as he was fondly addressed was best 

known as a film historian and film critic. He has written over 

2000 articles on cinema published in various periodicals of 

India and abroad. His articles published in British magazine 

Sight and Sound in the 1960s are considered to be of great 

significance and that won him international acclaim as a 

celebrated film critic. 

It was on October, 5, 1947, in Calcutta that 19 film enthusiasts 

assembled in a garret in South Calcutta and founded Calcutta 

Film Society. Chidanand Dasgupta was one among them who 

took the initiative along with Satyajit Ray, Hari S.Das Gupta, 

Hiran Sanyal and Radha Mohan Bhattacharya. This group of 

young film lovers were convinced that there is urgent need for 

telling the people that there is another kind of cinema in the 

world that needs to be seen and appreciated. 

3 

June 2012 

Indian Film Culture

The enthusiasm and the passion for cinema of 

these enthusiasts was so great that they took it up 

seriously and immediately launched the 

screenings of such great classics of the world 

cinema like, Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin, 

David Lean's Brief Encounter(UK), Carol 

Reed's The Way Ahead (UK), Jean Renoir's This 

Land is Mine (France), Flaherty's Nanook of the 

North, Orson Welles's Citizen Kane and many 

such highly acclaimed films. It was a revelation 

for many intellectuals and many film lovers who 

were habituated to see the routine formula films 

with songs, dance and fights in commercial 

theatres. It was not that easy to arrange 

screenings of such films in those days. They had 

to spend their own personal money, and had to 

beg the theatre people to spare the hall in the 

unusual timings like in the morning and procure 

films from the foreign mission using influence 

and personal contacts. They did all this but the 

result was not encouraging at all. Only a handful 

of people numbering around 50 to hundred used 

to attend. But they persisted their task with a 

missionary zeal. 

It was in 1958 that Chiduda took personal 

interest and prepared a blue print for building an 

active film society movement in the country. 

The document he prepared was for the 

formation of Federation of Film Societies of 

India was given a suitable shape with 

recommendations from Mr. M.V.Krishnaswamy 

and Mr. Bhownagary who were in Films 

Division at that time and ultimately the 

Federation of Film Societies of India took shape 

and was formed on 13, December 1959 at the 

residence of Krishna Kripalani the then 

secretary of the Sahitya Academy at New Delhi. 

Chidanand Dasgupta and Mrs. Vijaya Mulay 

took over the crucial posts of Secretaries under 

the presidentship of Satyajit Ray. 

Their pioneering works in the early years of 

formation and his sustained involvement in this 

activity for decades inspired many film buffs to 

start film societies all over India and during the 

last fifty years this movement though not mass 

based in its size has definitely created awareness 

in many areas where it matters most. He was 

4 

also the pioneer of film criticism in India taking 

interest in promoting FIPRESCI- India a wing 

of the Federation of International Film Critics as 

its first President. 

It was again on the initiative of Chiduda that the 

first issue of Indian Film Culture (IFC) was 

published in Apr-June 1962. The first editorial 

board consisting of stalwarts like Chidanand 

Dasgupta, Jagmohan, B.D.Garga, Marie Seton, 

Kobita Sarkar, Satyajit Ray, P.V.G.Raju, 

A.Rehman, K.Rangachari, Anantharaman and 

Satish Bahadur. The objective and the intention 

behind starting such a publication were made 

clear as it is reproduced here: 'Indian Film 

Culture, however is not intended to be a house 

magazine for members of the Federation. As its 

contents will show, it aims being a journal of 

Film appreciation, written from the Indian point 

of view. Chiduda took enormous interest in 

editing this magazine and his coverage of 

Foreign Film festivals under the caption Diary 

of a film critic became a regular feature of IFC in 

most of the earlier issues. In those days only a 

very few film critics could afford to attend 

foreign film festivals and Mr. Chidanand 

Dasgupta, as a renowned film critic attended all 

major film festivals such as Cannes, Berlin, 

Venice, Moscow, Karlovy Vary and many others 

as an invitee and IFC had the benefit of 

publishing his reviews of the films he saw and 

also the coverage of the events. 

He has authored several books including 

Talking about film, The painted Face, Seeing is 

Believing and many others. His book The 

Cinema of Satyajit Ray remains one of the 

definitive works on Satyajit Ray. He also 

directed many documentaries including 

Portrait of a City (1961), The Dance of Shiva 

(1968), The Stuff of Steel (1969), Zaroorat ki 

Purti (1979), Rakto (1973) and two feature films 

Bilet Pherat. (1972) and Amodini (1994). 

On behalf of the Film societies and the Film 

critics in India, we pay our tributes to him for 

pioneering the film movement in India. 

June 2012 


President, FFSI. 


(Just recently we celebrated the 

t h 

150 Birth Anniversary of 

Rabindranath Tagore, and Satyajit 

Ray made films on Tagore's works 

and also a Documentary on Tagore. 

Late Chiduda wrote an article on 

'Ray and Tagore', which was 

published in British Film Institute's 

magazine Sight and Sound in winter 

-1966/67 issue. We are reproducing 

it here with the kind courtesy of BFI 

and NFAI Pune- Kind Courtesy: 

Sight and Sound – Winter - 

1966/67) 

Ray and Tagore 

by Chidananda Dasgupta 

Chiduda 

It was NOT FOR NOTHING that Truffaut (reportedly) 

walked out of a showing of Pather Panchali (1955), it was 

because he could not bear the slow rhythm. Arriving once in a 

rush to see Postmaster, I was irritated beyond measure by the 

time Anil Chatterjee took to turn his head less than 180 

degrees. But, slowly, the film cast its spell, one was lifted out 

of breathless pace of middle-class city life and placed in the 

heart of Indian reality, surrendering to the rhythm of life As it 

is lived by the majority of people, and has been, for hundreds 

of years. The waterlogged path, the little hut surrounded by 

bamboo groves, became real, every movement of a face took 

on meaning, became a personal experience. 

Yet Satyajit Ray does not nostalgically idealize traditional 

India. The Postmaster cannot stick life in the village and must 

go back, he is too city bred. Apu moves from his village to 

Benares and finally to Calcutta, inexorably drawn towards a 

more modern world. Jalsaghar records the decay of 

feudalism, no matter with how much melancholy. Devi gently 

5 

June 2012 


points to the protest against superstition 

naturally arising out scientific education. And 

Amulya in Samapti sports a portrait of 

Napoleon and wears tartan socks and Oxford 

shoes – a wayward mixture of tradition and 

modernity. 

In India, the hiatus between modern and 

traditional, educated and uneducated, rich and 

poor is so great that this process of identification 

with the rhythm and reality of the life of the 

people is essential to any art which is not 

prepared to be ephemeral. The rhythm of Ray's 

films is one of the finest things about his work, 

for the very reason that it expresses a wider 

reality than the one we are used to in our islands 

of modernity in India. 

It is also intimately bound up with the 

contemplative nature of his style, the 

preoccupation with what happens in the mind 

rather than on the surface. Ray's work abounds 

in long wordless passages, in which his 

characters do very little and yet express a deal. 

Think, for instance, of the long, slow opening of 

Jalsaghar, showing the old man sitting on the 

terrace in the twilight, his back to the camera, 

and his servant handing him his long pipe. It sets 

the note of the entire film-the passing of an 

order, the twilight not only of his life, but of age. 

6 

Jalsaghar 

Jalsaghar 

For those who look upon the cinema as a vehicle 

of action and drama, Ray's work is anti-film. In 

the one sequence of Jalsaghar in which he 

essays a sudden spurt of dramatic action – the 

death by drowning of the old man's wife and 

son- he is acutely uncomfortable, and becomes 

almost banal both in the symbol of the upturned 

boat and the manner of introduction of the dead 

boy. In Jalsaghar as in Devi, he takes a story 

with great 'dramatic' potential and persistently 

plays down his element. Perhaps he feels, like 

Auguste Renoir, that: “The hero portrayed at the 

moment when he is defying the enemy, or a 

woman shown in the hardest pains of labour, is 

not a suitable subject for a great painting, though 

men and women who have passed through such 

ordeals …become great subjects when later on 

the artist can portray them in repose. The artist's 

task is not to stress this or that instant in a human 

being's existence, but to make comprehensible 

the man in his entirety.” (Renoir, My Father, by 

Jean Renoir.) 

June 2012 

Jalsaghar 


The inevitability and the direction of change is 

never in doubt in Jalsaghar or Devi; that is why 

Ray is content to express the individual in his 

entirety and never feels the need to take up the 

cudgels for social reform. In Devi, he has no less 

sympathy for the fatherin- law who becomes 

obsessed with the idea that his son's wife is the 

incarnation of the goddess, than for the 

unfortunate girl who gives her life to it. To Ray 

both are victims: one of his superstition, the 

other of its consequences. There is no anger, no 

sense of urgency, and no obvious partisanship 

for the forces of change. 

In this sense of resignation and fatality, Ray is 

Indian to the core. Indian tradition views 

existence as a continuous line of epic sweep 

rather than as a tight circle of drama in which 

death brings tragedy. The Apu trilogy is almost 

as littered with dead bodies as Hamlet, yet the 

feeling is totally different. Durga dies, followed 

by Harihar, and then Sarbajaya; finally Aparna. 

But life goes on, and hope never dies. The tragic 

view of life of western literature is totally absent 

from Ray. 

In today's India hope is not just an eternal 

tradition: It underlines the here and now. A vast 

process of change has been developing more 

than a hundred years through the influence of 

Western scientific thought. Until Independence, 

this was largely confined to educated class; now 

that a faster tempo of industrialization has set in, 

it has begun to spread more widely. The poorest 

or most skeptical Indian realizes today that 

although material prosperity and the modern 

age are not just around the corner, India cannot 

remain in its present condition for ever. Perhaps 

in the past hope had something to do with the 

hereafter or at most with the imminence of 

Independence; now it springs from the 

aspiration towards a better life in this world. 

Dialectically enough, the hope of material 

prosperity produces a sense of faith, and faith is 

an important element in art. Ray's work does not 

merely record the poverty of India; it is imbued 

with confidence in the human being. 

7 

The spiritual restlessness of a Bergman or a 

Fellini lies in the search for hopes and faiths 

which they cannot find. Inevitably, the 

difference in spirit gives rise to differences in 

form. The slow tempo of Ray's films reflects a 

deeper sense of Indian reality. In that respect, it 

is very different from the slow rhythm of an 

Antonioni film, which demands a response 

which is not natural to the western way of life, 

but rather runs counter to it and so create bitter 

controversies. Ray's images are (like 

Antonion's) what I would call musical in 

expressiveness; they send out ripples far beyond 

any conscious understanding of the elements 

contained in them. They are decorative, 

pronouncedly so in Charulata, but to varying 

degree in other films as well. This, too, is 

embedded in the Indian tradition, in which 

decoratif is not a word of abuse as it is in France. 

In Rajasthani miniatures or classical music, 

decoration and expression are one and the same 

thing. And the deliberation of Ray's 

composition does not inhibit the spontaneity of 

the work, which flows like Indian music. 

improvising freely with in some broad 

definitions. Even his background music often 

becomes memorable by itself, as in Pather 

Panchali and Charulata, and is not the 'unheard 

music' that background music in films ideally 

supposed to be. The melodic themes are often 

recognisable and memorable, and emphasize 

the lyrical-decorative aspects of his films. 

June 2012 

Charulata 


In Pather Panchali Ray created his basic style 

and technique. It was not without its rough 

edges (think of the sequence of Durga's illness, 

with element of theatrical contrivance), but the 

truth of inspiration carried it along. In Aparajito 

his technique becomes more mature and 

polished and capable subtlety. Less obvious 

emotions can now be expressed with more 

restraint (as in the death of Sarbajaya). In 

Jalsaghar Ray made his first important film in a 

studio, with a professional actor and more 

complex resources. And Jalsaghar is the 

outstanding example of his technique until 

Charulata – in his handling of a vast set, mixing 

the real and the artificial. Significantly, it came 

out of the oldest and most primitive of Calcutta's 

studios. In the terrace scene of the opening, the 

moonlit veranda sequence, the music-room in 

session, the ride to death, every shade of 

atmosphere is subtly drawn out. 

Mood and atmosphere dominate, and it is 

because of their dominance that craftsmanship 

plays such an important role. From here on, Ray 

is completely sure of himself and uses the 

camera almost with its fluency of a writer using 

his pen. To master technique and subordinate it 

completely to one's will is the first requirement 

for individual expression; and in the cinema it 

often becomes the supreme enemy, because of 

the enormous complexities and temptations. 

But Ray's unit (he works always with the same 

group of technicians) moves as easily under his 

hand as a well-ordered machine. Watching him 

shoot Two Daughters, what struck me was his 

sheer technical fluency. 

It is not the perfection of technique, however, 

that makes Ray's films important. The world and 

mind he projects are basically those of the 

Bengal renaissance which started up in the 19th 

century. In a way he is the chronicler of the past; 

yet the inner assurance of the hope and faith is 

not a thing of the past, for these feelings are 

buried under the surface of modern India, in the 

Nehru dream. Nehru stood somewhere between 

Gandhi and Tagore; and the truth of the Tagore 

8 

value-world never quite lost its appeal in 

Nehru's India. In fact, it found new expression in 

the ideals, if not in all realities, of the Nehru era. 

The Calcutta of the burning trams, the 

communal riots, refugees, unemployment, 

rising prices and food shortages, does not exist 

in Ray's films. Although he lives in this city, 

there is no correspondence between him and the 

poetry of anguish which has dominated Bengali 

literature for the last ten years. On the whole 

Ray has portrayed the past evolution of the 

middle class as reflected in the long period 

dominated by Tagore. It has something that has 

gone into the making of himself and his 

generation; something he knows and 

understands. In a broad way, it forms the 

background of his experience. The experience 

need not be directly personal; the people, the 

customs, the attitudes reflected in the Tagore era 

become, through repetition and constant 

explication, part of the fabric of personal 

experience. A certain image of the villager, the 

young man getting to know the world outside, 

the women slowly liberated through social 

evolution, became crystallized in the poems, 

plays, novels and essays not only of Tagore but 

of writers of his period; and it is this image 

which projects itself in Ray's films. His 

characters are powerfully simplified, and 

contained within very broad outlines of the 

typology of the period. 

Look at Ray's heroes, Soumitra Chatterjee's 

resemblance to the young Tagore in The World 

of Apu is far from accidental, for he reappears 

without the beard – in film after film. And in the 

Apu trilogy Ray veers away from the novelist 

Bibhuti Bhusan's slightly dewy-eyed vision of 

Golden Bengal to the Tagorean attitude of 

someone who is deeply attracted towards 

Western science and feels the urge to create a 

new Indian identity. Bibhuti Bhusan's wonder 

child never grows up; Ray's Apu lives through 

the experiences of childhood and youth to 

become a man. 

June 2012 


In Devi we meet Soumitra Chatterjee again, by 

now already an embodiment of Bengali youth of 

a certain period and type both of which are 

distinctly derived from Tagore. Already in Devi 

the weakness of character has become apparent: 

he is thinker more than a man of action, a bit of a 

Hamlet. He has read Mill and Bentham and 

disapproves of his father's superstitious visions, 

but he is not strong enough to withstand the 

pressures of tradition or repudiate what he 

considers to be the evils of ignorance. In his 

political thinking Tagore eschewed both the 

violence of the terrorist and the shrewdly 

practical non-violence of Gandhi; but he 

provided inspiration towards the general ideals 

of patriotism which is not narrow, individualism 

which is not intolerant. Ray's heroes also 

represent a noble philosophical outlook, but are 

not men of action on the plane of reality. 

By the time of Charulata, Soumitra Chatterjee 

has evolved further from his earlier, Tagorean 

base. The Mill and Bentham reading character 

(inspired by Ram Mohan Roy, a 19th century 

social reformer often described as the 'father of 

modern India') now belongs to the older 

generation, and is embodied in the bearded, 

princenez-sporting Bhupati with his affluent 

idealism. Amal (Chatterjee) himself stands 

between the pure Tagore and what is to come 

after. But he too is devoid of cynicism, on the 

9 

Charulata 

whole unselfconscious, and capable of moral 

action, in going away when he realizes that he is 

about to betray his brother. Of what is to come 

after, we see rather more in Kapurush: the 

'Ravindrik' (Tagorean) generation has finally 

revealed his failure in the weak- minded slightly 

parasitic intellectual ( a film writer), who is no 

longer made a coward by his conscious but by 

sheer lack of courage. 

In the series of films – the trilogy, Devi, Samapti, 

Charulata and Kapurush – the Ray hero has 

emerged in a straight line from the Tagore mould 

of protected innocence into the contemporary 

world, only to find himself inadequate to 

contend with it. The type of hero represented by 

Soumitra chatterjee in various Ray films is no 

longer noble in his motives and irresolute in his 

actions: In Kapurush he is weak without being 

noble. But this is an end which is surely not 

untypical of the romantic Bengali youth brought 

up under the Tagore umbrella. They have 

become cynical under the disillusionment in 

Independent India. Their past idealism has 

become a drag on them and has made them 

unable to cope with a society where, whether we 

like it or not, the law of the jungle has acquired 

some currency. But even the evolution never 

takes him to its furthest limits, limits which 

Tagore himself had explored. 

June 2012 

Abhijan 


Even though the working class garb of Abhijan, 

the Tagore-oriented middle class minds of Ray 

and Chatterjee show clearly through the thin 

disguise of the different-style beard of its hero. 

Soumitra has tried in many ways to play 'tough' 

not only in this film but in others; but he has not 

ceased to represent the charm, innocence, 

unselfconsciousness, and the accompanying 

weakness of the young Bengali romantic hero of 

the Tagore period. A sort of protected hero, with 

a dominating father-figure lurking somewhere 

in the shadows, who is not destined to battle on 

his own, still less to win. 

In Kanchenjunga, the hero comes from an 

altogether new social class, and his line of 

thought is different from that of the Tagorean 

dreamers. He is a product of today, with 

idealism that is more capable of contending with 

realities, because it is more clear-eyed and much 

more of a piece. He is not the affluent son turned 

idealist: he belongs more to the larger middle 

classes which ceased to be land lords long ago. 

He is not in the least ashamed of his comical 

uncle, would call spade a spade any day, and 

even if he is attracted to the daughter of the 

impossible Ray Bahadur (a low-grade British 

title), he sets no great store by her vague promise 

of seeing him in Calcutta. If the liaison did not 

work out, he would have no hesitation in 

breaking it. But this different hero is hinted at in 

the splendid isolation of the picture's Darjeeling 

setting, and in this lightweight film obliquely 

bypasses a set of values unfamiliar to the Tagore 

mythology. 

Another modern type, less of a hero, is presented 

by Anil Chatterjee in Postmaster. But in both 

films the basic emphasis is away from him; in 

one on the child, in the other the woman. As a 

result he is a somewhat shadowy figure, brought 

in to fill the place of the traditional none-toobright 

middle-class individual. He has acquired 

the outward mental accoutrements of the Tagore 

world, to the extent of wanting to teach the child 

in Postmaster and counseling the wife to take a 

10 

job in Mahanagar, without any sense of 

dedication to either. His relationships, his 

emotions, never reach the larger-than-life size 

achieved by other Ray heroes, especially 

Soumitra Chattertje, in their representation of an 

epoch or an outlook. 

Devi 

One could say that in the films preceding 

Mahanagar, Ray's preoccupation is with man. 

The trilogy's heroines are the women of Indian 

tradition, loving and sometimes loved, 

providers of anchorage to the nomadic male 

who goes out to do battle and whose fate is 

therefore of greater importance. The girl in Devi 

is not much more than an object, owned by her 

father-in-law even more than by her husband; 

even Sarbajaya, patient and loving in a motherearth 

way, cannot decide either her own or her 

family's future. In the Postmaster, the child is 

little mother, already burdened with the 

responsibilities of an outgoing love. In Samapti, 

although the husband is a somewhat 

'enlightened' young man the measure of selfdetermination 

which the wife is destined to 

enjoy does not seem to be too great. The film 

does record a change in the outlook towards 

marriage, but more from the man's point of view 

than from that of girl, who accepts, with 

happiness, what all others have accepted before 

her. 

June 2012 


It is in Mahanagar that for the first time, we 

come across a woman who is awakened to the 

possibility of determining the course of her own 

life. Typically enough the awakening touch 

comes from the husband, for men have been 

traditional liberators of women. But 

traditionally, too, they have retracted when they 

have seen consequences of their action. Aarati is 

unable to exert herself in her brief freedom, but 

she has had a glimpse of a world where she is 

somebody in her own right. When she resigns 

from her job – her one act of protest-it is in 

obedience not to her husband's wish, but to her 

own impulsive fellow-feeling for the Anglo- 

Indian girl who is unjustly dismissed. Ironically 

enough, in this act she also gives up the freedom 

she has won. Somebody, protesting against this 

thesis, said that “as for her rights, Aarati is 

perverted.” So she is; the adjustment to a sudden 

inner feeling of economic independence is not 

easy. It comes out in little awkward ways which 

add to the truth of the situation. 

But I find Ray's first essay on Indian woman 

tentative and unsure of itself. The characters are 

not seen sufficiently from the inside, and there is 

an excessive dependence (itself uncharacteristic 

of Ray) on outward incident. The meeting under 

the doorway, when the husband says “Do not 

worry, it is a vast city and one of us is bound to 

find a job,” provides too pat a solution for a 

problem which will continue to plague us for a 

long time to come. And it is unlike Ray to seek 

such four-square solutions; his films are much 

11 

Mahanagar 

better when they are what people call openended. 

The sureness of touch is much more evident in 

Charulata, and because Ray understands of 

character is perfect, everything falls into place. 

Charulata is observed entirely from the inside. 

–obsessively so, in fact, with the result that we 

do not see into the minds of the men. Except 

when he breaks down in the carriage, Bhupati is 

more of a type than a character-the agreeable 

'young Bengal' liberal of the 19th century, 

affluent, idealistic, touching in his innocence 

and lack of self-consciousness. Amal, too, 

reveals himself only in the scene in the press 

room after the robbery, where, standing in the 

half-light behind the brother, he awakens to the 

truth of his situation. His inner conflict 

elsewhere is so muted as to be missed almost 

completely by many people. 

Charulata 

But where Charulata herself is concerned, every 

thought in her mind is clearly visible. In 

Madhabi Mukherjee, Ray found the 

embodiment of a certain type of Indian women, 

just as he had found the man in Soumitra 

Chatterjee, Deeply intelligent , sensitive, 

outwardly graceful and serene, inwardly she is 

the kind of traditional Indian woman of today 

whose inner seismograph catches the vibration 

waves reaching from outside into her seclusion. 

The world outside is changing, and down in the 

drawing-room English 19th century social 

philosophy and Ram Mohun Roy ideas 

inevitably working towards the liberation of 

women. 

