Having
recently watched ‘The Apu Trilogy’, a film by Satyajit Ray, rightly regarded as
one of the best works of literature in the history of world cinema, I cannot
help but put in my thoughts about this classic masterpiece. The trilogy
composed of ‘Pather Panchali’ or ‘Song of the Road’, ‘Aparajito’
or ‘The Unvanquished’ and ‘Apur Sansar’ or ‘The World of Apu’ is based on
two Bengali novels Pather Panchali (1929) and Aparajito (1932) written
by Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay. Having won the award for Best Human
Document in 1956 Cannes Film Festival, the film
dialogues certainly has an impeccable literature touch. Portrayed in a
lucid fashion that even with limited knowledge of bengali (someone like me) can
completely identify with the depiction of characters and storyline
effortlessly.
The films set in Bengal in the
1920s, articulately offers a sublime purity of sensitivity and maturity of the
time when life was traditional and hard in the rural areas of India. As the movie proceeds, the myriad ‘Mono no Aware’ spectrum of
the trilogy stays in the mind of the audience bounding them to contemplate the
quintessence of a fine film. Like a divine hum of the pious bird of good omen,
it affirms the simplicity and elegance of a cinema, no matter how far in our
cynicism we may stray. Bestriding
way beyond pretentiousness, the unprecedented and universal cinematic
exposition of abandonment and independence in the film effortlessly creates a world of its own enticing the audience into it
that it makes one feel part of it. The trilogy filmed between 1950 and 1959, a
period when prolific realm of Indian film industry had conventionally stayed
within the narrow confines of swashbuckling musical romances; this piece of art
altogether established a new cinema for India creating an impact about the
films of one’s own culture.
With the artistic scene like
train roaring at the far end of a field, representing the desire of a child to
know the world and the promise of the future, at the same time connecting and
separating the characters throughout, foregrounding the strong feelings of
human relationships the films benchmarks the realm of ideas of director’s
cut. The first film, ‘Pather Panchali’, has a relatively simple plot
largely consisting of a series of short, loosely connected vignettes tracing
out the life of a poor Brahmin family with head
of the family, Harihar (Kanu Banerji), who dreams of being a poet, bringing
Sarbajaya (Karuna Banerji), his pregnant wife, and Durga (Uma Das Gupta), his
daughter, from Benares back to the ancestral rural home. The young family also
takes care of an aged aunt, Indir Thakrun (Chunibala Devi). The sheer
artistry of the tenderness of the heartwarming bonds, the authenticity of
beauty and lyricism, and the portrayal of death, poverty and deprivation with
the emotional ride of love, mirth, grief, energy, terror, disgust and anger, undeviatingly connects one to subconscious. In
the fading of the light, as the 80 year old, stooped double, deeply wrinkled,
Chunibala Devi, sings in the movie in her sad feeble voice, “Hori Din To Gelo,
Sandhya Holo, Par Koro Amaare” meaning “God, the day is finished, evening has
descended, now please take me across”, it completely embodies the brilliant
classicality of an artistic production.
The second film, Aparajito
is about estrangement between the mother (Sarbajaya) and her son Apu (who goes to Calcutta
to study) causing her acute pain, loneliness and eventually death. The
most extraordinary turning point in the trilogy is in the third film Apur
Sansar, when Apu, an unemployed graduate, goes with his best friend, Pulu,
to attend the wedding of Pulu's cousin, Aparna. Aparna, played by 14 year old
Sharmila Tagore characterizes the impeccable brilliance of her acting skills
even at such a tender age. During the wedding, Apu gets married under
extraordinary circumstances to Aparna, who later in the film dies during
childbirth leaving Apu alone and shattered. Apu blames his son (Kajal) for
Aparna’s death and swears never to see him but later unites with him after 5
years taking him along to Calcutta.
If you have an inclination towards art, this would be one of the best films you would ever come across. The Trilogy hinging on
instantly recognizable aspects of the human condition with the penchant for
close-ups, the dramatic zooms, the occasional submission to simple melodrama
and the sheer lust for life is a work of an absolute
unimpeachable integrity which only a few films makers of the world have
matched, and Ray is undoubtedly one of them.