June 2012 


Mahanagar Ray at work – Mahanagar 

Charulata Charulata 

Mahangar is a contemporary story and Charulata a period piece. Yet in the latter, the woman is more 

self-aware and one might even call her ruthless. If her conscious does not trouble her too much, it is not 

merely because of her innocence; she has a strong character, she finds pout what she wants, and the 

knowledge does not shock her. It only makes her to go forward to get her man. She reminds me 

perversely, of Lady Macbeth in Wajda's Siberian film. In a society which tells a woman 'here is the man 

that thou shalt love' she does not shy away from an impossible relationship. And, I repeat this is only 

partly due to the innocent nature of her self-awareness. It does come to her so slowly that it is hard for 

her to draw the line; but in that unforgettable garden scene she perceives the dark truth, without a 

shadow of doubt. A 'transparent' moment and a great one at that. 

I see in Kapurush, irrespective of the fact it is a somewhat sloppily made film by Ray's and Charulata's 

standards, a continuation of the theme of the woman's quest for happiness of her own making. She is the 

same character, as self-possessed and serene as ever; but she has herself changed, through her previous 

experience, as it were, in Mahanagar and Charulata. She tasted economic independence in the first 

and wanted it; in the second she found the man she loved, and longed for the right to go on loving him. 

In the Kapurush she is the woman who has lost both. She is married to a vapid tea-planter whom she has 

12 

June 2012 


never loved; she stays married to him because 

that is the only way for a woman. She is almost 

in the same state of suspended animation as she 

was at the end of Charulata. And suddenly, to 

disturb her peace, her earlier love reappeared on 

the scene. She knows already, unreasonably, 

that he failed once to take her away; and she 

knows that he will fail again- this time not out of 

any noble sentiment for a brother, but out of 

inability to defy society. Again her character is 

more eloquent in its silences than are the others 

in their long speeches, Again, the director's 

mind is thus weaker re-statement of the same 

proposition, and its importance lies only in the 

continuity of the theme and the sense of finality 

it brings to it. 

With increased freedom for the woman, the 

system of marriage has proved inadequate, and 

in Western society shows signs of cracking up. 

Whether that is a good thing or not, let the social 

philosophers work out. But the inescapable fact 

is that such pressures are beginning to be felt in 

our country, with the progress in women's 

education and economic independence. It may 

well be that Ray never thought consciously of 

such a continuity. All the same it is clearly 

discernible, in spite of the fact that the films 

were not conceived in a neat time-sequence. 

It is typical of Ray that the most contemporary 

and truest statement of the theme should be 

achieved in the exquisite period piece rather 

than in the modern setting. In the first place, 

contemporaneity is not something that belongs 

to the story of a film, but to the outlook the 

director brings to bear on it. Ray's 

contemplative, lyrical style is symptomatic of 

remoteness from the immediate problems of the 

day. And if he had not been able to stand back 

and look at what has happened in our country in 

the last hundred years, he could not have made 

the trilogy, or projected so completely the 

Tagore era, the 19th century Bengal 

13 

renaissance, and taken in even the fringe of the 

post-Tagore period. 

Where Ray's apprehension of character tends to 

fall down is in dealing with characters (the 

capitalist of Jalsaghar, the tea-planter of 

Kapurush) more or less unfamiliar to the 

typology of Tagore era. Its idealism often 

underplayed unpleasant truths of character and 

the contradictory urges inevitable in human 

beings. Biographies of this period, for instance, 

never bring out the man in his total psychology; 

they select the more pleasant, publicly 

displayable traits. Tagore himself never reveals 

his personal life in the way of Gandhi. Gandhi's 

outlook was not contained within the 

framework of the rise of middle class in India; 

Tagore's was. At its best, the Tagore trend 

resulted in the emergence of noble images of 

character; at its worst, it was hypocritical, a little 

puritan, a little afraid of Freud. It was never 

suited to the depiction of life in the raw. The 

furthest that it goes in revealing human 

weakness is the delicate and forgiving treatment 

of it in Charulata. 

Neither the more violent and ugly aspects of our 

society, nor the 'poetry of anguish' generated by 

the struggle of the Tagorean to cope with them, 

are reflected in Ray's films. In fact, whenever 

he has taken a tentative step towards them, he 

has tended to burn his fingers. Take Abhijan, for 

instance: the attempt to enter the underworld of 

the working class results in total failure. And the 

reason for this failure is that it cannot be drawn 

from the myths and types of the Tagore world. 

One is not surprised to hear that the film was 

originally to have been made by someone else 

from a script by Ray, until at the last moment he 

decided to take it on. Even the atmosphere of the 

office in which Aarati works in Mahanagar is 

just not complex enough. It never exudes quite 

the darkness, the monumental indifference, the 

cynicism and self-seeking, which make up the 

June 2012 


fabric of such inelegant reality. It is strenuously 

woven, and the clear-cut characters in the office 

situation carry no suggestion of unseen depths. 

Here the powerful simplifications of Ray's 

earlier films lend towards over-simplification. 

In other words, he fails to enter the post-Tagore 

world, in which the young idealist has turned 

cynical, or has turned away from patriotism, 

politics and social reform because all this proves 

too dirty for him and makes him take refuge in 

the 'poetry of anguish'. It is a moot question 

whether the later generation brought up on 

Tagore in the pre-independence era of hope was 

toughened enough in its training to cope with the 

pressures of disillusion, greed, corruption and 

ruthlessness released in the post-independence 

era. Even the rural scene today has changed, and 

the typology of the past no longer fits. The 

image of village life conjured up for so long by 

literary habits has at last become untrue. New 

types are being created by the incursion planned 

investment into the countryside, the invasion of 

the radio, the Block Development offices, 

family planning drives, the commercial cinema, 

the money generated by soaring food prices, the 

14 

opening up of communications. The old myths 

are no longer adequate: they provide a rich 

background to the middle-class mind, but the 

need to translate these values into a tougher 

outlook and languages has become painfully 

clear. 

The post-Tagore age has finally caught up with 

us. It is an age that might call for a passionate 

involvement on the part of the artist, and the film 

is an art which, willy-nilly, must in some way 

reflect these changes in social reality. Whether 

Ray will enter into another phase of 

development to do so, or new artists will arise 

out of these new and less serene urges of the 

times, it is impossible to say. Or will the most 

significant expression of intellect and 

sensibility–which in the years of Ray in Bengal 

has been the domain of the cinema-move to 

another medium? In his documentary biography 

about Tagore, Ray does for the man what his 

films as a whole do for the Tagore age: accept a 

value- world created by another, and proceed to 

illuminate it brilliantly, to project and extend it 

in terms of the cinema. 

June 2012 


(Vijaya Mulay, known as Akka - 

elder sister in Marathi, born 16 May 

1921, is a documentary filmmaker, 

film historian, writer, educationist 

and researcher. The Government of 

India honored Vijaya Mulay with 

the V. Shantaram Award for Lifetime 

Achievement for documentaries at 

the Mumbai International Film 

Festival - MIFF, 2002.She is also 

national award winner for her book 

From Rajahas and Yogis to Gandhi 

and Beyond. More importantly she 

is one of the pioneers of the Film 

Society movement in India being 

one of the co-founders of the 

Federation of Film Societies of 

India along with Chidananda 

Dasgupta in the year 1959. She 

makes a sincere effort to remember 

those days of adventure they 

undertook to initiate a movement 

that opened the windows for many 

of us to see the great classics of the 

world cinema.) 

Tributes to Chduda….. 

Some stray thoughts 

about a friend 

Quite often, what makes one follow a particular path and 

creates bondages seem to be decided by factors that are 

entirely fortuitous. For example, my interest in films and in 

film society movement developed entirely on account of the 

fact that in 1940, I married a young man who was working in 

Patna in Bihar and that the society in Bihar at that time, was 

extremely restrictive in respect of women. A simple act of 

riding a bicycle in Patna of that era became a disaster as street 

children ran around me, shouting to all to come out and see the 

spectacle of a woman on bicycle. I was scared of hurting them 

and myself and beat a hasty retreat. Things that I used to do in 

Mumbai, - namely playing badminton or ring tennis, 

participating in dramas, or even going for walks were no 

longer possible. The only thing that one could do was seeing 

films that came to Patna theatres. My husband and I watched 

them and we discussed them between us and other friends. 

Out of these discussions, grew my interest in the medium of 

film; and this led further to my friendship with many persons 

in that field including Chidanand Dasgupta. 

15 

June 2012 


The social restrictions that the Bihari society of 

the day imposed on women had also a positive 

side. Patna University allowed women to appear 

privately for its examinations. I studied at home 

up to B.A. Later when my husband could afford 

to pay for my college fees, I attended Patna 

College and did very well in post graduate 

studies. I was then able to get a state scholarship 

in 1946 to study in England at Leeds University. 

Having looked at umpteen numbers of films in 

Patna, the first society I joined there was the 

university film society. I then saw film classics 

and participated in discussions that followed. 

That taught me a bit about film language and its 

grammar. I returned home in 1949 and longed to 

see more meaningful cinema than the fare that 

was then commercially available. I wanted a 

film society, but as none existed, it meant 

starting one. Fortunately my husband was very 

supportive and soon we found like-minded 

people like Arun Roychoudhury, Akbar Imam, 

and Prof. Devi Prasad Chatterji. With Calcutta 

Film Society vaguely held up as a model, we set 

up Patna Film Society. Arun worked very hard 

both to get good films and arrange good 

projection. He negotiated a deal with two 

cinema theatres that we could rent for a film 

show on Sunday mornings. (In those days 

theatres started screening films only in the 

afternoons). Our source of films was embassies 

that were anxious to show films from their 

countries since only Anglo-American films 

were being marketed. I remember that for every 

new film society, the opening film was 

Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin, obtained from 

the Soviet embassy. We also learnt the exciting 

news that one of the young film society chaps 

from Calcutta was planning to make a film 

based on a book by Bibhutibabu. 

Both Arun and I had corresponded with Calcutta 

Film Society (CFS) in respect of programs that it 

was organising but there was no contact at 

personal level. After being selected by the 

16 

Union Public Service Commission, I took up a 

job in the advisory cadre of the Education 

Ministry. The Delhi scene was equally bleak in 

terms of cinema, so some of us decided to set up 

Delhi Film Society. By this time, the young chap 

mentioned above had made his first film Pather 

Panchali. It won the national award of best film 

in 1955. Dr. Bidhan Chandra Roy, the then chief 

minister of West Bengal and a well known 

personality in his own right saw it and showed it 

to Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru. Panditji was 

enthusiastic about it and despite some 

opposition, the film was sent in 1956, at his 

insistence to the 9th Cannes festival. It won the 

best human document award and well-known 

film critics from the West praised it very much. 

A Fifth Avenue theatre showed the film in New 

York for several months. This success had long 

term effects on the film scene in India and 

especially on the film society movement. The 

Government of India recognised that film 

societies were worthy of its support and when 

six film societies came together to set up the 

*Federation of Film Societies of India (FFSI), 

Govt. of India supported the effort by providing 

a small yearly grant to the Federation. Our 

dialogue with the Government of India and the 

fact that the prime minister's daughter Indira 

Gandhi was one of the vice-presidents of the 

FFSI also helped. I had known her since the 

days of the Indian council for Child Welfare 

(ICCW) that was part of my official portfolio. 

Both Smt. Tara Ali Beg and Indira Gandhi were 

very much involved with the ICCW. On one of 

my trips to the Nehru house, I asked Mrs. 

Gandhi whether she would agree to be the vice 

president. Her first question to me was who the 

president was. When I told her that it was 

Satyajit Ray, she readily agreed. 

Being in Delhi meant better opportunities for 

meetings with film personalities from Calcutta. 

I remember my first meeting with Ray. He had 

brought three reels of his film “Parash Pathar”. 

June 2012 


After the screening we met at Muriel Wasi's 

house at Pandara Road. We had a question and 

answer session. That must have been sometime 

in early 1958. I do not quite remember when I 

first met Chitu and whether I met him when I 

went to Calcutta or when he came to Delhi. All I 

remember is that by the time we met to form the 

Federation of Film Societies of India, in 1959, 

both he and his wife Supriya had become good 

friends of mine. I met their three daughters - 

Aparna, Ratna and Lakkhi later, when I took up 

my job as a censor officer in Calcutta in 1965- 

66. 

Bengalis have this unique institution of 'Adda', 

where talking, discussions reign supreme and 

no subject is barred. At one such adda in 

Calcutta, I remember Chitu reading a poem of 

Supriya's paternal uncle Jibanand Das in 

Bengali. He first read the poem in Bengali and 

then his translation of it in English. The poem 

was about one Banalata Sen of Natore. I was 

amused to see that the last line always was 

'Natorere Banalata Sen' on which he would 

pause like a dancer holding a pose. To me both 

the Bengali original and Chitu's English version 

sounded excellent. Later I discovered that he 

had the rare ability of writing equally well in 

both languages. In 1963, after I had moved to 

Mumbai, he once came and stayed with me and I 

remember being spell bound by the wealth of his 

knowledge about films, its craft and his 

understanding of the Indian way of life. He was 

a very gentle and a civilised person, with a fine 

sense of humour. I discovered that he was 

actually in Patna till 1942 though I never met 

him then. But apparently he left Patna as a result 

of the Quit India movement. 

Outwardly, Chitu looked like a boxwallha in the 

employ of the Imperial Tobacco Company; but 

he had a soul of a poet and a dreamer. He read 

assiduously and was familiar not only with 

Sanskrit and Bengali literature but had a deep 

17 

knowledge of world literature. I was appalled 

when I learnt that he had decided to quit his 

cushy job with ITC. He had a whole household 

to look after and his daughters were still 

studying; one of them Lakkhi also had lot of 

health problems. When I spoke to him about it, 

he said that he did not want to spend his life 

promoting sales of cigarettes and he and Supriya 

would try and manage. By that time, he had 

already made his first film “The Portrait of a 

City” about Calcutta under the aegis of Calcutta 

Film Society. It had rightly received some praise 

but I knew that it was not enough to put maach 

bhaat on everybody's plate. Later, when pressed 

for money, for some time, he took up a job with 

the U.S. embassy as editor of their magazine 

SPAN but he gave that up soon. He did not 

particularly like Delhi. Like Ray, Sen and 

Ghatak he was most happy when he was in 

Calcutta. Later when Aparna had established 

herself, and Ratna was married, he and Supriya 

had moved to Shanti Niketan. I had a standing 

invitation to visit them and I was planning to go 

there sometime but that never happened. They 

had to come to Calcutta for medical reasons. 

They lived with Aparna. 

Chidu with Aparna 

June 2012 


I do not have to write about his films or what he wrote. There are many who are more competent to do 

so. I want to say what I admired in him most. And that was the courage of conviction. He had no 

problems to kick up a good job if he felt it was necessary. He tried to follow his star that guided him and 

led him wherever it would. I am rather intrigued that a film that he made immediately after quitting his 

job with ITC and that I saw for certifying as a censor officer does not seem to figure anywhere in any of 

the write ups on him. Its title was 'The Crossing' and it was about a place where people take boats to 

cross a river. It was charming and thought provoking. I remember that when I congratulated him about 

it, he was very pleased. One wonders what has happened to it. It certainly would be worthwhile to 

locate it. I was in Calcutta as censor officer between 1965 and 66. So the records of the censor board 

office in Calcutta could perhaps be checked. 

Satyajit, Chitu and I were born in the same year 1921. Manik preceded me by a fortnight and Chitu 

followed me by four half months later. Of the three I am the only one on this side of the shore. A line of a 

Bengali folk song used by Manik in one of his films comes to my mind. It says, 'Hari din to gyalo 

Shandhya holo, paar karo amarei'. (Hari, the day is gone, it is now the evening. Do please take me 

across). 

*We met at 10 Allenby Road at the house of Shri. Krishna Kripalani who was then associated with Sahitya 

Academy. The six societies were: Calcutta Film Society, Delhi Film Society, Roorkee Film Society, Patna Film 

Society, Bombay Film Society, Madras Film Society, and Films Division Society. Shri. Khandpur head of the Films 

Division was present at the meeting and though that society never formally joined FFSI, Shri. Khandpur was 

extremely supportive of what we were doing. Another society called Cine Club also existed in Calcutta at that 

time but it had not joined the FFSI. 

18 

June 2012 

Vijaya Mulay 


Aruna Vasudev is Founder- 

President of the Network for the 

Promotion of Asian Cinema 

(NETPAC). She was the Founder- 

Editor of Cinemaya, and Founder- 

Director of Cinefan, the Cinemaya 

Festival of Asian Cinema. Author 

and film critic with a PhD from the 

University of Paris, she started out 

as a filmmaker before turning to 

writing on cinema – and to painting 

in the Japanese sumi-e style. She is 

the author of two books on Indian 

cinema and editor and co-editor of 

several books on Indian and Asian 

cinema. 

Chidananda Dasgupta 

- The Doyen 

Aruna Vasudev 

Given the accelerated pace at which we live our lives now, 

pioneers are rapidly and easily forgotten. And even more so in 

the world of 'entertainment', a category to which cinema has 

unfortunately been relegated. 

The launch of the film society in Calcutta by Chidananda Das 

Gupta with Satyajit Ray, Harisadan Dasgupta and a few 

others, was a revolutionary and path breaking step. Now with 

films- and internet - at one's fingertips, it is difficult to 

imagine a period when it was impossible to see anything of 

world cinema, or even Indian cinema beyond Hindi and one's 

regional language. There were not even any film festivals. A 

handful of film addicts read about what was happening in the 

world – Sight & Sound was a treasure - but the impossibility 

of gaining access to these films unless you yourself travelled 

abroad, was a source of extreme frustration. To start a film 

society where such films could indeed be shown was a step of 

magnitude in those days in the immediate post-Independence 

era. So when one says easily “Chidananda Das Gupta was a 

19 

June 2012 


pioneer” it is difficult to imagine what that 

actually signified. It was the same with his 

writing. He showed new ways of thinking, 

looking, understanding, and he inspired a 

generation of young people. 

He remains a towering figure for film critics and 

filmmakers – especially for the knowledgeable 

film buffs. Perhaps the first serious writer on 

film who became the doyen of film critics, he 

remained secretary until 1967, of both the 

Calcutta Film Society as well as the Federation 

of Film Societies when it took shape in 1960. 

With such a grounding in cinema it is hardly 

surprising to find in his writings a depth of 

knowledge and understanding of the art and 

craft of filmmaking together with a sense of the 

history and development of cinema in India and 

internationally. 

20 

Chiduda at a Festival Inauguration 

Writing on cinema, running a film society, were 

hardly professions that one could live on in 

those days. Like most educated young men of 

the time, a British company – usually in Calcutta 

- was the aimed-for ideal. Chidananda Das 

Gupta too, found his source for earning a living 

with the then Imperial Tobacco Company. When 

I first met him in the early '60s, he was the 

impeccable pucca sahib, always in a suit and tie, 

a packet of cigarettes in his hand, elegant in 

speech and thought. But the love for cinema was 

not to be denied. It took several years but 

eventually he found the courage to give it all up 

and follow his passion. However, now writing 

no longer sufficed, he had to make films 

himself. He had already made a documentary 

“Portrait of a City” in 1961. The style of 

shooting, the ambience he created, the feelings 

the film aroused, were all very new at the time. 

After he left Imperial Tobacco, he launched 

initially into making documentary films, among 

them the memorable ones on Birju Maharaj and 

a much longer one The Dance of Shiva (1968) on 

Ananda Coomaraswamy. Then came the feature 

film he had been dreaming of making – Bilet 

Pherat in 1972 Three stories, told with his 

characteristic humour, his wry approach to life. 

The title itself was a homage to the early Indian 

film director Dhiren Ganguly's satirical and 

zestful comedy England Returned. But 

filmmaking was still not a viable livelihood 

when you have a family to support. 

He did take up jobs again – some years with the 

American Centre in Delhi, then, many years 

after leaving that also to continue with writing 

and making films, with INTACH when it started 

– and where I joined him later. There he 

launched a 13- part series of films for 

Doordarshan on the Natural Heritage – Virasaat. 

One of the films we commissioned in the series 

was on Anna Hazare (directed by K Bikram 

Singh). Chitu – as he was called by those close to 

June 2012 


him – made the first film himself, on 

Cherrapunji, and I made the last one. Aravindan 

shot the title sequence of the series…. 

Through those years, he continued to write with 

restraint and wit and humour – articles as well as 

books and even translations, both prose and 

poetry, from Bengali into English. His 1980 

book The Cinema of Satyajit Ray remains one of 

the definitive works on Ray. His The Painted 

Face, opened other doors on filmmaking and in 

his last book, published very shortly before his 

death, Seeing is Believing, the essays “From The 

Crisis in Film Studies” to “How Indian is Indian 

Cinema” to “Cinema takes Over the State” 

stretch the boundaries of knowledge and incite 

the reader to raise questions rather than to 

passively receive. 

His second and last feature film Amodini, won 

his wife Supriya - a talented writer herself - the 

national award for costume design in 1994. His 

21 

family has indeed done him proud. The eldest of 

his three daughters is the celebrated actressdirector 

is Aparna Sen, his granddaughter is 

Konkona Sen Sharma. 

I tried very hard at one point, to persuade the 

Ministry of I & B, to confer the Dadasaheb 

Phalke award on him. But no. “Not for writers” 

the Ministry said. So, when I was in a position to 

do so, having started the Asian Film Festival, 

Cinefan, in Delhi in 1999 and two years later 

instituted awards, we chose to present a 

Lifetime Achievement award to a writer in 

recognition his/her role in filmmaking - as critic, 

commentator, author or script-writer. And we 

started out by presenting it first of all to 

Chidananda Das Gupta in 2004. 

June 2012 


PARIMAL MUKHERJEE is 

associated with Film Appreciation 

movement for nearly 48 years. He is 

a founder member of Cine Central, 

Calcutta and presently one of the 

Vice Presidents. He was In-charge 

of Cultural Page of a Bengali daily 

for eight years. He also edited the 

first published script of PATHER 

PANCHALI. 

Chiduda: 

Always Inspiring 

- Parimal Mukherjee 

The pioneering role of Chidananda Dasgupta in building and 

promoting film society movement in India is well known and 

no further elaboration is required from my end. But it is 

necessary to bring in to light his smiling encouragement to all 

young people who were devoted to the cause of film 

appreciation movement. 

rd 

In the mid Sixties of last century, especially just after the 3 

International Film Festival, there was an upsurge among 

young generation of this city to view world cinema. But it was 

next to impossible to get enrolled in either of the existing two 

societies. So the best alternative was to form “our own film 

society”. Thus Cine Central, Calcutta came into existence in 

1965. 

In the very first year we decided to hold Indian Film Festival. 

For this in the month of January 1966 we approached various 

persons including Chidananda Dasgupta. He was then a high 

official in the ITC and Secretary of the Federation of Film 

22 

June 2012 


Societies of India. That was our first interaction 

with him. He listened carefully our plan then 

said, “How can you do it? The idea is good but it 

is very difficult as you will not be able to get 

good quality sub-titled prints of regional films.” 

But he promised us necessary help. Remember, 

Indian Panorama was not there then. 

In the month of May, 1966 Cine Central, 

Calcutta presented a festival of Indian films 

comprising 11 regional films. Perhaps, that was 

the first occasion in India when different 

regional films were screened in a festival. True, 

some films were not subtitled and one or two 

th 

films were not of very high standard. On 10 

May, 1966 Chidananda Dasgupta came as a 

Speaker in Symposium. Other Speakers were 

Shri Dhiren Ganguly (DG), the pioneer of 

Bengali Cinema, and a galaxy of veteran film 

directors like Debaki Bose, Madhu Bose, 

Prabhat Mukherjee etc. Shri Chidananda 

Dasgupta at the outset declared, “I was skeptic 

and doubtful. But I am glad that I am proved 

wrong. Here is a film society who can achieve 

what they plan for. Film Society movement is 

not for screening foreign films alone. We 

should give more emphasis on Indian Cinema.” 

When he alighted from Podium we just hugged 

him. From that day Chidannanda Dasgupta 

became our dear Chiduda. We met him a 

number of times. On many occasions we sought 

his advice and received valuable input. He was 

always smiling and inspired us to move further. 

In 1966 we decided to bring out a quarterly 

publication entitled CINEMA. For a new 

society to publish an illustrated journal was a 

hard task as huge cost involve. But Chiduda 

helped us by providing a number of photo 

blocks of which he had used earlier in the Indian 

Film Culture. 

Let me state here, that a film society's relations 

with the parent FFSI is not always smooth. At 

one point of time in the Seventies we had serious 

23 

differences with FFSI, over the ban imposed on 

societies regarding negotiations with the 

diplomatic missions for films. We stood by the 

right of the society and fought bitterly. But 

during the entire episode our personal relations 

remain as cordial as before. 

Alok, Jiri Menzel & Chiduda at Cine Central 

Chidananda Dasgupta had graced many of our 

Functions and Ceremonies as Honored Guest, 

Chief Guest, Main Speaker etc. The fact is he 

never declined our request, so deep was our 

bonding. I feel nostalgic to remember the last 

occasion. In November 2003 we presented a 

Retrospective of renowned Czech film director 

JIRI MENZEL, who came to receive the 

Satyajit Ray Life Time Achievement Award. At 

that time Chiduda was staying in Shantiniketan, 

about 200 Kms from the city. In spite of ill 

health, he came to the city at our request to hand 

over the Award to his friend Jiri. This showed his 

love for Cinema, and his love for film society 

movement. We should emulate from this 

Pioneer of Film Society Movement. 

June 2012 


A journalist based in Kolkata, 

Ranjita Biswas writes widely on arts 

& culture, films, travel, women and 

gender issues, etc. for a number of 

n a t i o n a l a n d i n t e r n a t i o n a l 

publications. Additionally, she is 

editor of the syndicated feature 

service, Trans World Features. 

Biswas is a member of FIPRESCI 

and served as a jury member at 

international film festivals in 

Mumbai and Toronto. She also 

writes fiction and is an awardwinning 

translator of fiction from 

vernacular language into English. 

There are four published books to 

her credit. 

Chidananda Dasgupta, 

the man and the critic 

by Ranjita Biswas 

When Chidananda Dasgupta, universally addressed as 

'Chidu-da', passed away last year at the age of 89, the film 

fraternity lost an icon, literally. Critic, historian, humanist, 

and ever ready to encourage the aspiring writer, he was an 

institution, one can say without being unduly effusive. On a 

personal note, if I may share, when I came to Kolkata to settle 

down and was looking for avenues to write, he gave me a 

'break' as he must have had others. At that time he used to edit 

the Art and Culture page of The Telegraph newspaper. When I 

went to meet him- without an appointment, he readily listened 

to some of the ideas I tentatively suggested on ethnic culture 

of the North East (which he felt was a neglected area) and 

promptly gave me the assignment. For a newcomer in the city 

to get the support of a highly regarded critic and writer was 

elating indeed. Later as we got to know each other better, he 

suggested that I become a member of Fipresci and 

recommended my name. As he got on years and he was rarely 

out of home, save for attending the Kolkata Film Festival at 

Nandan sometimes, when admirers and grateful scribes like 

us went to convey a 'namaskar' he would recognize each one 

24 

June 2012 


immediately. Indeed, he wore his knowledge, 

not only about films but a wide range of 

subjects, lightly. 

It would not be an exaggeration to say that 

Dasgupta initiated the movement of serious film 

criticism in India. The winds from the West- of 

the film culture of Hollywood and Europe , was 

blowing into the intellectual milieu of 

Calcutta/Kolkata and people like Satyajit Ray, 

Harisadhan Dasgupta, Bansi Dasgupta and he 

himself had their own hub to discuss art, 

literature, film et al. The arrival of Jean Renoir 

in Calcutta for shooting The River was a 

momentous occasion for film lovers like them. 

Ray recalled in Our Films, Their Films how he 

went to meet Renoir with apprehension how he 

would be received. But the encounter led to an 

instant rapport between them as it happened 

with Chidananda Dasgupta too. 

Veteran cinematographer Ramanada Sengupta, 

who also became a unit member with Renoir, 

recalled in an article in a Bengali magazine: 

“Renoir used to stay at the Great Eastern 

Hotel…Chidananda Dasgupta and Satyajit Ray 

often went there on way home after office for an 

adda. Renoir told them how he conceived the 

Bengal landscape - the background of his film, 

and what he liked about the land and he also 

asked their opinion on his assessment. They too 

expressed their views frankly. All three of them 

were extremely gifted people.” 

25 

Chidanand Dasgupta 

at Cine Club of Calcutta 

Sengupta also recalled that he, along with 

other film buffs arrived at the doorstep of 

Chidananda Dasgupta's house every 

weekend. There was a room on top of the 

garage where discussions on films went on 

for hours. Satyajit Ray was a regular too at 

these meets. 

By that time Ray and Dasgupta had 

established the Calcutta Film Society 

(1947). Though Bombay/Mumbai had 

already launched two film societies, one in 

1937 and another in 1942, they really did not 

turn into a movement. Dasgupta, Ray and 

likeminded people wanted to change that. 

With a princely sum of Rs 5.00 per month 

for membership and under the presidentship 

of economist Prasanta Mahalanobis, the 

founder of Indian Statistical Institute, the 

Society started functioning with 50 

members. Dasgupta was a founder member 

of the Federation of Film Societies too in 

1959. He also made a few documentaries 

and two critically acclaimed features Bilet 

Pherat and Amodini. 

Besides the hundreds of articles he wrote on 

film and other subjects, Dasgupta authored 

books like Talking About Films (1981), The 

Cinema of Satyajit Ray (1980) and The 

Painted Face – Studies in India's Popular 

Cinema (1991) all of which have now 

become essential reading for students of 

cinema and film aficionados. 

Going through his books and writings one 

cannot but help marveling at his in-depth 

analysis and keen observation. He took film 

criticism to a different level in India and set 

a standard for others to emulate. 

June 2012 


His sharp observation about Bengali films 

till Pather Panchali (1955) happened 

illustrate his keen understanding of the 

medium: “In the thirties, the Bengali cinema 

displayed some signs of reformist 

patriotism but its main anchor was in 

traditionalism. Its social-reformist 

patriotism deals were not based on a 

pervasive world view. As a result, its style 

never developed the independent view of 

cinema as an art free of the baggage of 

literature that Rabindranath Tagore had 

urged upon it. Its links with world cinema 

were indeed limited by the violation 

imposed by British rule and by the problem 

of language in the talkie; but apart from 

these outward difficulties, there was no 

movement within it to break out of its 

confines which were basically selfimposed. 

Thus neither in content nor in style 

did Ray's films own anything at all to 

Bengali, indeed Indian film traditions. That 

is why he was able to cut the Gordian knot 

with the one stroke of Pather Panchali and 

thereafter to follow his own thoroughly 

independent course.” 

Such level of film criticism with a deep 

understanding of the social context is rare to 

come by in the Indian scenario. Not for 

nothing that Dasgupta was conferred with 

the Lifetime Achievement Award for Best 

Writing at the Sixth Osian's Cinefan 

Festival of Asian Cinema, 2004. This was 

the first ever Lifetime Achievement Award 

to have been conferred on a film critic and 

scholar. At that time he had said in an 

interview: “I am getting this award at a time 

when film criticism is almost dying out in 

India. We spent our lives teaching people 

the value and worth of cinema. When we 

26 

first asked for government help to form the 

first film society, the official at the ministry 

said, 'Film society, what's that?” But he also 

acknowledged that things had changed 

afterwards. 

Dasgupta often said that though he had the 

opportunity to travel around the world, and 

interact with filmmakers internationally and 

his books on cinema were rather broadbased, 

he tended to zero on Indian cinema. 

His sense of rootedness is similar to his 

friend Satyajit Ray. In his book The Cinema 

of Satyajit Ray, he writes: “Ray was a 

classicist, an inheritor of a traditional Indian 

approach to art in which beauty is 

inseparable from truth and goodness. 

Despite his fine understanding of a very 

wide range of Western culture-which Jean 

Renoir in 1949 used to find 'fantastic' – it is 

his Indianness which gives him his value for 

India and for the medium imported from the 

West in which he worked.” 

His knowledge of the “Western' medium of 

visual art i.e. cinema, was deep and 

perceptive. Rooted in Bengal, and more 

affiliated to the genre of 'art film' in absence 

of better terminology for films grounded to 

reality, he was by no means cocooned from 

the milieu of commercial cinema. Wellknown 

writer and critic Yves Thoraval calls 

him “One of the most brilliant Indian critics 

and historians of Indian cinema” (The 

Cinemas of India). In the book Thoraval 

writes how Dasgupta perceived Hindi 

commercial films , as “…All India Films' 

[which] appeared after the War, by which he 

meant the Hindi films being produced in 

mass quantity and their regional 

counterparts…” 

June 2012 


“The best years in the profession were those 

when the Indian cinema itself was coming 

of age,” feels film critic Swapan Mullick 

(article “Powers and Pitfalls of the Critic”). 

“Those were the years when the film society 

movement was born in Kolkata with 

Satyajit Ray and Chidananda Dasgupta 

writing on the cinema with as much 

excitement as they were writing film scripts 

and looking forward to the day when they 

would break out of the traditional mould of 

the studio-production so as to give films in 

this country a language of their own.” 

27 

That passion and excitement, many 

observe, is on the wane today. In a paper, 

The Black Hole of Indian Film Criticism 

Dasgupta had pointed out what he felt was 

lacking among Indian film critics at present 

times. Indeed, for self-examination and for 

appreciating the depth of his art of criticism 

one needs reading and re-reading his 

writings. 

June 2012 


(Dan Fainaru has been a film critic 

for the last fifty years, he is a 

honorary vice president of 

FIPRESCI, he has been the director 

of the Israeli Film Institute, he has 

written film reviews for several 

Israeli publications, he is the coeditor 

of the only professional film 

magazine in Israel (Cinematheque) 

and the editor in chief of the 

European Film Reviews, also a 

critic for Variety, Moving Pictures, 

International Film Guide, and have 

been for the last ten years or more a 

film critic for Screen International. 

The University of Mississippi has 

published his book of interviews 

with Theo Angelopoulos) 

Theo Angelopoulos 

In Memoriam 

- Theo Angelopoulos 

by Dan Fainaru 

Theo Angelopoulos died on the set of his last film, The Other 

Sea in the late afternoon of January 24, 2012. The sun, 

whatever there was of it on that chilly winter day, was 

practically gone, the light was murky and grey and a misty 

shroud covered the port of Piraeus. He was walking 

backwards, lost in his thoughts, tracing the path the camera 

would take in his next shot. Retreating slowly, he never 

looked behind, immersed as he was in his own thoughts, 

visualizing the film which seemed more real than anything 

else around him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a policeman 

riding his scooter rushes into the frame, that is the frame of 

real life, and hit him, as if the Angel of Death who had decided 

to take a hand in the proceedings. Was it really like this that it 

all happened? I don't really know, but I would like to think so, 

at least to make some sense out of this senseless, foolish, 

infuriating accident, make it look like an ominous sequence 

shot in an Angelopoulos film. I'd like to believe that in some 

sort of way, it fits into the existence of this extraordinary man, 

no doubt one of the greatest filmmakers of our times. 

28 

June 2012 


Theo Angelopoulos was born on April 27, 1935, 

in a middleclass family. He was supposed to 

become a lawyer, but quit to go to France and 

study cinema at what used to be at the time the 

most significant film school in the world, the 

Paris IDHEC (Institut de Hautes Etudes 

Cinematographiques). After one year, he was 

asked to take a walk, his conception of cinema 

considered unacceptable by some of the 

teachers. Rightly so, for he never thought 

cinema in the same terms as everybody else. 

Instead, under the protective gaze of the 

legendary Henri Langlois, he became an usher 

at the French Cinematheque, an unexpected 

chance for him to see all the classics which he 

dearly loved, without paying the admission, 

which anyway he could not afford at the time. 

Back in Greece, he kept going to films and he 

wrote reviews for a publication named 

"Democratic Change", while trying to put 

together a never-released documentary on a 

band called the Forminx (1965). Then came his 

first feature, The Reconstitution (1970), and the 

world of cinema, certainly of Greek cinema was 

never the same. Black and white, shot in a 

mountain village in the north of the country, it 

was a police investigation into the murder of a 

Greek man working in Germany, who had come 

back home to visit his wife. Stark scenery, bare 

29 

Theo Angelopoulos 

and arid landscape, cold winter lighting, gritty 

characters, a portrait of the economically 

devastated Greek countryside, already 

announcing not only some of the major themes 

Angelopoulos would explore for the rest of his 

life but also the complex film language he would 

further develop and employ in his later pictures. 

On the one hand, the state of his own homeland 

and the migratory syndrome, sending people 

away from their homes to chase the mirage of a 

better life elsewhere, on the other hand, the long, 

complex, breathtaking sequence shots, deep 

long breaths which kept the audience hanging 

on every turn and twist of the camera. That is, 

some of the audience, for the rest never could 

quite cope with his kind of fractured narrative 

that never told them all the details and God 

forbid, expected them to use their own 

imagination and fill in the gaps. Angelopoulos 

was already announcing his intention to trust the 

intelligence of his viewers, and their readiness 

to be active participants who would meet him 

halfway. And if they won't, so much the worse 

for them, he did not intend to change. 

Next came his trilogy, Days of 36 (1972), The 

Travelling Players (1975) and The Hunters 

(1977), digging deeply into recent Greek 

history, the years preceding WW2, the war and 

the ensuing civil war and its tragic results. The 

Travelling Players, the trilogy's centerpiece in 

every sense of the word, confirmed 

Angelopoulos' unique position at the forefront 

of modern cinema, with its assured style, its 

sophisticated mixture of political observations 

and sheer poetry, breathtaking visual 

imagination and an entirely new way of telling a 

story. He looked at modern Greece as a 

reflection of its ancient myths, legends and 

history, the cursed tales of the house of Atreus 

and the shadow of Homer a constant reference in 

all his films, a 20th century echo of Euripides 

and Aeschylus. 

Very much a man of his time, deeply rooted in 

the Greek soil, growing up in the midst of 

constant turmoil, never hiding his sympathy for 

the left and the necessity of a revolution that 

would change the face of the world, 

Angelopoulos was for a while one of those who 

June 2012 


looked eastward for the emergence of new 

gospels. But by the time he made O 

Megalexandros (1980), the story of a failed 

peasant revolt and its fiery leader, he was 

beginning to waver, shocked by the corrupting 

effect of power which shattered the bestintentioned 

principles. Voyage to Cythera 

(1984) and The Beekeeper (O melissokomes, 

1986), were both heartbreaking portraits of 

idealists deprived of their ideals, Landscape in 

the Mist (1988) offered a desolate image of 

Greece helplessly seeking its salvation 

elsewhere. The Suspended Step of the Stork 

(1991) clearly announced the theme that was to 

preoccupy him for the rest of his life: the vast, 

ever-growing masses of refugees, victims of 

political upheavals and economic catastrophes, 

homeless, nationless crowds looking for a 

shelter they are consistently denied. With 

Ulysses' Gaze(1995) he fully crossed the 

borders out of his own homeland and put to 

sleep, once and for all, his communist illusions 

in the magnificent funeral cortege of Lenin's 

statue prostrate on a Danube barge, and painted 

the war-torn Balkans in all their misery. Many 

believed the film deserved Cannes' Golden 

Palm, Jeanne Moreau's jury that year thought 

otherwise, but at least the festival paid its dues 

the next time around, when Eternity and a 

Day(1998) got the main award. 

In The Weeping Meadow (2004) and the 

following The Dust of Time (2008) (two parts of 

a trilogy that was never completed), 

Angelopoulos summed up the entire 20th 

century, in his own way, painting not only 

30 

personal despair, anguish and tragedies, but also 

the ideological calamities which shook the 

world through it. The Other Sea was supposed to 

be his first glimpse at the Third Millennium and 

its moral conundrums and again, no silver lining 

to the numerous clouds in sight, either. 

But if ideas can be expressed in words, there is 

another dimension in Theo Angelopoulos' films 

that goes much further, those magic moments of 

pure emotion which no words can describe, 

recurring again and again, a poetry of the image 

in time that very few, if any other filmmaker, 

achieved. An old man and an old woman on a 

raft drifting away from the shore in Voyage to 

Cythera, a shocking, silent rape scene, where all 

you see is the back of a truck and yet you know 

exactly what's going on in Landscape in the 

Mist, the ceasefire in the fog in Ulysses' Gaze, 

the bus ride in Eternity and the Day, the flight 

from the flooded villages in The Weeping 

Meadow, Michel Piccoli entering a Berlin bar at 

one end and coming out, years later, at the other 

end, all in one shot, in The Dust of Time. 

Disparate, random choices out of countless 

examples, for every Angelopoulos sequence 

shot was a unique event on its own. Shortly 

before he died, the great Russian cellist, 

musician an humanist Mstislav Rostropovich 

said death doesn't worry him, for he knows that 

his dear friends Prokofiev, Shostakovich and 

Britten will be waiting for him on the other side. 

Hopefully, Theo Angelopoulos is now 

discussing the affairs of this world and the next 

one, with his dear Kurosawa and Antonioni. He 

hasn't lost that much, we have. 

June 2012 


Dariush Mehrjui's Leila (1998) and 

Asghar Farhadi's A Separation (2011): 

A Comparison 

MK Raghavendra is a film critic and 

a scholar. He received the National 

Award (the Swarna Kamal) for best 

film critic in the year 1997. He was 

awarded a two-year Homi Bhabha 

Fellowshipin2000-01toresearch 

into Indian popular film narrative as 

well as a Goethe Insitut Fellowship 

in 2000. He has published three 

books on cinema hitherto - Seduced 

by the Familiar: Narration and 

Meaning in Indian popular Cinema 

(Oxford University Press, 2008), 50 

Indian Film Classics (Harper 

Collins, 2009) and Bipolar Identity: 

Region, Nation and the Kannada 

Language Film, (Oxford University 

Press), 2011. In the recently 

concluded Bengaluru International 

Film Festival (Dec 15-22, 2011) 

there was a package of Dariush's 

films (with his presence) and two 

films of Asghar Farhadi About Elly 

and A Separation which won the 

Oscar later. These films formed 

main attraction and they were 

received very well by the largely 

attended delegates. Mr.MKR makes 

an interesting analysis of the two 

films Leila and A Separation. 

M.K.Raghavendra 

An art film is the result of filmmaking as a serious, 

independent undertaking aimed at a niche rather than mass 

market. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Art_film - cite_note-0 

Film scholars typically define 'art films' through those formal 

qualities that mark them as different from mainstream 

Hollywood films, which includes, among other things, a 

narrative dwelling upon the real problems of everyday life, an 

emphasis on the authorial expressivity of the director rather 

than generic convention and a focus on the subjectivity of the 

characters rather than on plot. If the art film finds it difficult to 

reach wide audiences, the place where it thrives is the 

international film festival in which films that rarely get public 

releases are shown to a discerning public. But the unfortunate 

fallout of this is perhaps that filmmakers eyeing international 

acclaim can make their films virtually to fit a formula as this 

brief examination of two key films from Iran tries to show. 

Both these films have been acclaimed internationally, with 

Asghar Farhadi's film hailed as a masterpiece and universally 

cited as among the best films of 2011. 

31 

June 2012 


In Leila, the eponymous heroine (Leila Hatami) 

marries Reza (Ali Mosaffa) and the two 

obviously love each other. They plan on having 

children – 'several' is Leila's wish. As luck will 

have it, however, Leila finds out that she is 

barren although Reza is normal. There are not so 

many options available to them because 

adopting a child is time consuming and difficult. 

Reza tells Leila that he is perfectly willing not to 

have children but his mother starts putting other 

thoughts into Leila's head. If Reza does not have 

children their line will die out is the mother's 

primary fear. Leila knows that Reza married her 

for herself and not to have children but a few 

stray remarks in which he indicated his desire to 

have children resurfaces. In due course Leila 

finds herself actively collaborating in a plan by 

which Reza will marry again. Reza is 

completely unwilling but Leila joins hands with 

his mother and he finds himself less and less 

able to resist. Mehrjui sets up several touching 

sequences in which Reza and Leila discuss his 

forthcoming marriage almost flippantly and the 

deep irony is that this is likely to deeply affect 

the love they have for each other. In due course 

Reza finds a woman who is suitable and Leila 

consents to the wedding – a condition made by 

Reza. The two are married but Leila is unable to 

bear this and goes away to her mother's house. 

Reza tries to get her back but is unable to 

persuade her. Reza's new wife gives birth to a 

daughter and, since the purpose of their union 

has been fulfilled, they divorce and she marries 

someone else and is set up in a new home 

32 

Leila 

provided by the affluent Reza. Their child is 

now to be looked after by Reza's mother. Leila, 

however, has been estranged forever and she 

refuses to return to the man who still loves her. 

Leila 

The New York Times described Leila as 

'devastating' and indeed it will be to Western 

audiences – to whom love and marriage are till 

'death does them apart'. Divorce rates in the 

West are climbing all the time and they are even 

becoming lucrative – especially when there is 

no pre-nuptial agreement. Still, cinema 

(especially from Hollywood) deals with love 

and marriage as through only one 'true' love is 

possible in one lifetime. When a story deals with 

a second marriage, there is always an effort to 

designate one love as 'truer' than another. Two 

previously married persons who become 

romantically attached are treated as people who 

finally 'find love' after incessantly searching for 

an ideal companion all their lives. My argument 

here is that this view of love cannot be equally 

applicable to a society like Iran's in which 

marriage is not a sacrament but a contract and 

where divorce is also easier. My sense here is 

that since there is little clamor in Islamic 

societies against polygamy, even Iranian 

women who love their husbands are unlikely to 

look upon a spouse's second marriage as the 

stuff of tragedy. I suggest that in a society in 

which there are no strictures against polygamy, 

'love' will not carry the same connotations that it 

does in Hollywood. Since notions like 'love' are 

June 2012 


socially constructed and do not carry the same 

connotations everywhere, why is Dariush 

Mehrjui making a tragedy out of Leila and 

Reza's story? My sense is that he is 'reporting' 

on Iranian society to Western audiences who 

can be expected to bring their own values into 

their reading of the film instead of regarding it as 

specific to the Iranian context. To draw a 

parallel, an arranged marriage in India is not 

only commonplace but legitimate and although 

Westerners often react with horror to the notion, 

a filmmaker who treats it as a social calamity/ 

evil – for their benefit – would be 

opportunistically casting doubt on the 

legitimacy of a local institution simply to suit 

the sentiments of an international audience. 

Winning the Palme d'Or at Cannes would not 

undo the fact that such an exercise would be 

dishonest. One must perhaps address one's own 

society before one addresses international art 

cinema audiences and this is apparently not 

what Mehrjui is doing. 

The 'tragedy' in Leila is heightened by the fact 

that Leila Hatami and Ali Mostaffa make a very 

handsome couple. Love stories often rely on the 

strategy of pairing off between the physically 

most appealing man and woman in the story and 

this strategy is used by Mehrjui as well although 

his film hardly convinces that there is a genuine 

intimacy between husband and wife. Leila 

Hatami is stunningly beautiful and she appears 

once again in Asghar Farhadi's A Separation 

with another extremely handsome male actor 

Peyman Maadi, who is almost a dead ringer for 

Ali Mostaffa. A Separation begins with Nader 

and Simin trying to get a divorce. There is no 

animosity between them but Simin wants to 

leave the country to get her daughter better 

opportunities while Nader refuses to leave 

because he needs to look after his father, who is 

suffering from Alzheimer's. Simin wants a 

divorce only because Nader is adamant about 

staying on and she cannot leave while being 

married to him. Their appearance in the family 

court is inconclusive because the judge decides 

that the disagreement is too trivial for a divorce. 

Simin now arranges for a servant woman to 

33 

come every day and look after Nader's father. 

The woman Rajieh is poor and takes up the job 

although she does this without consulting her 

husband Houjat, as she is required to because 

her work involves cleaning a man. She tries to 

get Houjat to work instead – without revealing 

that she worked there first – but Houjat's 

creditors pounce on him and contrive to get him 

put into jail. Rajieh therefore returns and takes 

up the job of tending to Nader's father once 

again. 

A Separation 

Things go well initially but Rajieh has problems 

dealing with the old man who soils himself 

constantly. She also finds him missing when the 

door is open and locates him in the street 

hundreds of yards away. One day, when Nader 

and his daughter return home, they find the door 

locked and Rajieh absent. Nader's father has 

been tied to the bed but he has slipped out, fallen 

and injured himself. Rajieh returns a short while 

later and apologizes. She had to leave on some 

urgent work, she says without revealing what it 

was. But Nader still sacks her and also accuses 

her of stealing money although we in the 

audience have seen that the money was taken by 

Simin to pay some movers the previous day. 

When Rajieh demands money for her exertions, 

Nader pushes her out roughly. The next 

morning, Nader finds that Rajieh and her 

husband have brought a case of assault and 

murder against him. She was apparently 

pregnant and lost her child when he pushed her 

and she 'fell down the stairs'. The unborn child 

was over four months old and that makes it 

murder. 

June 2012 


A Separation works by enlisting our sympathy 

for everyone in it. Simin and Rajieh come closer 

when Simin understands the poor woman's 

difficulties. Nader is a good man but he lies 

when he tells the court that he didn't know about 

her pregnancy and he is caught out. Rajieh's 

husband has fewer scruples than she has and 

wants to use the opportunity to get some money. 

But he is also in serious trouble and the director 

gets some sympathy for him as well. But the 

crux of the matter is that Rajieh lied when she 

blamed Nader for the loss of her child. She was 

hit by a vehicle when she was retrieving Nader's 

father from the street the previous afternoon and 

that actually caused the miscarriage. In any 

case, Nader agrees to pay blood money for the 

dead child but when he insists that Rajieh swear 

on the Quran that he was responsible for the 

child's death, she is unable to do so. Simin's 

daughter knows that her mother will never go 

abroad on her own and the film ends on an open 

note with the daughter having to make up her 

mind in court on which parent she will go with. 

A Separation is brilliantly made; it has the 

authenticity of real life and no one in it even 

seems to be acting. But there are some aspects to 

the film that cast doubt on its value as a 

commentary on Iranian society. While the film 

includes a large amount of detail – how a certain 

part of the populace lives and even on some 

legal/ social issues in Iran – one does not get a 

sense of how Iranian society is constituted – its 

social structure, the exercise of power etc. The 

34 

A Separation 

portrayal of the court (as in Abbas Kiarostami's 

Close-Up – 1990) virtually establishes the 

Iranian state as the most reasonable of arbiters. 

If Rajieh and Nader belong to different classes, 

the classes themselves are not in conflict 

although individuals belonging to them may 

squabble. Rajieh being unable to swear on the 

Quran about the cause of her child's death is also 

problematic, not least because it furnishes the 

film with a moral resolution mediated by the 

official religion – and by implication, the 

theocratic state. 

A Separation 

From my description of the film it should also be 

evident that Nader and Simin's divorce is not the 

central issue in A Separation. It is only the issue 

which sparks off another kind of conflict to 

which it is not intrinsically related. This being 

the case, one is left wondering why the title of 

the film privileges their separation. As in Leila, 

the two protagonists make a handsome couple 

and since neither of them bears any animosity 

towards the other, the film is bound to have 

audiences – accustomed to monogamous 

heterosexuality as the standard in family stories 

– wishing that the two come together again. The 

single issue keeping Simin and Nader apart 

revolves around whether the two should remain 

in Iran or emigrate. Once this issue is defined as 

the key one, the director perhaps introduces the 

second story to illustrate what the two might do 

well to escape from. My sense is that 

international audiences are deliberately made to 

follow Nader's emotional trajectory and learn 

about daily living conditions in Iran through his 

June 2012 


'education'. In order to facilitate our education 

about issues in Iran, Nader is made innocent of 

the daily issues that an Iranian might be wellversed 

in and he appears to learn about them. 

Each society lives by its own rules governing 

daily life which will appear strange to outsiders. 

If the rules governing daily life in the US are not 

strange to us it is because we have been kept 

informed of them through American films, the 

media and our own kith and kin who have tried 

to make their lives there. It is perhaps the 

hegemonic influence of American culture which 

makes American values more 'universal' than 

those of, say, Lapland and not any aspect 

intrinsic to it. The best films from an unfamiliar 

culture – like, say Yasujiro Ozu's work – do not 

deliberately inform outsiders of how local 

people live but expect that the issues dealt with 

will be universal in some sense. It is in the 

context that Farhadi's method in A Separation, 

which is to deliberately estrange Iran from us, 

becomes suspect and as in the case of Mehrjui's 

Leila, the director appears to be reporting on his 

own society to outsiders who are additionally 

awakened to the 'tragedy' of a man who cannot 

emigrate from his own land. Rather than take the 

position of a critical insider – perhaps the only 

legitimate and honorable one for an artist in any 

society – Farhadi's film pays lip service to the 

legitimacy of the culture it is set in but also 

suggests that escape from it would be the best 

35 

course. One gets the sense of a society difficult 

to live as in Slumdog Millionaire although A 

Separation is not made by someone foreign to 

Iran. 

It is common knowledge that there is large scale 

repression in Iran and while censorship will be 

blamed for its portrayal of Iranian society, 

censorship may not be entirely culpable here. 

China has a repressive society as well but with 

all the censorship in that country, a director like 

Zhang Ke Jia (Still Life, 2006) can still give us 

profoundly disquieting insights into the social 

processes under way in China. Iranian cinema – 

of the kind celebrated at film festivals – has 

consistently neglected to give us incisive 

portraits of life at home and when directors like 

Abbas Kiarostami suggest tyranny (Where is my 

Friend's Home, 1987) or class divisions 

(Through the Olive Trees, 1994) they also 

provide comforting resolutions that effectively 

negate these suggestions. 'Censorship is the 

origin of metaphor,' wrote Jorge Luis Borges but 

A Separation does not even use metaphor in the 

service of excavating social or political truths 

about Iran although it does its best to suggest 

that escape to the West would be the best course 

for a liberal Iranian national today. 

June 2012 

MK Raghavendra 


(David Sterritt was a longtime 

member of the New York Film 

Festival selection committee. He is 

currently chairman of the National 

Society of Film Critics, chief book 

critic of Film Quarterly, and an 

editorial board member of 

Quarterly Review of Film and 

Video. He is past chair of the 

Columbia University Seminar on 

Cinema and Interdisciplinary 

Interpretation and has written for 

Cahiers du cinéma, The Journal of 

Aesthetics and Art Criticism, New 

Review of Film and Television 

Studies, Hitchcock Annual, and 

many other publications. His books 

include screening the Beats: Media 

Culture and the Beat Sensibility 

(2004), Guiltless Pleasures: A David 

Sterritt Film Reader (2005), and 

The Honeymooners (2009) : for 

more details: 

http://www.davidsterritt.com/ , In 

this essay , Mr. Sterritt traces the 

history of the ' film festival', its 

genesis and growth. Kind courtesy: 

FIPRESCI International.) 

Film Festivals 

- Then and Now 

By David Sterritt 

Nobody knows who first uttered the term "film festival," and 

its near-universal use probably stems more from its 

alliterative lilt than from its descriptive precision. Most film 

festivals have festive elements, of course — glitzy opening 

ceremonies, guest shots by celebrities, and so forth. But for 

the movie buffs, industry insiders, and journalists who make 

up their main audiences, festivals call for prolonged and 

intensive activity including long hours of screenings, press 

conferences, q&a sessions, and networking with like-minded 

professionals and fans. 

Beyond this it's hard to generalize. Some festivals are 

regional, focusing on movies with limited ambitions and 

drawing primarily local audiences. Others are national or 

international, drawing attendees from near and far with 

pictures from many lands. Some showcase hundreds of titles, 

while others limit their slates to a modest number of 

rigorously selected entries. Some are eclectic; others target 

specific genres or formats. Some give prizes; others do not. 

36 

June 2012 


Events of all kinds have been known to thrive, 

so there are no strict rules. The only requirement 

for film-festival organizing is an ability to intuit 

what the free market of cinema enthusiasm will 

currently bear. 

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde 

The first film festival per se was a direct result of 

Italian dictator Benito Mussolini's enthusiasm 

for movies as a propaganda tool. Eager to 

cultivate state-run Italian cinema in the face of 

foreign competition, he spent lavishly to build 

up the native film industry while heavily taxing 

the dubbing of foreign-language movies. One of 

the projects he supported, the Biennial 

Exhibition of Italian Art, gave birth in 1932 to 

the International Exhibition of Cinemato- 

graphic Art in Venice intended to make the 

Biennial more varied and multidisciplinary. Its 

first program began with the premiere of 

Rouben Mamoulian's horror classic Dr. Jekyll 

and Mr. Hyde and continued with twenty-four 

additional entries from seven countries - among 

them James Whale's Frankenstein, Aleksandr 

Dovzhenko's Earth, René Clair's À nous la 

liberté, and Edmund Goulding's Grand Hotel. 

37 

Benito Mussolini 

The exhibition's stated intention was to shine 

"the light of art over the world of commerce," 

but power politics were a major subtext of the 

event, which became a yearly festival in 1935, 

presenting official prizes in place of the 

popularity poll and "participation diploma" of 

the 1932 program. These prizes may themselves 

have amounted to a popularity poll, however, 

with fascists heavily favored to win: Domestic 

movies competed for a Best Italian Film award, 

and pictures from Nazi Germany — an Italian 

ally at the time — won the Best Foreign Film 

prize four times between 1936 and 1942. Even 

more incestuously, Leni Riefenstahl's epic 

documentary Olympia, which presents the 1936 

Olympics as a showcase for Aryan supremacy, 

shared the Mussolini Cup in 1938 with an Italian 

drama about a fascist soldier, and it just so 

happened that Il Duce's oldest son was credited 

as "supervisor" of the latter film. Americans and 

Brits quit the festival jury when these awards 

were announced. French participants also 

walked out, partly because of the Mussolini Cup 

decisions and partly because they were still 

fuming over an incident the previous year, when 

festival honchos vetoed a top prize for Jean 

Renoir's 1937 war drama The Grand Illusion. 

June 2012 


Cannes opens, closes, and reopens 

After the Grand Illusion brouhaha, French 

cineastes struck back with a new festival meant 

to outdo and overshadow its tainted Italian 

counterpart. A committee went to work on the 

project, recruiting éminence grise Louis 

Lumière as president. Overcoming fear of 

Mussolini's anger, the French government 

agreed to provide funding, and the French 

Riviera city of Cannes was chosen as the venue. 

Other film festivals had sprung up in Europe by 

this time, but it was Cannes that established such 

events as staples of modern culture. Its 1939 

debut took place in September — organizers 

hoped to prolong the tourist season by a couple 

of weeks — with two of the year's major 

Hollywood productions, Howard Hawks's Only 

Angels Have Wings and Victor Fleming's The 

Wizard of Oz, on the program. Norma Shearer, 

Gary Cooper, Mae West, Tyrone Power, and 

Douglas Fairbanks were on the "steamship of 

stars" sent to Cannes by Hollywood's mighty 

MGM studio, and a cardboard model of the 

Nôtre-Dame cathedral was erected on the beach, 

heralding William Dieterle's version of The 

Hunchback of Notre Dame as the opening-night 

attraction. 

In a shocking twist, however, the opening film 

was the only film to be screened: Germany's 

invasion of Poland that very day (1 September) 

led the festival to close its doors only hours after 

they had opened. They didn't open again until 

September 1946, when the festival restarted 

with a program that proved highly successful 

(despite the showing of Alfred Hitchcock's 

Notorious with the reels scrambled). The next 

two years were difficult — England and the 

Soviet Union were absent in 1947, and in 1948 

the program was cancelled — but in 1951 

Cannes became a reliable yearly event, with its 

timeslot changed to spring, when more major 

movies are available. 

New York, Tokyo, Ouagadougou, and beyond 

Festivals proliferated during the 1950s, and 

politics kept chugging away below the surface 

of some. When the ambitious Berlin festival 

38 

began in 1951, for instance, it presented itself as 

a meeting ground between East and West as the 

cold war climbed into high gear; but until 1975, 

no Eastern bloc nation would officially 

participate. The most important debut of the 

1960s was the New York Film Festival, founded 

in 1963 at Lincoln Center, one of the city's 

leading cultural venues. Modeled to some extent 

after the London Film Festival, the New York 

event focused mainly on art films from Europe 

and Japan, documentaries, and avant-garde 

movies. Unlike the heavily programmed 

festivals at Cannes and Berlin, the New York 

festival showed a limited quantity of films — 

about two dozen features and a similar number 

of shorts — and it awarded no prizes, reasoning 

that its selective nature made every work shown 

there a "winner." The event has broadened its 

scope over the years, adding more special 

screenings and sidebar programs, including an 

annual weekend of avant-garde cinema. It 

remains noncompetitive, however, and 

considers itself a "public festival" where the 

audience consists primarily of movie buffs 

rather than the large contingents of film 

professionals who attend larger-scale festivals. 

The 1970s brought two key events. The first was 

the 1976 debut of the Toronto International Film 

Festival, originally called the Festival of 

Festivals because it specialized in importing 

films from other such events. It had a setback in 

its first year when Hollywood studios decided to 

withdraw their contributions, apparently 

considering the Toronto audience base too 

parochial. The joke was on Hollywood, 

however. In subsequent years Toronto grew into 

one of the most comprehensive film events in 

the world, presenting a sweeping array of 

international art films, domestic productions, 

and (ironically) more Hollywood products than 

are likely to be found in any comparable venue. 

No prizes are bestowed at the Toronto festival, 

although an independent jury administered by 

the International Federation of Film Critics 

gives a single award for the best work by a 

debuting filmmaker. (More commonly known 

by its European acronym, FIPRESCI, this 

organization establishes prize-giving juries, 

June 2012 


composed of film critics, at many festivals 

around the world. It also publishes 

Undercurrent, the online magazine you are 

reading now.) 

The other big development of the 1970s was the 

founding of the United States Film Festival, set 

up in Salt Lake City by the Utah Film 

Commission to promote the state as a film 

production site. In its first three years it 

concentrated on retrospectives, discussion 

sessions, and independent films sought out 

through a nationwide competition. In 1981 it 

moved to the smaller community of Park City 

and sought ways to increase its visibility and 

influence. It was acquired in 1985 by actor 

Robert Redford and the four-year-old Sundance 

Institute, which Redford had established to 

foster filmmaking outside the Hollywood 

system. Renamed the Sundance Film Festival in 

1989, it became an eagerly covered media event 

as well as a wide-ranging discovery spot for 

independent and international productions. 

Alongside the famous world-class festivals, 

more modest events have sprung up by the score 

— more than 1,000 of them worldwide, 

according to a New York Times estimate. The 

time is long past when the United States and 

Europe had a corner on the market, as is well 

known to anyone who's attended the Shanghai, 

Tokyo, or Pusan festivals in Asia, the 

Ouagadougou festival in Burkina Faso, or many 

others around the globe. 

Success breeds success 

It's as hard to summarize the nature of film 

festivals as it is to count them. By common 

consensus, Cannes is the most important — 

because of its age, because of its size, and 

because success breeds success. (The festival 

considered most influential is most influential 

for that very reason.) Cannes divides its 

programs into several categories. The 

predominant one is the Competition, 

comprising about two dozen features, many of 

them directed by established auteurs. Films 

directed by favored newcomers, including 

actors with Cannes credentials on the order of 

39 

Johnny Depp (The Brave, 1997) and Vincent 

Gallo (The Brown Bunny, 2003), also make their 

way into the Competition from time to time, 

although the results in those cases were 

disastrous. The main sidebar program, Un 

Certain Regard ("A Certain Look"), focuses on 

movies by newer or less-known talents. Two 

other series operate outside the festival's formal 

boundaries: the International Critics Week, 

where selections are chosen by a panel of critics, 

and the Directors' Fortnight, founded in 1969 to 

compete with the official festival, which was 

interrupted in the politically charged year of 

1968 by protests involving François Truffaut, 

Jean-Luc Godard, and other activists of the new 

wave period. These programs coexist peacefully 

with the festival and the concurrent Film 

Market, established in 1960 as a place where 

producers, distributors, exhibitors, and others 

involved in the circulation of new movies can 

meet, network, and do business. 

Overall attendance at Cannes is skewed heavily 

toward film professionals, including film 

journalists and critics, who attend press 

screenings beginning at 8:30 every morning and 

proceeding until well into the night. Prizes are 

awarded by a jury of directors, producers, 

performers, screenwriters, and other notables. 

The jury announces its awards on the final day, 

sometimes startling other attendees with its 

decisions — as when Bruno Dumont's 

idiosyncratic French production L'Humanité 

(1999) won three awards, including the Grand 

Prize of the Jury, after being booed and jeered 

during its press screening. The highest prizes at 

Cannes, especially the Palme d'Or, are seen as 

the most prestigious of all motion-picture 

honors except the Academy Awards. 

Madness, tortured artists, Krazy Kat 

Festivals with lower profiles, from the 

interestingly specialized to the deservedly 

obscure, are also plentiful. No fewer than thirty 

abide in New York City alone. Others across 

North America range from the Hardacre Film 

Festival in Iowa to the Hi Mom Film Festival in 

North Carolina. Some signal their specialties 

June 2012 


via unusual names — the Rendezvous with 

Madness Film and Video Festival in Canada, 

focusing on mental illness and addiction; the 

Madcat Women's International Film Festival in 

California, featuring female filmmakers; the 

Tacoma Tortured Artists International Film 

Festival in Washington, centering on lowbudget 

independent films; and many more. 

One of the most respected specialized festivals 

is Pordenone-Le Giornate del Cinema Muto, 

established in the north of Italy in 1982. 

Devoted entirely to silent cinema, it draws an 

international audience of archivists, scholars, 

critics, and adventurous fans to a schedule that 

has included everything from century-old 

kinetoscopes to Krazy Kat cartoons. Also highly 

regarded is the Locarno festival, a Swiss event 

launched in 1946 and celebrated for its unusual 

attention to new directors. The hugely ambitious 

Rotterdam festival in the Netherlands has 

earned high marks for its commitment to avantgarde 

cinema as well as children's films, new 

features by innovative directors, and an 

Exploding Cinema sidebar featuring 

multimedia projects. This festival also presents 

film-related lectures and awards monetary 

grants to promising directors from developing 

nations through the Hubert Bals Fund, which it 

administers. The San Francisco festival, 

established in 1957, blazed many trails for the 

mushrooming American festival scene with its 

eclectic blend of major new productions, 

restored classics, and retrospectives devoted to 

filmmakers better known by art-film enthusiasts 

than by the general public. 

Among the more intriguing American events is 

the Telluride Film Festival, founded in 1974 in a 

small Colorado town — once a mining 

community, now a popular skiing site — and 

widely regarded as one of the world's most 

intelligently programmed venues. It keeps the 

schedule secret until patrons arrive at the 

entrance gate, shifting the emphasis from hotticket 

premieres to faith in the programmers and 

delight in the reclusive Rocky Mountains 

setting. To make sure celebrities will be on hand, 

40 

the festival presents tributes to three film-world 

notables each year — honorees have ranged 

from Shirley MacLaine to Salmon Rushdie — 

complete with in-person appearances and 

showings of pertinent films. Many festival 

events take place in an intimate opera house 

where Sarah Bernhardt and Jenny Lind held 

forth during the mining-boom era; the building's 

original marquee, displaying the word "SHOW" 

in large upper-case letters, is still standing and 

serves as the festival's trademark. The legendary 

Warner Bros. animator Chuck Jones, a frequent 

presence there before his death in 2002, once 

paid his respects to Telluride's lofty 9,000-foot 

elevation by saluting the festival as "the most 

fun you'll ever have without breathing.” 

My own festival-going over the years has been 

influenced by my duties as sole film critic for a 

daily newspaper (The Christian Science 

Monitor) published in the US and nominally 

serving both national and international 

audiences, although its editors have swung its 

cultural emphasis increasingly toward massmarket 

American movies. (Partly because of 

that, I retired from full-time reviewing in 2005.) 

I first flew to Cannes in 1974, when The 

Conversation by Francis Ford Coppola won the 

top prize and FIPRESCI honored Ali: Fear Eats 

the Soul by Rainer Werner Fassbinder and 

Lancelot du Lac by Robert Bresson, who 

declined the award. As a yearly attendee starting 

in the 1980s, when I joined the New York 

festival's selection committee, I saw an 

enormous number of worthwhile films, quite a 

few stinkers, and several masterpieces, which I 

often saw again back home as soon as possible, 

since the fatigue induced by such crowded daily 

schedules (I call this the Festival Overload 

Syndrome) makes it hard to evaluate many films 

— especially subtle, delicate, and intellectually 

demanding ones — in the heat of the moment. 

This said, Cannes is unquestionably one of the 

festivals that have best satisfied my hunger for 

stimulating global cinema. 

Another is Toronto, thanks to the teeming 

variety of its offerings and the creativity of its 

June 2012 


programming by festival director Piers 

Handling (and before him Helga Stephenson) 

and a gifted team of associates. Telluride lasts 

only a few days during a holiday weekend in late 

summer, but I've found it the most exciting 

American festival on a day-to-day basis -where 

else, for example, would I have been asked to 

moderate public dialogues with filmmakers as 

different as Stan Brakhage and Mike Leigh? On 

the other end of the spectrum, I've found the 

Moscow International Film Festival quite 

unimaginative in its programming; more 

interesting fare has shown up in small regional 

events like the Bermuda, Israel, and Newport 

(Rhode Island) festivals. 

Into the future 

Film festivals are changing their selection 

standards and exhibition formats as 

technological developments — digital 

cinematography, 3-D projection, and so forth — 

alter the nature of cinema itself. In times of 

financial uncertainty, festivals also face 

ongoing questions as to whether they should 

focus on the best of cinematic art — which may 

include obscure, difficult, and esoteric works — 

or court movies with catchy themes and major 

stars that will draw large audiences, attract press 

attention, and please their all-important 

financial sponsors. 

41 

In the future as in the past, film festivals will 

hold their own as long as movie lovers find them 

a stimulating alternative to multiplexes and 

other directly commercial venues. Exhibition 

patterns play an important role in shaping 

cinematic styles, and festivals have provided 

crucial exposure for new and unconventional 

works that might not otherwise be seen by the 

producers, distributors, exhibitors, and others 

who control the financial infrastructure of 

theatrical film. Also invaluable is the frequent 

festival practice of reviving interest in 

overlooked or forgotten movies from the past 

that would otherwise remain unknown to — or 

unviewable by — scholars, critics, and curious 

fans. All signs point to a healthy and productive 

future for their manifold activities. 

June 2012 


Premendra Mazumder is the Vice 

President of FFSI, Eastern Region, 

a noted film critic, and consultant / 

p r o g r a m m e r f o r s e v e r a l 

International film festivals in Asia, 

Europe and America. He has served 

as a member of the jury at various 

film festivals and has contributed 

articles on cinema in several film 

journals. Premendra in this article 

for IFC has sketched the profile of 

one of our renowned Actor Soumitra 

Chatterjee, who has been honoured 

with Dadasaheb Phalke award for 

the year 2011. 

A Tribute to 

Soumitra Chattopadhyay 

Premendra Mazumder 

Soumitra Chattopadhyay, a.k.a. Soumitra Chatterjee, the 

living legend of the Bengali Cinema, the recipient of the 

'Officier des Arts et Metiers' – the highest award of arts given 

by the Government France and also the recipient of the 

'Lifetime Achievement Award' from Italy, has finally been 

selected to be honored with the coveted 'Dadasaheb Phalke 

Award' – the highest recognition by the Government of India 

for the lifetime contribution to Indian Cinemas. He was 

awarded 'Padma Shri' in 1970 and 1972 but refused to accept 

the award both the times. However, he accepted 'Padma 

Bhushan' in 2004. He also refused to accept a National Award 

for acting in 2001 to protest against the bias of the 

Government to praise the mainstream cinema. But in 2008 he 

accepted the National Award for Best Actor for his role in a 

Bengali feature film Padakshep (2006) directed by Suman 

Ghosh. In 1995 he got the 'Filmfare Lifetime Achievement 

Award'. 

42 

June 2012 


Accepting the 'Dadasaheb Phalke Award' for 

2011, Soumitra said: “I feel honored and accept 

the award with humility. This is the highest 

honor in the country that can be bestowed upon 

someone connected to films. It vindicates my 

faith in my countrymen for sustaining me for 

more than five decades. I miss my elders like 

Satyajit Ray, who was my mentor and made my 

life. And also the great Tapan Sinha who had 

been a great teacher”. He added, “The National 

Award has lost its credibility, no one believes in 

it anymore. I don't value awards but this one 

(Dadasaheb Phalke Award) has seldom been 

sullied because it has not been given to 

undeserving people.” He also told, “In 50 years 

of acting I have been feted by Sangeet Natak 

Academi for my contribution to stage, with 

Padma Bhushan for contribution to Bengal's 

cultural life. But the National Awards 

overlooked my performance in several powerful 

roles.” He further explained, “The President's 

Award is a big thing. But the democratic process 

that decides it does not always help artistic 

merit. However, the Padma Bhushan has 

changed my approach. Now I feel I don't have 

43 

Soumitra 

the right to hurt my viewers by rejecting an 

award.” In a recent interview with CNN-IBN he 

told, “At my age it hardly matters what I get. It is 

much more important that people who have 

loved me, tolerated me and nurtured me with 

their love for 50 years are happy that I am being 

decorated…. I have long since lost all interest in 

these awards because they have so often been 

given to someone who does not deserve it or to 

someone who is not really worth naming. It's not 

attitude or ego problem, it is simple, reasonable 

thinking. I feel I have worked in fourteen of Mr. 

Ray's films and I was not considered to be the 

best actor in any of them.” Madhabi Mukherjee, 

Ray's famous 'Charulata' reacted most 

brilliantly saying: “If Amal were to win an 

award, won't Charulata be thrilled?” Madhabi 

also added “…He should have got the award 

much earlier….”. Renowned novelist and poet, 

the head of the Sahitya Academy, Sunil 

Gangopadhyay reacted, “It is a matter of pride 

for Bengal. A hundred congratulations to him. 

He should have got the award long back, but that 

does not diminish our joy.” Mrinal Sen said, “I 

was speaking to Soumitra over phone this 

morning and I told him that I was sure that he 

would get the Phalke award. I am seeing him 

since he acted in Apur Sansar and he is getting 

better day by day.” Buddhadeb Dasgupta said, 

“It is good that a real artiste has been 

recognized, although late.” 

th 

Soumitra was born on 19 January 1935 at 

Krishnanagar in West Bengal. His father's name 

is Mohit Kumar Chattopadhyay. He received his 

early education in CMM St. John School 

Krishnanagar, Barasat Government School, 

Darjeeling High School and Howrah 

Government School. He joined City College in 

Kolkata and completed his graduation with 

Honors in Bengali literature from the University 

of Calcutta. He joined this University for his 

masters but was unable to appear for the M.A. 

examination. He started his profession as an 

announcer in All India Radio. His career in 

cinema as an actor started in Satyajit Ray's 'Apur 

June 2012 


Sansar' in 1959. Satyajit Ray's assistant 

Nityananda Dutta was a very close friend of 

Soumitra. Dutta introduced him to Ray for his 

film Aparajito but he was not selected for the 

role as his age was not suitable for it. Later in 

1957 Ray had given him the first break in his 

film Apur Sansar, the final film of the great Apu- 

Trilogy. His extraordinary performance in the 

film marked his permanent place of repute in the 

film industry which is still continuing without 

any break. Since then, he collaborated with Ray 

in fourteen films, in some of which the 

screenplays were written by the maestro 

especially keeping Soumitra's role in mind. 

Besides Ray, he also worked with almost all the 

well-known directors of Bengali cinema like 

Mrinal Sen, Tapan Sinha, Tarun Mazummder, 

Asit Sen, Ajoy Kar, Aparna Sen, Rituparno 

Ghosh, Sandip Ray and many others. Regarding 

his career Soumitra said to CNN-IBN, “I was 

very closely associated with the great Shishir 

Kumar Bhaduri and so it was almost predestined 

that I should be an actor. I made up my 

mind when I was doing my graduation. But to be 

very frank, I never thought I would be a very 

famous film star. In fact, before witnessing the 

revolutionary change in Indian cinema with 

Pather Panchali, we had a snobbish kind of 

disdain for cinema. I did not like Bengali cinema 

of those days although I was an avid cinema 

fan.” 

According to him: “In 1958, I started acting onscreen. 

I began as a child actor in theatre, got 

close to Shishir Bhaduri in his final years, and I 

was with AIR when I portrayed Satyajit Ray's 

Apu. I did not have to look back with although 

the formidable Uttam Kumar was at the peak of 

his career. I went on to do 300 films that include 

14 Ray's plus, gems from Tapan Sinha, Mrinal 

Sen, Asit Sen, Ajoy Kar, Tarun Mazumder'. He 

has analyzed his own cinematic career as, “Apu 

was a huge break that became a classic. 

Abhijaan (1962 by Satyajit Ray) and Jhinder 

Bondi (1961 by Tapan Sinha) established me as 

a hero distinct from others. A divorced husband 

44 

in Saat Paakey Bandha (1963 by Ajoy Kar) , an 

aging poet in Dekha (2001 by Goutam Ghosh), 

the protagonist of Wheel Chair (1994 by Tapan 

Sinha), a swimming coach in Koni (1986 by 

Saroj Dey), teacher in Atanka (1986 by Tapan 

Sinha), thief in Sansar Simantey (1975 by Tarun 

Mazumder)… I dreaded getting stereotyped. 

Perhaps that explains my popularity.” 

Soumitra is one of the most talented actors of 

Bengali cinema and acknowledged most 

internationally for his versatile brilliance on 

screen and on stage simultaneously. Ray made 

three films based on Tagore stories – Charulata 

(1964), Samapti (a part of Teen Kanya, 1961) 

and Ghare Baire (1984), and in all of them he 

selected Soumitra in male leads. Relationship 

with Soumitra and Ray is often compared with 

Mifune and Kurosawa, Mastroianni and Fellini, 

De Niro and Scorsese, Max von Sydow and 

Bergman, Jerzy Stuhr and Kieslowski. He was 

cast in different types of roles by Ray. Ray's 

famous private detective Feluda in Sonar Kella 

(1974) and Joy Baba Felunath (1978) were 

specially designed keeping Soumitra in mind. 

Besides his extraordinary works in the films of 

Ray, his performances in all other great directors 

of Bengal have also been appreciated very 

highly. In the role of an imposter in Mrinal Sen's 

Akash Kushum (1965), a splashy teaser in the 

box-office hit Teen Bhubaner Paare (1969 by 

Ashotosh Bandyopadhyay), a comic bachelor in 

another box-office hit Basanta Bilaap (1973 by 

Dinen Gupta) and in so many others he proved 

himself as a versatile genius. His famous twist 

dance with the super-hit song “ke tumi nandini” 

to woo his love-interest Tanuja made him 

popular superstar overnight keeping his 

intellectual image intact. Tanuja has recently 

said “My memories take me back to the early 

70s. I was pitted opposite Soumitra Chatterjee in 

Teen Bhubaner Pare and Pratham Kadam 

Phool. Both were big hits. Soumitra Chatterjee 

is an original actor, natural reflexive never 

influenced by Hollywood….He deserves the 

Dadasaheb Phalke Award”. 

June 2012 


In 1995 when I was editing a Bengali literary 

journal 'Loukik Udyan', I had an opportunity to 

take his interview for our special issue on '100 

years of Cinema'. He spoke on different issues 

on cinema but the most interesting 

interpretation he gave me on the film society 

movement which I should share with my readers 

of the Indian Film Culture. Soumitra told me: 

“Federation of Film Societies of India is 

marginally successful to propagate film culture 

in the country. It failed to build up a very 

successful movement. But it was quite different 

at the initial stage. People like Satyajit Ray, 

Mrinal Sen and Ritwik Ghatak were associated 

with the movement – who were involved with 

making good film and propagation of film 

culture. Naturally they realized the immense 

potential of the film society movement, its 

historical importance, its future strength. They 

took the initiative so that a proper film culture 

could be developed in the country. And it was an 

obvious necessity of the time, many cultural 

movements were being developed during that 

period.” 

In this interview when I asked him about the 

contemporary Bengali cinema, he was very 

depressed. He said: “In general the quality of 

today's cinema has been deteriorated. Main 

cause is the declension of people's taste. 

Moreover no new filmmaker like Satyajit Ray 

or Ritwik Ghatak, Mrinal Sen or Tapan Sinha is 

coming up. I am sorry to say that the famous 

directors of these days don't understand this 

medium properly. In every step of film making 

they prioritize the international film festivals, 

how to get recognitions from those festivals. So 

a possibility to be acclaimed in the international 

festival might have been created but it fails to 

reach the common people. The way Ray used to 

treat his films by pulling up the common people 

to be communicated cerebrally is not the cup of 

tea of the contemporary filmmakers.” In reply to 

my question about his favorite actors in Indian 

cinema he mentioned categorically that he 

admired most Balraj Sahani, Sanjeev Kumar, 

45 

Sabitri Chatterjee and Wahida Rehman. His 

favorite Wahida also praised him in a recent 

interview saying that, “I made my debut in 

Bengali films opposite Soumitra Chatterjee in 

Satyajit Ray's Abhijan in 1962. He was a sport 

and very co-operative right from our first day of 

shooting. As I performed my dance mudras 

saying toke nach dekhabo babuji in Abhijan, he 

looked straight into my eyes with a meaningful 

expression. That conveyed volumes. We again 

made a special appearance in 15 Park Avenue. I 

am glad he has been bestowed the highest award 

of Indian cinema.” 

Soumitra, a versatile genius in all most all types 

of roles also proved himself a very successful 

comedian as well for his perfect sense of comic 

timing in the box-office hits like Basanta Bilap 

(1973 by Dinen Gupta), Chhutir Phande (1975 

by Salil Sen) and Baksho Badal (1965 by 

Nityananda Dutta). On one hand he was highly 

acclaimed for his excellent cerebral 

performances in so many films and on the other, 

he was equally successful for his brilliant roles 

in several commercially successful films – 

which undoubtedly proved him as an iconic 

actor, the living legend of Begali cinema. Not 

only cinema, practically Soumitra is considered 

as an icon of Bengali culture as a whole. At the 

age of 77 Soumitra is dominating the Bengali 

cinema and the Bengali theatre simultaneously. 

A thespian of highest repute Soumitra acts 

directs and writes plays regularly. Right now he 

is playing in the lead role of the famous 'King 

Lear' of William Shakespeare produced by the 

'Minerva Repertory Theatre Kolkata'. Its really 

a lifetime experience to see him as the King Lear 

on stage continuously for three hours. Soumitra, 

who successfully headed the 'Kolkata Film 

Festival' for a long period during the Left rule in 

West Bengal, has been removed from the post by 

the present Government in the state for his leftinclination. 

But his recognition by the 

Government of India with 'Dadasaheb Phalke 

Award' however satisfied his innumerable 

admirers. 

June 2012 


It is impossible to give his total filmography as 

the number may stand something between 300 

and 400. However, a very shortlisted 

filmography is given below to remember his 

works: 

•Apur Sansar (1959, Satyajit Ray) 

•Devi (1960, Satyajit Ray) 

•Khudito Pashan (1960, Tapan Sinha) 

•Teen Kanya (1961, Satyajit Ray) 

•Jhinder Bondi (1961, Tapan Sinha) 

•Punascha (1961, Mrinal Sen) 

•Abhijan (1962, Satyajit Ray) 

•Saat Paake bandha (1963, Ajoy Kar) 

•Charulata (1964, Satyajit Ray) 

•Kapurush (1965, Satyajit Ray) 

•Akash Kushum (1965, Mrinal Sen) 

•Baksho Badal (1965, Nityananda Dutta) 

•Joradighir Choudhuri Paribar 

(1966, Ajit Lahiri) 

•Baghini (1968, Bijoy Bose) 

46 

•Parineeta (1969, Ajoy Kar) 

•Aranyer Din Ratri (1970, Satyajit Ray) 

•Ashani Sanket (1973, Satyajit Ray) 

•Sonar Kella (1974, Satyajit Ray) 

•Joy Baba Felunath (1978, Satyajit Ray) 

•Noukadubi (1979, Ajoy Kar) 

•Ganadevata (1979, Tarun Mazumder) 

•Hirak Rajar Deshe (1980, Satyajit Ray) 

•Ghare Baire (1984, Satyajit Ray) 

•Koni (1986, Saroj Dey) 

•Atanka (1986, Tapan Sinha) 

•Ganashatru (1989, Satyajit Ray) 

•Shakha Proshakha (1990, Satyajit Ray) 

•Mahapritivi (1991, Mrinal Sen) 

•Ashukh (1999, Rituparno Ghosh) 

•Paromitar Ek Din (2000, Aparna Sen) 

•15 Park Avenue (2005, Aparna Sen) 

•Padakshep (2006, Suman Ghosh) 

•Angshumaner Chhobi (2009, Atanu Ghosh) 

June 2012 


(Fipresci International had its 

General Assembly meeting at Bari 

(Italy) on March 25 and 26, 2012 

and there was one specific question 

on which discussion was initiated: 

What can we do to ensure the future 

of our profession and protect our 

reputations? Our vice-president 

Alin Tasciyan who prepares this 

discussion writes: "The role of the 

f i l m c r i t i c s i n m e d i a h a s 

dramatically changed. Film critics 

are less and less employed in 

mainstream media. Even if we are 

employed we cannot make a living 

out of film criticism. Let's look for 

practical solutions. Let's discuss the 

ways of adapting to the new media 

and / or finding a way to keep our 

positions." Colleagues attending 

the assembly are kindly asked to 

contribute to this theme by reporting 

the situation in their countries and 

by informing about their own 

experience. 

In the light of this initiation Mr. Rao 

has written this article touching 

upon different aspects of film 

criticism in the present context. Mr. 

H.N.Narahari Rao is the president 

of the FFSI, Secretary of FIPRESCI 

India and also the Artistic Director 

of Bangalore International Film 

Festival. He is the author of several 

books including The Most 

Memorable Films of the World, 

which has been widely acclaimed. 

He has been teaching film 

appreciation in colleges and 

educational institutions.) 

Film Criticism today 


Even before going to the main topic I would like to dwell upon 

a very interesting question that has cropped up many times in 

the recent years: Is Film Criticism an Art? In fact it was 

discussed exhaustively at some of the meetings held by the 

Film critics at various seminars and at international film 

festivals. Interestingly this question raises many issues. 

Basically a film critic writes on the works of a filmmaker. 

Even though it started as a scientific development cinema is 

universally accepted as a gift of science to art, and we 

definitely treat it as an art form. It is a composite art 

combining technology with collective work. To make it 

simpler it is story telling through moving images. Writing a 

review on this art form, can it also become art? This is what 

we have to discuss now. 

What is Art? 

Another issue that comes up is what is the definition of Art? 

Art is generally considered a mode of creative expression that 

touches our sensibility. We are familiar with some of the 

47 

June 2012 


modes of expressions like Literature, Music, 

Theatre, paintings, Dance, sculpture, which are 

traditional art forms and joining this category is 

Film which is the youngest of all of them and it 

is also the only art form whose date of birth is 

recorded by the historians. We can also further 

expand this perception by classifying Art into 

different categories such as – Creative Art, 

Performing Art and Decorative art. Cinema 

comes under both creative and performing art. 

In general practice we have come across several 

instances where people extend this phenomenon 

to call many things as art, for example, Public 

Speaking (Oratory), Teaching, Leadership, 

Journalism, sports, and many other professional 

performances. Whenever people are impressed 

by some extremely good performances they call 

it in an exalted way that it is artistic. So it is quite 

difficult to draw a line to demarcate its 

boundary. 

For many, writing on performing arts is a 

profession, and similarly writing on cinema is 

also a profession, and we have many film 

journalists with us who are fully devoted to this 

particular field. But I am sure most of us agree 

that many of those who write reviews for dailies 

and other periodicals do not fit into the category 

of film criticism. Normally they are allotted 

limited space and on a routine basis, they write 

something on the films they see for public 

consumption. It is more of reporting than a 

serious analysis of its structure and its impact. It 

is also true that nowadays none of the print 

media publications allot enough space for 

writing scholarly treatise on cinema since 

according to them it does not receive any 

attention by majority readers. It is like art films, 

no takers, only awards. The situation is same 

throughout the world. 

Art Criticism / Literary criticism / Film 

Criticism 

Let us now discuss what film criticism is. 

48 

But even before going to this subject, we should 

accept that the activity of Art criticism existed 

even before cinema made its presence. We have 

literary criticism that is in practice since a long 

time. Many of our Sanskrit classics of early 

days, like Mahabharata, Ramayana, and many 

other dramas, and even Greek drama and 

literature like Shakespeare classics gave rise to 

scholarly writings by eminent commentators. 

Subsequently we have come across writings in 

India in different languages on literary classics. 

Such writings and commentaries do exist in 

other art forms also. In Kannada literature also 

many eminent writers have written extensively 

on some of the great literary works of eminent 

poets. This activity in fact has found its firm 

footing in the evolution of our cultural heritage. 

It is no wonder that film criticism also joined 

this stream. Considered to be the most powerful 

of all art forms in its impact as a medium of mass 

communication, film criticism attained more 

importance because of its immense popularity. 

Film Appreciation and Film Criticism 

We are quite familiar with the subject Film 

Appreciation in the Film Society circles. Marie 

Seton, the noted film activist from Britain who 

played a significant role in the promotion of 

Film Society movement in India took initiative 

in introducing Film Appreciation as a subject in 

the FTII. And later on it is being regularly 

conducted at Pune by the NFAI and also by 

many film societies and educational 

institutions. 

Film Criticism is an extension of Film 

Appreciation. While Film Appreciation 

provides a forum for understanding the 

creativity of the filmmaker to ordinary 

spectator, or a film lover, the function of film 

criticism does not stop at that. What a film critic 

does is of much more importance because he 

acts as a link between the spectator and the 

filmmaker to explain the nature of creative art 

that the artist (filmmaker) has created. It is 

June 2012 


necessary because this is altogether a different 

faculty. Normally the filmmaker may not be 

equipped with resources to explain the process 

that he has created. A good film critic with his 

linguistic skill, with fairly good knowledge of 

film language can bridge this gap. This is a very 

important job and a healthy film criticism is 

crucial for the development of film art and its 

evolution. 

What are the qualities of a good critic? - is the 

next important issue. 

A good critical analysis of any art form for that 

matter will contain two things which are 

important. One is its content; the second is how 

it is presented. Many times we have seen that 

good contents are not properly presented, and 

the vice versa is also true; there will be good 

language, sometimes a maze of jargons but poor 

in its content. A good critique is one which 

unravels an objective appraisal presented in an 

appropriate language. This comes only to those 

who know the subject well and have good 

control over the language in which they write. 

Qualities of a good critic: 

Basically a critic should have an open mind. He 

or she must not see a film with preconceived 

notion or with prejudice. For example, with 

strong political affiliation or with some strong 

views, or with likes and dislikes on certain 

issues, or a particular ideology the critique that 

is made lose ground in the long run. The moment 

a reader comes to know that a particular person 

has written a review they do not even read it, 

unless they also belong to the same group. The 

same thing applies to the filmmaker also. 

Example: Costa Govras 

He made Z, and it became a big success – and at 

the British Film Institute, when questioned 

about his ideology he said: When I made Z lot of 

people said he is a communist- When I made 

49 

The Confession (1970) the communists said he 

is a right winger. But for a filmmaker movie is a 

passion, at least it is for me. 

It is true with a film critic also. He should be 

dispassionate in his outlook. His pen should try 

to understand the inner meaning of the visuals 

that the filmmaker wants to portray and act as a 

bridge between the audience and the artist. 

Example: Zhang Yimou 

I would like to make reference to the world 

renowned, contemporary, Chinese filmmaker 

Zhang Yimou who admits that he does not 

believe in any political idealism, and he makes 

film with an open mind and with a dispassionate 

outlook. 

He belongs to the Fifth Generation of 

Filmmakers who took courage to make films 

that portrayed some of the dreadful events that 

took place in China in the name of Cultural 

Revolution. I quote here his own words: 

“The Cultural Revolution was a very special 

period of Chinese history, unique in the world. 

It was part of my youth. It happened between 

when I was 16 and when I was 26. During 

those 10 years, I witnessed so many terrible 

and tragic things. For many years, I have 

wanted to make movies about that period – to 

discuss the sufferings and to talk about fate 

and human relationships in a world which 

people couldn't control and which was terrible. 

I would like to make not just one but many 

movies, both autobiographical and drawing 

other people's stories. I will just have to wait.” 

Learned film critics all over the world give 

special importance to this filmmaker and his 

films receive welcome reception at all the major 

film festivals. Many writers consider his films 

are highly artistic and to write on them itself is a 

great opportunity. Today any film made by him 

receives coverage in more than two to three 

June 2012 


hundred acknowledged print media 

publications around the world. 

It means to say that a good film critic also needs 

a good cinema to write, and then only it gives 

scope for a good critique that can be called 

artistic. 

Celebrities 

I can give some good examples of critics who 

have become celebrities. 

The one name that instantly comes up is of 

course that of late Pauline Kael (1919-2001), the 

lady from US, who is respectfully 

acknowledged as a legendary film critic. 

When Bertolucci made Last Tango in Paris 

(1972), it created a sensation because the 

cinema for the public had never witnessed such 

erotic scenes earlier. It was first shown in New 

York film festival to a packed audience. It was a 

shocking experience for the audience, because 

of the eroticism that it portrayed. It was more so 

because Marlon Brando the most popular and 

admired actor was the main protagonist in the 

film with a bizarre performance. Just a couple 

of months before the film was released Pauline 

Kael wrote a review of the film which remains 

even today as one of the most historic reviews in 

50 

Pauline Kael 

the film history. This article mentally prepared 

the audience to receive the film in a way that it 

never created the commotion that was 

anticipated. People simply accepted the film 

without any adverse comments. That is the 

power of a great critic. Pauline Kael is one such 

celebrity. 

I also quote here her remarks on Film Criticism. 

Pauline Kael: 

“I regard criticism as an art, and if in this 

country and in this age it is practiced with 

honesty, it is no more remunerative than the 

work of an avant-garde film artist. My dear 

anonymous letter writers, if you think it is so 

easy to be a critic, so difficult to be a poet or a 

painter or film experimenter, may I suggest 

you try both? You may discover why there are 

so few critics, so many poets.” 

Chidanand Dasgupta 

In India, Mr. Chidananda Dasgupta, one of the 

pioneers of the film society movement in India 

was an internationally acclaimed celebrity in the 

June 2012 


film criticism. Many of his writings that 

appeared in the highly reputed British Film 

Institute magazine 'Sight and Sound' are very 

highly rated by world fraternity of film critics. 

His treatise on Satyajit Ray and his films that 

appears in his book The Cinema of Satyajit Ray, 

being his long time associate in the film society 

movement is perhaps a very authentic 

documentation of his creative writing on his 

complete works. In his analysis of Ray he makes 

a remarkable assessment of some of the intricate 

issues that none of the other writers have 

brought out in their books on Ray, written by 

many film critics both from India and abroad. 

Writing on Ray's Mahanagar (1965) (The Big 

City), he points out that in The big city, Kolkata, 

after which the film is named, the political 

unrest, the tension and the daily protest rallies 

with red flags that passed through the city lanes 

relentlessly are never shown in detail at all. This 

was a very valid remark and many film analysts 

agreed that this absence is very conspicuous. 

Even Ray took note of this in the right spirit and 

made amends in his later film Jana Aranya 

(1975) which gives a good account of the social 

tension that prevailed during that period. 

Writing on Film Appreciation, he makes a very 

interesting observation – regarding the 

difference between the filmmaker, the artist and 

the exponents of other art forms like music. He 

quotes a story which he calls apocryphal 

concerning the famous musician Ustad Fayyaz 

Khan. This example however is quite effective 

in conveying its essence. 

“Late Ustad Fayyaz Khan, one day during the 

years of World War II, he interrupted his 

singing Darbari Kanada to ask one of his 

pupils, “I hear there is a war going on. Who is 

fighting whom”? “The Germans and the 

English”, replied the pupil, “they were fighting 

in 1914”said the master “and they are still 

carrying on, that is a long time to fight”. 

Having made this remarks he continued his 

singing. Would Fayyaz Khan have been a 

51 

better musician had he read the newspaper 

every morning, we do not know. But it is 

impossible we should think to practice 

filmmaking in such splendid isolation. ” 

This is a classic example of how a good film 

critic brings to light some of the issues that arise 

when he sees the works of great artists. When 

such writings are made what is wrong in calling 

it artistic. 

Ray as a humanist 

Mr. Chidanand Dasgupta, in his book on Ray 

tells us the predicament under which he had to 

work which I am reproducing here: 

“The trilogy consolidated very early in his 

career, the nature of Ray's humanism. Living 

in an emerging Marxist intellectual ambience 

in Bengal, Ray held on to his Tagorean beliefs 

and rejected the methodology of Marxism. 

The crux of this social philosophy lies in the 

importance of the growth of the individual 

mind and the influence idealism exercises, 

through religion and art to prevent it from 

extreme self-seeking at the cost of welfare of 

others.” 

While many other artists faithfully followed the 

dictum of idealism that prevailed on a mass 

scale, only Ray could withstand the pressure 

mainly because his was a towering personality. 

There are instances where the artists had to pay 

dearly for not toeing the line of the majority 

approach. Examples… Ray was subjected to 

harsh criticism by the intellectuals on his last 

three films (Ganashatru / 1989, Shakha 

Proshakha /1990, Agantuk /1991) he made 

during his ailing period. This was a very unkind 

treatment to a person who was universally 

considered to be one of the great masters of the 

world cinema. This is a typical example of how 

prejudiced view of an art form spoils the very 

spirit of criticism. Such criticisms never go 

anywhere near becoming art. It is more a 

propaganda writing… 

June 2012 


Let me also quote here what Pauline Kael wrote 

about Ray: 

“It is a commentary on the values of our society 

that those who saw the truth and greatness in 

the Apu Trilogy, particularly in the opening 

film with its emphasis on the mother's struggle 

to feed the family are not drawn to a film in 

which Ray shows the landowning class and its 

collapse of beliefs. It is part of our heritage 

from the thirties that the poor still seem real 

and the rich trivial. Devi should however 

please even Marxists if they go to see it. It is the 

most convincing study of upper class 

decadence I have ever seen. But it is Ray's 

feeling for the beauty with in this 

disintegrating way of life that makes it 

convincing. Eisenstein cartooned the upper 

classes and made them hateful, they became 

puppets in the show he was staging. Ray, on the 

contrary gave them respect that he gives the 

poor and struggling, helps us to understand 

their demoralization…… Like Renoir and De 

Sica, Ray sees that life itself is good no matter 

how bad it is. It is difficult to discuss art which 

is an affirmation of life, without fear of 

becoming maudlin. ” 

Here is what Roger Ebert the famous film critic 

who writes for Chicago Sun Times has to say 

about Apu Trilogy when he revisited the films 

recently. : 

52 

Roger Ebert 

“I watched the Apu Trilogy recently over a 

period of three nights and found my thoughts 

returning to it during the days. It is about a 

time, place and culture far removed from our 

own and yet it connects directly and deeply with 

our human feelings. It is like a prayer, 

affirming that this is what the cinema can be, 

no matter how far in our cynicism we may 

stray.” 

Let me now come to the point Film Criticism 

Today. 

I am sure many will agree with me that for a 

good film criticism there should be good films 

made. You cannot make a scholarly treatise on a 

film that does not deserve even a single viewing. 

It is a waste of time. Most of the films that are 

made in the main stream do not give any scope 

for writing a good critique. Even if we want to 

write on films that merit such writings there will 

be no takers to publish it. There are no 

publications that can accommodate such 

writings. This means to say that we should have 

film periodicals exclusively devoted to cinema. 

Then only we can invite people to write and the 

evolution of good criticism will take place. Even 

in the western countries where film criticism 

had its hey days in the 1960's and 1970's, there is 

a steep decline in both quality and quantity. The 

only magazines that still pursue this act of 

publishing critical analysis on films are 'Sight 

and Sound', 'Cahier du Cinema' and a few 

others. 

Film Critics and their influence 

All said and done, we should accept that film 

critics play a very important role through their 

writings. Also, established film critics play a 

very influential role in promoting films at the 

various levels – Film Festivals, Awards, 

commercial distribution etc. For example it was 

only because some of the critics were able to 

June 2012 


appreciate the qualities of some of the great 

works that masters like Akira Kurosawa, 

Bergman, Ray, Fellini and others shot into fame. 

E-magazines 

I am not very pessimist in my assessment. I am 

quite optimistic in my vision that the Internet 

that has become a part of our lives today is an 

ideal forum where we can accommodate such 

film writings. This is taking place in a big way 

and I am sure this will be the order of the day in 

the coming years. There are many advantages in 

publishing magazines through internet – 

There is no necessity of getting the articles 

printed. We can receive the articles, edit them on 

line. 

We can accommodate good still photographs 

that are available on the internet. More than 

anything else we can reach people in hundreds 

and thousands with one stroke on your 

53 

computer. Today there is innumerable number 

of such e-publications swarming our computers. 

But we should be choosy in our selection to suit 

our needs. This is also one of the reasons that we 

are able to gather information on films made 

around the world and such information and 

writings become handy in procuring films for 

film festivals. This is how we can spread a 

healthy film culture around the world and 

ultimately this is what we are aiming to achieve. 

There are many critics who are publishing their 

writings on world cinema in book form. There 

are books available in hundreds today. And yes, 

we need them the writings on cinema. 

June 2012 


(The Indian Film industry is 

celebrating its 100 years of the first 

feature film Raja Harischandra 

made by D.G.Phalke considered the 

father of the Indian motion picture 

industry. Mr.Rafique in this article 

goes down the memory lane to 

present a profile of one of our 

pioneers who made films from the 

silent era and continued till 1960s 

and made rich contribution to the 

Bollywood cinema. Mr. Rafique is a 

noted film journalist having won the 

National award for Best film critic 

for the year 2006. He regularly 

writes for Business India on cinema. 

And conducts film appreciation 

lectures in Mumbai.) 

Chandulal J. Shah (1898-1975) 

The Stockbroker and the Showman 

By Rafique Baghdadi 

Chandulal J. Shah was born in 1898 in Jamnagar, Gujarat. But 

Bombay was where he was educated and where he found 

footing almost simultaneously in stock trading and making 

movies — the inherent speculative nature of both no doubt is 

their attraction. He 

studied at Sydenham 

College in Bombay and 

prepared for a career in 

b u s i n e s s . A f t e r 

graduation, Chandulal 

worked for a while with 

his brother Dayaram 

Shah, who had written 

mythological films for 

several rising Bombay 

producers. 

54 

Chandulal Shah 

June 2012 


In 1924, Shah got a job on the-Bombay Stock 

Exchange and settled down, he thought, to a life 

of business. That he thereafter entered the film 

industry was pure chance. A chance that came 

his way through brother Dayaram, then 

publicity manager of Bombay's Majestic 

Cinema, and Amarchand Shroff, solicitor for the 

Laxmi Film Co. 

In 1925 he heard the Imperial theatre was 

desperate for a film to be launched during the 

Eid festival. Chandulal (backed by his brother's 

reputation and his own vague association with 

several of his brother's 'mythos') offered to have 

a film ready before Eid. He delivered the film 

before the deadline and it ran for ten weeks. 

Chandulal, who had a literary background, was 

next called upon to direct a picture Vimla (1925, 

cast: Raja Sandow, Putli) for Laxmi Film Co., as 

its director Manilal Joshi bedridden and unable 

to wield the megaphone. Chandulal not only did 

a good job, he stayed on with the same company 

to direct two more silent pictures — Panch 

Danda (1925, Cast: Raja Sandow, Yakbal, Putli) 

and Madhave Kamkundaia (1926, Cast: Raja 

Sandow, Miss Blanche Verni), before returning 

to his first love, the stock exchange. The movie 

business seems to have made him prematurely 

wise — by this time all his hair had turned grey! 

Persuasion from solicitor friend Shroff brought 

him to the Kohinoor Film Company. They were 

the mythological experts of the times. 

Chandulal joined as an assistant director for 

their film Samrat Shiladityo (1926, Dir: M. 

Bhavnani, Cast: Gohar, Salochana and Raja 

Sandow). This picture brought him in close 

contact with Gohar, a contact that was 

eventually to develop into a lasting partnership. 

They were full partners in film business and 

survived the initial scandal of a liaison that was 

later accepted as a de-facto marriage. The same 

panache and daring to flout conventional 

55 

morality is found in some of their films. Miss 33 

('33) and Barrister's Wife ('35), despite their 

melodramatic excesses, explored bold themes 

centred round a non-conformist heroine. 

Miss Gohar K Mamajiwala (1910 - 1985) 

On Footing with the Mytho 

The very first film independently directed by 

Chandulal Shah far Kohinoor was Typist Girl/ 

Why I became a Christian, which was produced 

in a record period of just 17 days. (Dir: 

Chandulal J Shah and Deware, Cast: Sulochana, 

Gohar, Rajo Sandow, RN Vaidya). It was an 

instant success at the box-office, which led to 

Chandulal directing five more films for 

Kohinoor, including Sumari of Sindh, Educated 

Wife, Sati Madri, and Gunsundari / Why 

Husbands Go Astray (all starring Gohar and 

Raja Sandow). Chandulal was also writer of the 

June 2012 


enormously popular Gunsundari, thus breaking 

the monopoly of Kohinoor's permanent story 

writer, Mohanlal Dave. 

Gunsundari — about the dilemma of a dutiful 

wife burdened by household problems who sets 

out to be a good companion to her husband — 

was a milestone that marked the rise of the 

Indian Social Film. It was later remade by Shah 

as a talkie in three different Indian languages 

and each was a huge box- office success. Typist 

Girl (it had only an English title) and 

Gunsundari, radical in that they transplanted 

elements of western life to eastern settings, 

proved sensational at the box office and 

according to Krishnaswamy/Barnouw, set the 

Social on footing with the Mytho. Gunsundari's 

heroine, Gohar, now came to be known as 

Glorious Gohar. 

Jealousy among the staff at Kohinoor drove 

Chandulal and Gohar to seek new pastures at 

Gokul Das Pausta's Jagdish Film Co. Chandulal 

wrote and directed four movies for Jagdish, with 

Gohar and Raja Sandow in the lead: Vishwa 

Mohini (1928), Griha Laxmi (1928), 

Chandramukhi (1929), and Raj Laxmi (1930). 

These films mode an indelible impression on the 

minds of the educated audience because 

Chandulal dared to break many taboos in days 

when heroines were mainly projected as good, 

kind, virtuous and dutiful wives. 

Shri Ranjit Film Company was founded on 

May, 29, 1929, by Chandulal J. Shah in 

partnership with Miss Gohar K Mamajiwala 

(1910 – 1985) leading screen actress of the day. 

It was still the era of the silent film and their very 

first film 'Pati Patni” starring Gohar and 

written, produced and directed by Chandulal 

Shah, put the new concern firmly and finally on 

the film map of India. Ranjit had arrived to stay. 

Ranjit eventually acquired four stages and 

boasted a roster of about 300 artists, technicians 

56 

and others. They made two kinds of films: 

Socials and Stunt in Hindi, Punjabi and 

Gujarati. The budget ranged from Rs.35,000 to 

60,000, the stunt film costing a little more than 

the social. 

Ranjit studio produced variety of genre, socials 

historical, mythological, devotionals, dramas, 

and romances period pieces, tragedies and 

comedies. Ranjit Film Co. gave audiences hit 

comedies like My Darling / Diwani Dilbur 

(1930), Beggar Girl (1929), Rajputani (1929) 

and Wild Flower / Pohadi Kanya (1930). Pahadi 

Kanya had the distinction of gaining both public 

approval and critical appreciation from the 

Press. 

It was voted Best Picture of 1930. 

The list of stars discovered by Rahnjit studio is 

impressive : Trilok Kapur, E. Billimoria, 

Iswarlal Bhagwandas, Charlie, Dixit, Ghory, 

Keshri, Suresh, Sitara, Madhuri, Ila Devi, 

Madhubala, Shamin, Kamala Chatterjee, 

Meena Kumari, Khurshid (Junior), Purnima, 

Nirupa Roy and Kurshid. The directors who got 

their first big break under the Ranjit banner are 

Chatubhuj Doshi, Jayant Desai, Manibhai Vyas, 

Nandlal Jaswantlal, Nanubhai Vakil,, Taimur 

Behram Shah, Ratibhai Punnatar and Charlie. 

Musicians who owed their first chance at Music 

direction to Mr. Chandulal Shah are Master 

Zandekhan, Master Bamse Kahn, Revashankar 

Marwari, Jnan Dutt, Khmechand Prakash, Bulo 

C Rani and Hansraj Behl. 

With stars like Gohar, E- Bilimoria, Madhuri, 

Motilal, Khurshid and K L Saigal on its payroll, 

the Studio's boast, “there are more stars in Ranjit 

than in the Heavens” was more than the 

publicist's hyperbole. According to Chandulal 

Shah “ They all came to Ranjit as Artists and left 

as friends, because we took a close personal 

interest in them. Chandulal Shah took the lead in 

June 2012 


adopting Western promotion techniques, 

including mammoth posters and neon signs. 

With the coming of sound, Shree Ranjit Film 

Co. acquired Audio-Camex sound equipment 

and was renamed Ranjit Movietone. According 

to Chandulal Shah, when the Talkies came to 

India, they had four silent pictures on the floors 

at Ranjit. 

The success of several films during this early 

period of the Talkies gave confidence to this 

pioneer seeking fresh fields. Ranjit's first Talkie, 

Devi Devoyani (1931, Dir: Chandulal Shah, 

Music: Ustad Zandekhan, Dialogues Aga 

Hashar, Cost: Gohar, Bhagwandcis, D. 

Bilimoria, Keki Adajania), was a mythological 

based on the love - story of Kacha and Devyani. 

Most of the Ranjit movies between 1931-34 did 

very well in the first run in Bombay 

theatres — Miss 1933 (9 weeks), Toofan Mail (8 

weeks), Gunsundari (13 weeks). Ranjit sold 

off the rights of Miss 1933, Tarasundari, 

Gunsundari, Toofan Mail and Sitamnagar for 

Rs.50,000 each in the north. These were 

sensational sales in days when making a feature 

film cost Rs.60, 000. 

Sardar of The lndustry 

In 1940, on the opening night of Chandulal 

Shah's film Achhut, India's 'Iron Man' Sardar 

Vallabhai Patel was the chief guest. Achhut, 

promoted as nationalist film, addressed 

Gandhiji's anti-untouchability campaign and 

was endorsed by Gandhi and Sardar Patel even 

before its release. Gohar plays Lakshmi, 

daughter of a harijan-turned- Christian father 

and Hindu mother, who is adopted by a rich 

businessman, and becomes friend of his 

daughter Savita. When Lakshmi and Savita fall 

in love with the same man, she gets sent back to 

her original family home where, with her 

57 

childhood friend (Motilal), she leads the harijan 

revolt.. .Achhut was Miss Gohar's last film and 

she retired from films in 1939. But the business 

partnership lasted far another three decades. 

According to Chandulal Shah “Gohar has been 

the inspiration of my life and career, a true friend 

and unparalled and exemplary as a business 

partner. During the years of our association I 

have earned lakhs of rupees and lost them, and 

she has never once asked me what I did with all 

the money”. 

During the studio system's heyday, which can 

roughly be placed between the beginning of the 

sound era and end of World War II, Ranjit— 

with the dynamic Chandulal at the helm — was 

easily the most prolific, producing between six 

to eight films a year. They covered every 

conceivable genre. 

But as free-lancing became the order of the day, 

things deteriorated. Even established studios 

like Ranjit tried to sustain themselves by hiring 

out floor space to independent producers. By 

1945/46, the studio system was collapsing. 

Ranjit Movietone, which had kept up regular 

supplies to the notion's theatres, suddenly found 

itself bankrupt, proprietor Chandulal Shah 

having incurred huge losses in and at the stock 

exchange. 

Raj Kapoor and Nargis in Papi (1953) 

directed by Chandulal Shah 

In 1952, a massive fire destroyed part of the 

studio along with almost the whole negative 

June 2012 


material of more than 100 of their productions. 

There was labour trouble. The studio was 

handed over to technicians — who formed 

Technician United. Shah had no option but to 

allow them to take over of his studio. The lost 

Ranjit Movietone film was Akeli Mat Jayyo 

(1963) with Meenakumari and Rajendra Kumar. 

It was the last film Shah produced. 

Sardar Chandulal Shah was “sethji” (as his 

employees and artists called him) of the Ranjit 

film company with a white horse for its emblem. 

With his spotless white dhoti and long coat he 

was familiar sight at the race-courses or at the 

card table or cotton, gold and silver markets. 

Chandulal Shah had produced 36 silent and over 

120 talkies. He was Studio Owner, Producer, 

Director and Story- writer. Always actively 

interested in the development of film industry, 

he was regarded as one of its chief spokesmen. 

58 

He was the first President of the Film Federation 

of India and was on the Executive Committee of 

Indian Motion Picture Producers Association 

(IMPPA) ever since its inception in 1937, 

serving twice as Vice-President and four times 

as President. He was also member of the Central 

Board of Film Censors and leader of the 

goodwill mission to USA (1952). He was 

generally acknowledged as an elder statesman 

of the industry —which in deference gave him 

the title of 'Sardar' or leader. 

th 

The 'leader' died in penury on 25 November 

1975. He was 77 years old. 

June 2012 

Rafique Baghdadi 


Darius Cooper is a prof of Litt and 

Film and Humanities in the English 

Dept of San Diego Mesa College, 

US. . He has published a critical 

book on Satyajit Ray in 2000, 

Cambridge Press, and another book 

on Guru Dutt, published by Seagull 

Books. His writings have appeared a 

lot in numerous journals both in 

India and in America. Darius is a 

committed film buff and a film 

society activist. In this article he 

makes an interesting analogy of the 

evolution of early bolly-wood 

cinema with the Nehruvian 

ideology. 

Hindi Cinema's 

Nehruvian Yatra (Journey) 

Darius Cooper 

On January 30, 1948, Mahatma Gandhi was shot dead as he 

hurried to his prayer meeting. India lost one father, but 

interestingly in Jawaharlal Nehru, it gained another. Gandhi's 

death enabled Nehru to walk, finally, out of his gigantic 

shadow into a different kind of India he had wanted so long to 

create: an India where industry would replace temples; where 

the urbanized city would become the industrial center of 

progress instead of the village farmer and the ancestral 

zamindar anchored to their ploughs and their two acres of 

land. 

Kalpana 

The Hindi film that reflected this early phase was Uday 

Shankar's Kalpana, released in 1948. Its theme was about the 

establishing of a progressive art center where the artist's 

kalpana or imagination would be given free reign to create. 

Shankar's vibrant film was determined to move into the future 

even formalistically, especially in its choreography that was 

distinctly modern and replete with all kinds of western "isms" 

deliberately incorporated into its natya-shastra structure. It 

literally took an ancient India "as a semi divine being" into 

59 

June 2012 


that modern India that Nehru's five year old 

plans were about to give shape to. 

In Nehru's First Five Year Plan (1951-56), the 

emphasis was on agriculture, irrigation, and 

power-projects. In its agenda, iron and steel 

competed with fertilizer and water harnessing. 

The manufacture of locomotives and the growth 

of cotton; the production of cement and that of 

paper were all encouraged on the same scale. 

Nehru's dream incorporated the grand 

occidental visions of massive industrial plants, 

and the steady hum of machinery. 

The West, for most progressive Indians, had 

always functioned as a constantly referenced 

signifier. In the 1951 runaway hit film Albela, 

Master Bhagwan, a popular Bombay-based 

comedian, showed this interesting split between 

an old India that the hero, a poor dispatch clerk, 

wanted to leave behind. It weighed very heavily 

on him, first in the form of filial responsibility 

and dharma or duty to his aged mother. Our 

clerk dreamed of the new Indian cities he was 

hearing so much about. He wanted to utilize his 

unique talents as a singer and dancer in their 

urban brightly lit citylights ambience. 

Nehru's occidental impulse was also heard in the 

excessive use of westernized instruments that 

rang out loud and clear over the traditional 

Indian ones. The bongo, for instance, replaced 

the tabla; the oboe and clarinet overwhelmed the 

60 

Albela 

Indian basuri or flute, and the trumpet and 

saxophone silenced the shenai. C. 

Ramachandra, the film's maverick westerncrazy-music 

director, under Bhagwan's black 

bowtied and white shark-skinned baton, 

literally shook, rattled and roll'd Nehru's new 

India with his Hawain "Sholajo bhadke" or 

"when embers explode" song and dance that the 

entire nation was soon dancing and singing to. 

In 1952, the Central Government threw a 

spanner in Nehru's nation-building plans. It 

created a conservative censorship policy, 

separating A or Adult Viewing from U or 

Unrestricted Viewing. It banned all popular 

Hindi film-music from its All India radio 

stations. Fortunately Radio Ceylon resurrected 

the liberated Nehruvian vision that was 

constantly emphasized in the songs by 

popularizing Hindi film-music through 

successfully sponsored radio programs like 

"Binaca Geet Mala" fashioned on the familiar 

western models of the Pop Songs Hit Parade. 

Boot Polish 

In 1954, two films, literally presented "Chacha" 

or "Uncle" Nehru (since he was very fond of 

children) and showed how children responded 

to the Nehruvian Utopia of the first Five Year 

Plan. In Raj Kapoor's Boot Polish, the orphaned 

brother and sister go from the shameful act of 

begging to the more honest activity of boot 

polishing. While the wicked aunt who feeds 

them insists on their begging by trapping the two 

June 2012 


infants into all kinds of cunningly delivered 

filial blackmail, it is the one-legged bootlegger, 

John Chacha (maybe a cunning surrogate of 

Nehru himself), who shows them the boot polish 

way to respectability. His song "Nanhe munne 

bacche teri mutti mein kya hai" or "Sweet 

children, what do you hold in your fists" 

confirms that children can create and control 

their own destiny and don't need to rely on a 

decaying Indian tradition or their cruel elders. 

From 1954, I also want to pull out Chetan 

Anand's Taxi Driver for its representation of the 

maligned community of India's Anglo-Indians 

as actual characters in the film's narrative. 

Nehru's vision of India had particularly 

demanded the inclusion of all marginalized 

communities. Usually, the Anglo-Indians 

(products of British and Indian miscegenation), 

featured merely as musical extras in Hindi films 

because of their uninhibited abilities to perform 

western dances exceedingly well. The 

drummer in the Anglo-Indian cabaret dancer's 

band is a real Anglo-Indian musician, one 

Vernon Corke. But he doesn't merely mess 

around only with drums. His striking brown 

haired presence is also used to wash cabs and he 

even saves the hero's life. In Nehru's new India, 

the film seemed to be prophesizing, there was a 

place for everyone. (Satyajit Ray would invoke 

this same theme again with his brilliant 

characterization of the Anglo-Indian sales girl, 

Edith Simmons, in his 1963 film, Mahanagar.) 

61 

Raj Kapoor's Shri 420 that came out at the same 

time, was a conspicuously weak stereotypical 

critique of Nehru's urbanized progressive 

schemes. The city's corruption, to which the 

rural hero initially succumbs, hardly carried any 

critical weight. Binaries were simplistically 

offered with the warm-hearted poor always 

winning. The Virgin Mary archetype was Vidya, 

the poor but enlightened school teacher, 

abandoned temporarily for 

Taxi Driver Boot Polish 

Maya, the rich femme fatale illusion who 

literally Mary magdelained the country 

bumpkin. Even the songs (like the women's 

names) were hopelessly clichéd. The 

extravagantly westernized trumpet playing 

dancing girls number "Mudmud Ke Na Dekh 

mudmud ke" or "Are you looking at me, all bent 

over?" is defeated by the vernacular folk song 

choruses of the honest footpath city dwellers' 

"Dil ka haal sune dilwala" or "let us sit down and 

talk freely of our troubles." 

It was in Guru Dutt's Aar Paar (1954) and Mr 

and Mrs 55 (1955), that the Utopian 

possibilities, in the Nehruvian sense, of a newly 

minted Indian nation, released from over two 

hundred years of British colonial rule, and the 

overwhelming difficulties of trying to create a 

new social and cultural order on its own terms 

(and certainly also those, imaginatively 

borrowed, from the West), were captured very 

sensitively and convincingly. 

June 2012 


What was most conspicuous was the enactment, 

in both films, of a deliberately iconoclastic 

carnivalesque spirit. Illiterate taxi drivers spent 

late nights learning English to find better jobs in 

these newly resurrected metropolitan centers. 

Unemployed cartoonists did not mind 

communist labels being hurled at them. 

Respectable daughters, who massaged their 

stern father's legs and their egos behind strictly 

closed doors, were ready to elope into the 

dazzling outdoors world, with lovers who 

offered them its passions, its excitements, and 

its risks, instead of their mournful enactment of 

tedious morals and suffocating codes of duty. 

Wealthy nieces were willing to break all the 

locked doors of their conventional guardians to 

elope with jobless talented men, who often went 

hungry and slept on park benches when their 

landlords threw them out for not paying their 

rents. 

Nehru's Second Five Year Plan (1957-61) 

pushed industrialization considerably, but soon 

cracks started to appear. In 1957, All India 

Radio relented and started serving "light 

entertainments" in its "Vivid Bharati" service, 

knowing it had to compete with Radio Ceylon's 

overwhelming popularity. A new kind of 

ambitious business man emerged on the Indian 

horizon in the likes of the highly westernized 

Parsee, J.R.D. Tata who worked hard to 

establish an Air India Airline out of his own Tata 

Airlines, which he had started with a capital 

investment of 200,000 rupees. A local banya or 

money-lender (Gandhi's own caste), G.D. Birla, 

defiantly moved away from his traditional 

family in Pilani, Rajasthan, and started the very 

first prosperous Birla Jute Mills. While 

attracted to their visionary enterprises, Nehru 

was not willing to offer the Tatas and the Birla's 

any kind of Government support because he 

despised their entrepreneurial profit motives. 

The business of making money, simply, had no 

room in Nehru's India. 

62 

Pyaasa 

It was Guru Dutt's memorable Pyassa, released 

in 1957, that accurately questioned the failure of 

many of Nehru's five year plans. The nation was 

being betrayed and national interest was being 

replaced by personal interest. Sahir Ludhianvi's 

great song "Jiney naaz hain Hind par vo kahan 

hain" or You Who are Proud of India, where are 

you now" became the film's compelling thesis. 

When the celebrated poet, who dared to attack 

his newly awakened country, was finally thrown 

out of the auditorium, he was still singing. 

"Jalao do ise phook dalo ye duniya" or "burn this 

India that everywhere surrounds me." The poet 

and the whore, the film's two conspicuous 

outsiders, were ultimately defeated by the 

combined forces of their hostile families and 

their greedy friends, both in their domesticated 

and in their metropolitan spaces. They left, at 

the end, to seek an utopia outside the city where 

they hoped to find some kind of purity and 

salvation. 

June 2012 

Naya Daur 


The resistance to Nehruvian technology and the 

threat to abolish old agrarian ways was also 

expressed very openly in B.R. Chopra's Naya 

Daur in 1957. While electric machinery and 

automobiles threatened to retire the plough and 

the bullock cart permanently from the Indian 

landscape, a race between a petrol-driven bus 

and a horse-drawn carriage was waged to prove 

the merits and demerits of both, traditional and 

the newly manufactured machine, technology. 

In the final analysis, humanism prevailed, with 

the farmers learning how to manage the new 

forces and instruments of industrialization that 

would multiply their harvests and add a different 

kind of verdure and plenty to their primitive 

serene fields. 

1958, Hindi films began with a revival of the 

carnivalesque spirit that Guru Dutt had 

inaugurated in 1954/1955. This time the filmmaker 

was Satyen Bose, and the film was Chalti 

Ka Naam Gaadi. It introduced, perhaps for the 

only time, Hindi film's one very valiant attempt 

at rivaling the anarchic antics of Hollywood's 

very famous trio: the Marx Brothers. Bose 

presented us with India's own version of 

Groucho, Chico, and Harpo in the familiar 

trinity of the Bengali Ganguly brothers. The 

eldest, portrayed by Ashok Kumar, was good at 

two things. He ran a garage with his two 

brothers, and when not tinkering with cars, 

loved to box and was a confirmed misogynist. 

He came through as a curious combination of 

Groucho, especially in all his nasty asides about 

the world, and possessed the haughty demeanor 

of the stoical Margaret Dumont. The middle 

brother, portrayed by Anoop Kumar, was the 

dumb one and the constant bumbler. He took on 

the Harpo mantle and had to have his acts of 

anarchy actually explained to him by his 

brothers since he was constantly complaining 

"Manoo, aab mere Kya hoga" or "Manoo, what 

will happen to me?" It was the youngest 

brother, played by Kishore Kumar, who with his 

combination of Chico's chicanery and 

Groucho's irreverence really unleashed the 

Marxian iconoclasm directed against the 

respectable likes of Raja Hardayal and his son 

63 

Kumar Pradeep. Aiding them in their 

deliciously riotous enterprise was a voluptuous 

heroine played by Madhubala, and a 1928 

Chevrolet jalopy. While the former had to bear 

the slings and arrows of the two elder brothers 

plus the cupid darts of the youngest one who had 

fallen madly in love with her, the later 

functioned with all the oiled panache borrowed 

gleefully from Hollywood's Mack Sennet 

silent-film tradition of comedy, speeding up and 

slowing down the zany action from Bombay's 

Nariman Point to its Bandra suburban garage. 

Even the superbly composed and rendered 

musical numbers by S.D. Burman showed a 

skillful and clever adaptation of popular western 

songs. Burman's sexy "Ek laadhki bheegi 

bhaagi see" or "a lady, wet and running in the 

rain" was based on Tennessee Ernie Ford's hittopper 

"Sixteen Tons," but in the context of the 

film was orchestrated brilliantly by musical 

sounds all created from common garage 

implements and tools, some weighing less and 

some weighing more than sixteen tons! 

On April 18, 1955, President Sokarno of 

Indonesia inaugurated the first Non-Alignment 

Conference at Bandung. Twenty-nine countries 

attended it. But the man who had brought them 

here was none other than Nehru. He presented 

to the world a new kind of nationalism forged as 

a self-sufficient ideology that would not tolerate 

any kind of colonialism and would insist always 

on equality, mutual benefit, and peaceful coexistence. 

June 2012 

Phir Subah Hogi 


Ramesh Sahaigal's 1958 film Phir Subha Hogi 

dared to critique Nehru's newly defined nonaligned 

liberalism. Sahir Ludhianvi's great 

song, "Cheen-Arab hamara / Hindusthan 

Hamara/Rehnein Ko Ghar Nahen Hain/Saara 

Jehan Humara" or "China and Arabia are ours/ 

The whole of India is ours/We don't have a home 

to live in/But the whole world is ours" openly 

mocked the so-called friendly visits to India, on 

Nehru's invitation, of China's Chou-en-lai and 

Egypt's Nasser. 

The Indian Prime Minister, in spite of his nonaligned 

zeal, was not blind to other spheres of 

influence, especially the one that came from 

America, in the rock an' roll music explosion 

and the surfacing of the first popular 

India/American rock an' roll star, Shammi 

Kapoor, in Hindi film. 

Here was a new kind of hero that Nehru must 

have really chuckled at, secretly. He had no 

Indian tradition buried within him. He was 

loud, obnoxious, and displayed an enormous 

amount of passion even when performing 

simple gestures like passing his fingers over his 

long disheveled hair. He refused to play hide 

and seek, especially in his hot sexual pursuit of 

the females. And when he sang, he sang with his 

entire body and not merely his mouth. There 

was nothing noble or Apollonian about him. He 

was a pure Dionysian force, constantly on the 

prowl. He ate and drank with grand abandon 

and often expressed his wild mood swings in 

either frantic songs accompanied by gyrating 

females, or stalked the stage in mournful solos, 

accompanied by a single throbbing saxophonist 

called Darius! 

The title song of alliterations in Del Deke Dekho 

was borrowed outright, by music director Usha 

Khanna, from the popular chewing-gum 

American ditty "Sugar in the morning, sugar in 

the evening, sugar at suppertime" with the 

obvious pun on "sugar" as "sweet morsel" and 

"sweetheart." 

64 

In another film Tumse Aacha Kaun Hain (1969), 

Shammi began a provocative song with the 

single word "KIS"? In Hindi, it means "who," 

but this is also a pun on the English word "kiss." 

So when he sang, "Kis Ko Pyar Karu?" or "who 

should I love?" both connotations were 

implicated. In 1962's China Town, he actually 

did a very fine impersonation of Elvis Presley, 

especially in the song "Bar bar dekho" or 

"Keepa-keepa looking," where again, every 

verse ended with his asking the appreciative 

crowd to "talli ho" or "clap now," and when they 

did, to mimic immediately his role of the 

lothario hunter with the pun on those two 

exclamatory words now shifting to the 

proverbial English hunting call meaning of 

"Tally-ho!" 

In 1960, Nehru's patient encouragement of the 

largest minority caste and community in India, 

the Muslims, was richly rewarded in the Hindi 

film world by two very popular Muslim-ethos 

based films. The first was the Guru Dutt 

produced and M. Sadiq directed Muslim social 

Chaudvin Ka Chand. The film had nothing 

much to offer narratively except an authentic 

rendering of everyday Muslim life in Lucknow, 

in all of its carefully researched and presented 

nuances. It was refreshing to hear the Urdu 

alfazasses or terms of 'ammi jaan' for mother 

and 'abba jaan' for father and even the 

vernacularized "yaar" sounded much nicer than 

the regular "dost." 

June 2012 

Mughal-E-Azam 


It was K. Asif's Mughal-E-Azam, however, that, 

in the same year, put a consummate Muslim 

spell over the entire nation. The story revolved 

around Prince Salim, Akbar's son from his 

Hindu wife Jodabai. Salim fell madly in love, 

first with the statue of a female slave, and then 

with the live dancer who inspired that statue, the 

beautiful Anarkali. When Salim wanted to 

marry this woman, doubly disgraced by her 

lowly slave origins and her profession as a 

cheap dancer, Akbar pressurized Anarkali to 

give up Salim. 

What interests me, however, is the peculiar 

parallel this film evoked of a similar love drama 

that was actually taking place within the Nehru 

household itself! Nehru's only daughter Indira 

had fallen madly in love with a lowly Parsee by 

the name of Feroze Gandhi (no relation to the 

Mahatma who was a Hindu!). In spite of his 

liberalism, Nehru had opposed this match with 

all the zeal of an Akbar, but had finally agreed to 

it. Now, saddled with a brash Parsee son-in-law, 

the Parsees of India, especially in Bombay, had 

just begun to celebrate their own Parsee-E- 

Azam when Feroze (actually) did a salim, 

instead of a salaam, to his famous badsha fatherin-law. 

Right after his marriage, Feroze went 

out of his way, to sit under the Prime Minister's 

nose, in the very first bench of the opposition in 

the Lok Sabha or the Peoples' section of the 

Parliament. And from there, he daily issued a 

series of critical and negative diatribes against 

Nehru and his Nehruvian policies. This so 

enraged Nehru's Akbarian efforts that he issued 

a final ultimatum to his parseekaleed and 

anarkaleed daughter: either she come with her 

two sons and live with him and look after him 

(since he was getting on in years), or the doors of 

his house would be permanently closed to her 

and her children, if she chose that namak haram 

or not worth his salt Parsee. Indira, of course, 

was no Anarkali. Sensing her own dreams of 

one day sitting in her father's chair, she obeyed 

and left her husband. Stunned by this betrayal, 

Feroze took to excessive eating and drinking (in 

65 

typical Mugal style), and thankful to the Nehru's 

suffered and died of a massive premature heart 

attack on September 8, 1960. 

On October 23, 1962, Nehru's India was 

alarmed to learn from its morning newspapers 

that India was actually "at war with China." The 

"Hindi-Chini-Bhai Bhai" or the "Brotherhood 

Pact of India and China" that Nehru and Chowen-lai 

had so emphatically and publicly 

demonstrated was suddenly over. Six hundred 

Chinese troops had made their first moves and 

defeated the unprepared Indian army at strategic 

places in the mountainous Ladakh region in the 

North. China's resounding defeat of India was 

an event that Nehru took personally as a 

betrayal. 1962 ended with Nehru, a very broken 

and bitterly disappointed man. 

The Hindi film Haqeeqat, directed by Chetan 

Anand in 1964, was actually dedicated to Nehru 

because the 1962 debacle with China had 

seriously punctured and nullified many 

Nehruvian ideas of non-alignment. The war 

had also demoralized India's military 

capabilities of defending its borders from its 

foreign neighbors. The Hindi film industry had 

to rally the troops and filmically establish this 

treacherous Chinese betrayal to rebuild national 

confidence. This film focused on a small 

June 2012 

Haqeeqat 


platoon of Indian soldiers who sacrificed 

themselves like those three hundred Spartans, 

by holding the powerful Chinese army at bay, 

while the rest of their comrades retreated to 

safety. The film was openly anti-Chinese, and 

often in a stinging polemical way. While an 

Indian soldier actually bayoneted Mao's Little 

Red Book malignantly, a commanding officer 

openly denounced the Chinese against a 

documentary footage showing Chou-en-lai's 

friendly visit to India. As the camera picked out 

the dead and martyred bodies of the brave Indian 

soldiers, Kaifi Azmi's powerful song "Kar Chale 

hum fida jaan-o-tan saathiyon" in Mohammed 

Rafis's agonizing epitaphed voice bade farewell 

to these martyrs and personified movingly 

India's nationalized grief. Added to this elegiac 

moment, were documentary shots of Nehru 

himself addressing the troops of his confidence 

in them at the Republic Day Parade. 

China, however, had entered Hindi films in 

other peculiar ways as well. In Shakti 

Samantha's Howrah Bridge (1958), the Hindi 

film ventured into the immigrant space of the 

specified area of Chinatown that sprang up in 

many of India's leading westernized cities. The 

Chinese immigrants, in addition to introducing 

Indians to Chinese cuisine, were well known in 

India for their dentistry and shoemaking skills. 

But in this film, it was their trafficking in crime 

that registered their "other" presence. Helen, 

the popular cabaret dancer, who usually 

portrayed the Anglo-Indian vamp with the 

proverbial heart of gold, disguised herself in this 

film as a Chinese dancer and sang and danced 

the film's famous cabaret number, sung by 

Geeta Dutt, "Mera naam (or "My name is") Chin 

Chin Choo…Chin Chin Choo…Baba Chin 

Chin Choo…Dastaan mein Mai Aur Tu…Hello 

Mister, how do you do?" 

1963 was a quiet year for the exhausted and 

ailing Nehru. Repeatedly attacked by senior 

members of his own Congress Party, like the 

ultra conservative Moraji Desai, for preparing 

66 

his own daughter, Indira Gandhi, to take over his 

coveted prime-ministership, Nehru at the age of 

seventy-four in 1964, saw the end finally 

approaching. On January 6th, he suffered a 

stroke. On May 27th, at 6:00 a.m., he collapsed 

with a rupture of the aorta. He slipped into a 

coma, and at 2:00 p.m. he was pronounced dead. 

Perhaps the Hindi film that best personified his 

sad and lonely exit was Sunil Dutt's Yaadein or 

Only the Lonely that came out in 1964. In the 

expanse of two hours, a successful businessman 

was shown returning to his home that had 

steadfastly emptied itself of all the happiness it 

had once contained. His wife and two children 

had left him. Only their memories lay, scattered 

all over. The other woman that he had turned 

too, was also gone. Her traces, however, 

remained. Trying to find excuses and victims 

for his own self-justification, his gnawing 

prejudices slowly turned inwards. And when 

his childrens' toys started attacking him in his 

hallucinations, the nadir was finally reached, 

and he hanged himself with his wife's discarded 

sari. In the words of A.K. Ramanujan, this man, 

came into his house: 

to lose (himself) among other things 

lost long ago among 

other things lost long ago. 

Both, he and Nehru seemed to have arrived at a 

point where they realized that they had lost all 

their plans and all their dreams, which they had 

once designed for their homes and their nation. 

Memories were now painful and hopeless 

because they only produced a long parade of 

scapegoats. One finger may have pointed at the 

world, but there were three others which were 

bent and pointing to the self. Some battles were 

won, but many had been lost. And there were 

miles to go before one slept…miles to go…but 

what had really happened?…Where, o where 

was that desh or that nation in which the Ganges 

or the ganga had once flowed? 

June 2012 


Note: 

All background material related to Nehru and all the events that transpired during his long tenure from 

1947 to 1964 are taken from India/50: The Making of a Nation. Edited by Ayaz Memon and Ranjona 

Banerji. Bombay: Ayaz Memon & Book Quest Publishers. 1997. 

All material related to selectively chosen Hindi films that best represent the Nehruvian era are taken 

from Encyclopedia of Indian Cinema. New Revised Edition by Ashish Rajadhyaksha and Paul 

Willemen. New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1999. 

What was truly amazing was how both these books with their valuable information and insights 

released from my own psyche, (now in its fifty-ninth year) stored and buried memories of events, 

actual scenes from films, and songs that I had literally witnessed, heard, and experienced, having been 

born in 1949 (two years after India had achieved independence) and having lived both with Nehru's 

vision and the ones expressed by the Hindi cinema of that period. 

67 

June 2012 


Sudhir Nandgaonkar is a veteran 

film society activist, serving the 

movement for over forty years now. 

As a grass root worker he took 

initiative as the co-founder of 

Prabhat Chitra Mandal, Mumbai, a 

pioneer film society in the country. 

He is well known in the film festival 

circles as the Director of MAMI for 

the first ten years and as Diretor of 

Third Eye Asian film festival for 

over ten years now. He is 

passionately concerned with the 

well being of the movement and 

tries to set the path for the growth 

and suggests remedial measures 

whenever the film society activity 

faces problems. Here in this article 

he makes an assessment of the 

present position and suggests how 

the movement should tread its path 

in the changed scenario with the 

growth of digital technology. 

The Future of 

Film Society Movement 

Sudhir Nandgaonkar 

The dramatic technological developments of cinema and 

digital distribution today poses new challenges to the Film 

Society Movement and unless we take far-reaching measures 

to arrest the deterioration, the downward spiral of the 

movement would not be stalled. Therefore, it is important that 

we delve into the reasons why the movement faces its biggest 

battle for survival in the days to come. 

The Film Society Movement has faced similar challenges in 

the past. It may be recalled that the movement faced a similar 

threat in mid-1980s when colour television and video 

distribution arrived in India. Doordarshan began screening 

Indian and foreign films in late night slots on the weekends. 

The trend of home-viewing directly impacted the footfalls in 

cinema halls and consequently the membership of the Film 

Society Movement. 

The number of film societies shrunk from 300 to 150 across 

the country. The societies which survived the onslaught of 

these social and cultural changes experienced sharp drops in 

68 

June 2012 


memberships, and attendance at film screenings 

reduced to just 40 per cent. The mainstream 

cinema made significant changes in its content, 

technology and cinema-going experience to lure 

audiences back to the cinema halls. Film 

societies hosted international film festivals to 

hold on to the catchment of its dedicated 

patrons. 

While video had extensively damaged the film 

society movement, the introduction of DVDs 

surprisingly proved to be a shot in the arm for 

the movement. Always struggling for resources, 

the societies could save high expenses in 

screening 35mm films by showing easily 

available DVD versions. Now Societies will 

have only dedicated group of 200/300 members 

who are seriously interested in cinema. 

Pandit Nehru once described international film 

festival of India as “the window to the world”. 

However, now this window has transformed 

into an information superhighway with further 

technology leaps. Information of all kinds is 

easily available on television and internet at 

home and on mobile handsets for the common 

man. Now, we need not go to a cinema hall to 

watch films, but the films can reach you through 

multiple, digital platforms like satellite 

television, DVDs, internet and mobile 

telephone. 

With this new change, film societies will have to 

change its methods to stay relevant in the digital 

age. The 50-year-old movement needs a “new 

wave” to survive this tide. However, before we 

seek new solutions, it would be pertinent to 

understand the argument increasingly 

questioning the relevance of the film society. 

The critics argue that in the age of 24 x 7 

TVchannels beaming world cinema into living 

rooms, easy availability of DVDs, and the 

internet providing swift downloads on 3G and 

now 4G speeds, the film society movement 

becomes irrelevant to the society. 

Dr Mohan Aagashe gave a fitting reply to this 

critique at a summer camp organized by the 

69 

Western Region. “Nowadays, I hear the talk of 

how Film Society Movement is becoming 

irrelevant. I want to ask a counter question to the 

skeptics. When we have books available in the 

book shops, in libraries, why English or any 

other languages are taught in the universities at 

the graduation or post-graduation level?” 

Agashe asked. 

If we further dissect the argument of Dr. Agashe, 

we will understand that the digital gadgets are 

merely performing one role of a film society ie. 

screening good cinema. However, the other 

important task of a film society – spreading film 

culture by discussing films, organising film 

appreciation courses, creating literature on the 

aesthetics of cinema. Therefore, film societies 

are not obsolete, irrelevant. In fact, they are 

more sharply relevant in these times of 

information overload. Film societies can play 

the key role of a catalyst in guiding cinema 

lovers on the finer nuances of the film art. 

Earlier, screening good films was the prime 

focus of a film society. Now, societies should 

focus on the study of cinema, providing 

members with libraries of books, and DVDs, 

making accessible deeper literature on the art 

and craft of film-making. 

We must also note that Film Society Movement 

cannot run in isolation. Film societies should 

take cognizance of media atmosphere around 

us. For example, many universities have started 

Media Studies or Mass Communication studies. 

Sensing this new situation, I initiated the 

Campus Film Society concept in FFSI. West 

and South regions pursued it vigorously and 

today around 50 Campus Film Societies 

function in both the regions, catering youth in 

their formative years. 

The students who are members of Campus Film 

Societies will graduate after three years. Having 

experienced world cinema in college, we could 

expect them to enroll for Film Societies outside 

college as well. Thus the youngsters will be part 

of the movement. 

June 2012 


I would suggest that the FFSI, the apex body 

steering the Film Society Movement, as well as 

individual film Societies should both focus on 

study of cinema. 

Individual Society: 

A) Should form a study group. Not all, but few 

members will join it. But it will send out a 

subtle message to all the members that a film 

society does not exist only for watching 

films. 

B) Study group may meet once in a month. It 

should be informed in the beginning about 

the efforts of Govt. to create film culture in 

the country. The reading material on the 

films screened should be provided in 

regional languages. 

C) Excursions could be organized to visit film 

institutes or archives etc. 

D) To create a sense of study, we should 

associate with educational field. Invite a V 

C. or the college principal to inaugurate 

your four-day festival. 

E) Audience polls. Distribute slips before film 

screening and ask members their rating – 

Good, average, Bad. These efforts will 

create awareness among the members that 

they are joining film societies to study 

cinema, not just watching the films. This 

sense of study will give him\her identity that 

he is different from average cinegoer going 

to watch popular films. Societies, if 

possible, can arrange lectures or one day 

appreciation courses, etc. 

FFSI: 

1) To give impetus to the study of cinema, the 

FFSI should make structural changes and 

start a state council based on regional 

language basis. 

70 

2) The state council can organize five-day 

Film Appreciation courses with the help of 

NFAI in regional language. It will 

encourage people untouched by FSM to 

enter its folds. 

3) State council can approach State Govt. for 

funding. It is already started in Kerala and 

Karnataka. 

Four page e-newsletter in state language should 

be provided to connect all the societies and 

mentioning their activities. 

4) Institute the award for best film society in 

the state. The award should go to the 

secretary of the society. 

5) Encourage film society members to attend 

nearby International Film Festival or IFFI 

Goa. 

6) Guide & help film societies to solve 

problems faced by the Society. 

These are some of measures I could suggest. 

The State Council can devise more methods to 

emphasis the importance of international 

cinema and the study of cinema. 

Jadavpur University in Kolkata was the first to 

start cinema course in India way back in 1970's. 

During 80's, Chitrabani a small film society in 

Kolkata organized a one week film appreciation 

course and wrote to Ray about it. 

Satyajit Ray welcomed the idea and wrote back 

– 

I find it most heartening that such an event (Film 

Course) has taken place. I have been hoping for 

long time that something concrete should be 

done about the dissemination of Film Culture 

among the young people in our country. This 

course is surely a step in the direction. I hope 

th 

that the enterprise will continue. - (29 April, 

1990.) 

June 2012 


R e v i e w s 

Kurmavatara 

(India/Kannada/2011/ 145 mins) 

Dir: Girish Kasaravalli 

The film Kurmavatara, deals with a very sensitive subject, 

which is very craftily and intricately handled to make it mirror 

today's contemporary social life in India in stark reality. The 

subject is very sensitive as it refers to the portrayal of the life 

of Mahatma Gandhi, in a TV serial to be telecast in a particular 

channel. The person selected to play the all important role of 

Gandhi is Ananda Rao, an honest, faithful and obedient 

Government employee who is about to retire from service. He 

goes early and leaves late from his office, spends most of his 

time there, and the only other activity that he is associated is to 

participate in evening Bhajans (Group singing of hymns) 

before retiring for the day. He is not intimately connected with 

his family; he has lost his wife because of cancer. He follows 

Bhagavadgita and accordingly he attends to his duty with all 

the sincerity. 

Ananda Rao does not know the rudiments of acting, and he 

also does not know anything about Gandhi, the only factor 

71 

June 2012 


which counts in his favour is his resemblance to 

Gandhi. He is forced to accept the offer of 

playing Gandhi with much reluctance, mainly 

because of the pressure from his son Jayu and 

his wife who are enamored by the prospect of 

earning handsome remuneration for acting and 

hope to give a better education to their only son. 

His son is engaged in speculating share 

business, like gambling and he wants to make 

quick money. 

Playing Gandhi's role becomes a nightmarish 

experience for Ananda Rao. He gets ridiculed 

by every one for his bad performance, including 

his own grandson. In the process, he realizes that 

he did not care for his wife who longed for his 

presence during her last days when she died of 

cancer. He also regrets he was not able to give a 

better education to his son, because he remained 

non-corrupt. He is disillusioned, and in no mood 

to continue, but he is forced to persist at any cost 

by his family, and is made to study the life of 

Gandhi through books for giving a better 

performance. By studying Gandhi he also 

comes to know that the director of the serial has 

taken liberties to alter the story for his 

convenience to make it popular. When he raises 

objection to certain sequences, the director 

makes his intention very clear, that he has no 

reverence for Gandhi or his ideals; his only 

objective is to make it popular and make money. 

The only redeeming factor for Anand Rao is, he 

becomes popular for playing Gandhi. He is 

recognized by the public; he now has fans, 

obliges many with his autographs and poses for 

photographs. He is able to influence the corrupt 

establishment to get things done for his friends. 

His son wants to use his influence for gains. 

Interestingly, Rao develops intimacy with 

Susheela, the erstwhile star of the film world 

who is now in the twilight of her career and 

72 

playing the role of Kasturba. Rao admires her 

for her proficiency in acting and she in turn 

admires him for his knowledge on Gandhi and 

his ideals. This familiarity generates interest in 

him and he is inspired to dress well and look 

smarter. 

Unfortunately, there is no end for Rao's misery, 

it continues, he is not able to get the role of 

Godse, the killer of Gandhi for his young friend 

Iqbal for the fear of possible communal rift that 

it may create. His son is arrested on criminal 

charges for issuing a cheque that has bounced. 

He continues to get blamed by his director for 

blemishes in his performance. Ultimately when 

the climax scene was to be shot, his murder by 

Godse, his inept acting creates ruckus, a large 

number of shots wasted and as a climax Anand 

Rao confesses that he is a bad actor, can no 

longer tolerate this agony, it is better he ends his 

life. He tells Godse (actor) 'Please finish me.' 

The concluding shot of the murder of Gandhi is 

shown in the midst of title credits in the 

beginning. Ironically when the Pistol shot is 

fired and Gandhi succumbs there is an all-round 

applause from the onlookers. For a moment it 

appears amusing as it conveys celebration. 

Anand Rao, the actor suffers an attack and 

collapses. The previous link for this shot is 

shown at the end of the film. It is pertinent that 

we should not miss the beginning of the film. 

June 2012 


The film as a whole reflects the true picture of the pathetic state of affairs that is prevailing today in the 

country after six decades of the demise of Mahatma Gandhi, who got us freedom, whom we adored as 

father of the nation, and accepted his ideals as the guiding factors in our public and private lives. All the 

evils he fought against, like rampant corruption in the corridors of power, degeneration in public life, 

distortion of historical facts, greed for power and money, devalued morality and ethics, strained 

domestic relations; all such factors prevailing now, have been effectively visualized in the film. 

No wonder, Anand Rao, the Gandhi in proxy, was totally disillusioned, in reality! 

It is definitely not surprising that Girish's name again figures in the list of National Award winners, and 

many feel that he deserved a better recognition for the film than what he got. It is to be mentioned here 

that Shikaripur Krishnamurthi, professor in a college and a noted HRD trainer has given a memorable 

performance as a 'bad actor' in a role that suits him perfectly. 

73 

June 2012 



Byari 

(India / Byari / 2011 / 100 mins) 

Dir: K.P.Suveeran 

Byari is a film made in Byari language, only spoken with no 

script, and prevalent in the border regions of Karnataka and 

Kerala. The film speaks vociferously on the suffering and 

predicament of an innocent girl, who is treated as a 

commodity by the ethnic group that follows the strict 

marriage laws of the religion that is prevailing in the Muslim 

community. It has a lean story, a story of relevance, and it is 

very effectively told through visuals that are highly 

absorbing. An young girl, Nadira who is yet to attain 

maturity, is got married to a man, Rashid, who is almost three 

times her age. But her marriage is a happy one, they have a 

child and they live in harmony and love each other. A trivial 

dispute between Nadira's father and Rashid turns out to be a 

disaster for the girl. Nadira and her child are forcibly taken 

away by her father. This is unbelievable, since even her 

husband, Rashid is caught unaware. After a few days the child 

is also snatched away from Nadira by Rashid's family. Nadira 

remains now without the child, spends agonizing days. The 

father now becomes restless; without Nadira's knowledge he 

74 

June 2012 


forces Rashid to divorce her on the pretext that she is not willing to return to him, which is false. Now he 

is on the lookout for a new husband for Nadira. The search is on, but does not materialize. Rashid is still 

in deep love with Nadira, he wants her back. But the marriage rule does not permit. The rule prescribes 

that Nadira should be married to somebody else at least for a day, get divorce and then only she can 

come back to her husband Rashid. Again the search is on, this time it is for a temporary husband. Nadira 

is skeptical about the prospects. She is afraid, things may become complicated if she becomes 

pregnant, and the temporary husband may not oblige to divorce. However, she is married to her 

childhood companion who had a desire to marry her, and it ends there. 

The director Suveeran makes his debut with this film and has given a neat presentation. Having won the 

best feature film award of 2011 at the national level, Suveeran makes a promising beginning for a 

bright career. 

75 

June 2012 

H. N. Narahari Rao 


Terrence Malick's 

The Tree of Life 

Terrence Malick, one of America's most respected 

filmmakers, first attracted attention through Badlands (1973) 

a film very much in the same mold as Arthur Penn's Bonnie 

and Clyde (1967) and Robert Altman's Thieves like Us (1974) 

in that it is about a young couple going on a robbery spree in 

the depression era and eventually coming to a tragic or bad 

end. What distinguishes Malick's film from the other two is 

the director's lyricism, his deep sense of the beauty of the land 

– where Bonnie and Clyde is straightforwardly dramatic and 

Altman's film places its emphasis on social satire. Malick 

followed up Badlands with Days of Heaven (1978), another 

startlingly beautiful film set in rural America in the early part 

of the century. Both these films set Malick apart from 

Hollywood – as a visionary and artist rather than a storyteller 

with America being the constant presence invoked by his 

palette. Although both these films were critical triumphs, 

Malick made no films for twenty years when he made the 

exquisite The Thin Red Line (1998) a war film set in the 

Pacific in 1943. Unlike Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan, 

which came out in the same year, had a large star cast and 

garnered every conceivable Oscar, Malick's film is deeply 

melancholy and not the same exercise in American 

patriotism. After another film The New World (2005) which 

received mixed reviews, Malick has made another ethereal 

film which was under development for several years – The 

Tree of Life (2011) which received near-unanimous praise as 

the best international film of 2011. 

76 

June 2012 


At the centre of The Tree of Life is an American 

family, the O'Briens, in Waco, Texas. The 

O'Briens have three sons and the oldest is Jack 

who grows up to be an architect (Sean Penn). 

Somewhere in the 1960s Mrs O'Brien (Jessica 

Chastain) receives news of the death of her son 

RL at the age of 19 and this is communicated to 

her husband (Brad Pitt) when he is at an airport 

somewhere. A section of this part of the film is 

taken up by the parents' grief, how they are 

comforted by the community and how they try 

to get over it. The film travels back and forth 

between Jack in the present and his memories of 

his childhood and adolescence. Mr O'Brien is an 

authoritarian father who tries to 'do his best' but 

this means that he rules his family with an iron 

hand with his children – especially Jack – 

frequently receiving harsh punishment. Mr 

O'Brien wanted to be a musician but is now an 

engineer with various minor patents to his 

credit. He is not as successful as he might have 

liked to be and he is resentful of others who have 

been, attributing their success to declining 

moral standards. These segments of the film are 

wonderfully acted with Brad Pitt and Hunter 

McCracken (as the young Jack) excelling. The 

tension between father and son especially at the 

breakfast table is palpable. Although the family 

life shown in the film apparently owes to 

Terrence Malick's own early life (about which 

he has been reticent), there are indications that 

the O'Briens are really an abstraction – the 

archetypal American family with its dreams, 

hopes, tensions and disappointments. There is 

perhaps a clue in the casting of Brad Pitt and 

Sean Penn in the key male roles because one 

cannot imagine a Jack Nicholson or a Robert 

Downey Jr. in either of them. 

77 

Although both Pitt and Penn began their careers 

with character roles – Brad Pitt perhaps in 

Thelma and Louise (1991) and Sean Penn in 

films like The Falcon and the Snowman (1985) 

– they have gradually moved into another kind 

terrain which they share with Tom Hanks, 

playing the quintessential American male. In 

contrast to other contemporary Hollywood stars 

like Tom Cruise and George Clooney who 

specialize in genre roles, DiCaprio whose roles 

suggest an individuality of sorts, Pitt, Penn and 

Hanks allow people to inhabit them, as though 

they were stand-ins for the national identity. It is 

this quintessential 'American' characteristic of 

Brad Pitt that Alejandro González Iñárritu 

shrewdly harnesses in Babel (2006) when he 

makes a political film about globalization. In 

Babel Brad Pitt becomes the American dealing 

with Moroccans, Mexicans and Japanese. To 

differentiate between Brad Pitt and James 

Stewart who also played an idealized American 

(It's a Wonderful Life, 1946), Jimmy Stewart's 

characters were slighter in stature, perhaps 

corresponding to 'local America' and not the 

global colossus that America has been for the 

past few decades. 

In The Tree of Life Brad Pitt plays the head of the 

archetypal American family and this means 

something very important because Hollywood 

valorizes the nuclear family as no other cinema 

does. It is clearly beyond the scope of this 

review to examine this issue deeply but in 

America the simplest kind of social 

organization existed independently before 

leading to more complex forms, and this also 

accounts for the moral significance of the family 

(and heterosexual monogamy) in Hollywood. 

As Alexis de Tocqueville notes in his 

monumental treatise on America, for the 

majority of the nations of Europe, political 

existence commenced in the superior ranks and 

was gradually communicated to the different 

members of the social body. In America, on the 

other hand, social organization began at the 

smallest level. The township was organized 

June 2012 


efore the county, the county before the State, 

the State before the Union. The simplest kind of 

social organization led to more complex forms. 

The family plays a more significant role in the 

simpler kinds of social organization and there is 

perhaps an association between this and the 

mythical dimensions assumed by the nuclear 

family in American popular culture. As 

evidence, the western created a durable 

mythology out of the origins of the American 

nation and John Ford's films look to the white 

nuclear family (wife and children) as the 

civilizing influence in the frontier – even while 

the man is fighting Indians – and making the 

land safe for civilization. The American nuclear 

family is made important because it embodies 

the 'American way of life', becomes an emblem 

for the nation and therefore commands the same 

loyalty. So central is the family to The Tree of 

Life that there are few exchanges between 

members of the family and others from the 

community. Even in the present, the adult Jack 

spends his days reflecting upon his own past and 

one cannot recall a sequence in which he is not 

ruminating alone even when in company. At the 

conclusion of the film when Jack meets the 

people in his life, those he is united with are also 

from his own family. If this conclusion is 

reminiscent of the one from Fellini's 8 ½ (1963) 

in which Guido encounters all the people from 

his past in a circus ring, those dancing around 

him are mainly from outside his family. 

The film begins with a quotation from the Book 

of Job. Job was a prophet punished by God for 

no reason and this part of the Old Testament has 

to do with deep suffering for which there is no 

ostensible rationale. Malick is evidently making 

a connection between this kind of suffering and 

what the O'Briens undergo at the death of their 

19-year-old son. This is clearly problematic 

because death – even of the young – is a routine 

occurrence which cannot be compared to what 

Job underwent. This inordinate importance 

given to the boy's death, the reader must be 

78 

reminded, finds correspondence in America 

being overly preoccupied with 'zero casualty 

wars' – its concern with protecting the lives of its 

own citizens when it is casual about taking the 

lives of other people across the globe. 

Once all these characteristics of The Tree of Life 

are taken note of, the film emerges as a dubious 

political undertaking. It is in this context that the 

most visually striking parts of the film also 

become suspect. Often framing segments of the 

family story about the O'Briens are magnificent 

bits dealing with creation and the origin of life 

on the planet – from galaxies and nebulae to 

gushing rivers and erupting volcanoes to 

protozoa and dinosaurs. One is initially 

rapturous about these visual treats until one 

wonders about their place in the film's telelogy, 

about their purpose. 

All fiction, it is apparent, relies on the action in it 

being geared towards a purpose/ teleology of 

some sort. In fact, it is only teleology which 

makes a complete story out of a narrative 

because all recounting is narration but all 

narratives are not stories. At every instant of a 

film or a novel, therefore, we are asking the 

question 'Where is all this leading?' and our 

satisfaction with a story (novel or film) depends 

on how the conclusion follows from initial 

exposition because the two are intimately 

connected. Once this connection is granted, it 

begins to seem that the American family in The 

Tree of Life is the culmination of a process which 

begins with Creation and includes the 

dinosaurs. If this reading appears implausible, 

the reader may consider how it would look if the 

'process' beginning with Creation culminated in 

a Chinese or Eskimo family. If it were an Indian 

family, would it not be ludicrous for the Cosmic 

Egg to hatch – only to lead to the Anil Kapoor 

and/or Salman Khan in the same way that The 

Tree of Life leads to Brad Pitt and Sean Penn? If 

one were to look for a political pronouncement 

to reflect this belief in the elemental aspect of 

American life – the sense of Americans rather 

June 2012 


than any other people being central to humanity, this may be in Condoleeza Rice's assertion that 

'America is the essential nation'. 

The Tree of Life makes it seem that America is not the product of history but almost elemental, that 

culture has not even mediated in the construction of Americans. It is an entrancing, exquisite film but it 

will perhaps only be valuable for clues as to how America regards itself in the global age, its 

preoccupation with itself leading it to conclude that the sentiments favored by it have the 

characteristics of something owing to natural law. This covert significance is rendered more valuable 

because the author is not the average filmmaker trying to make a blockbuster but a genuine visionary. 

Terrence Malick is an extraordinary talent but The Tree of Life may eventually only serve anthropology 

and a visionary who produces a work useful only to anthropologists has evidently acted in folly. 

79 

June 2012 

MK Raghavendra

Indian Film Culture - 16.cdr - federation of film societies of india

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