Mahapurush (1965): The Impostor That Impresses Mahapurush (1965): The Impostor That Impresses Mahapurush is one of Satyajit Ray’s most unusual — and most mischievous — films. Here, Ray turns away from lyrical humanism and inward landscapes, seen in the unrelated prequel Kapurush , choosing instead satire as his weapon: light, playful, and uncomfortably sharp. Harks back to Ray's satirical treatment in Parsh Pathar . Ray uses satire as a means to hit back at social evils. The story centres on Charuprakash Ghosh as Birinchi Baba , a self-proclaimed holy man who claims he has debated Plato, taught Einstein relativity, and walked side-by-side with Christ and Buddha. What makes this so deeply funny — and deeply unsettling — is how seriously the characters take him. Ghosh’s performance is remarkable because he never winked at the audience. Calm, assured, almost amused...
Kapurush (1965) – Satyajit Ray’s Exploration of Unfinished Business and Human Contrasts Kapurush (1965) – Satyajit Ray’s Exploration of Unfinished Business and Human Contrasts I think Satyajit Ray spent sleepless nights over the unfinished business of Charulata (1964) . Perhaps the unresolved question of what happens to Charulata (Madhabi Mukherjee) and Amal (Soumitra Chatterjee) motivated him to make Kapurush (1965) . Kapurush is an attempt to re-unite the two forbidden lovers. The locale is different — the tea gardens of Siliguri, the time period is different — mid-60s, the names are different — Karuna and Amitabh Ray, yet even this attempt at reunification ends negatively. What struck me about Kapurush is the contrast of the three main characters. It is this very contrast that makes this film eminently watchable. The Coward Amitabh Ray (played by Soumitra Chatterjee) is the quintessential coward — charmi...
Charulata (1964): When Ray’s Subtlety Turns Elusive | Satyajit Ray Film Review Charulata (1964): When Ray’s Subtlety Turns Elusive Charulata (1964) is not Satyajit Ray’s best work. In fact, for a film so routinely described as one of his most “perfect” creations, it left me oddly cold. The lonely-housewife-in-love idea is buried so deep under restraint and suggestion that the emotion almost evaporates. I honestly couldn’t tell what Charulata felt for Amal, her brother-in-law—was it love, attraction, intellectual excitement, or just the relief of being noticed? Ray wants us to read between the lines, but here the lines are so faint that the reading becomes guesswork. The Story: Quiet Loneliness in a Grand House Set in late 19th-century Calcutta, Charulata follows a wealthy but emotionally neglected housewife married to Bhupati Dutta, a well-meaning intellectual who runs a political newspaper. Bhupati ...
Mahanagar (1963): A Simple Woman in a Big City | Sachit Murthy Mahanagar (1963): Satyajit Ray’s Quiet Revolt Satyajit Ray returns to black and white after Kanchenjunga with Mahanagar in 1963. Man, this fellow could churn out films at an astonishing pace. And he returns with a bang. This one is an absolute classic. Mahanagar is the story of Arati Mazumdar, played by Madhabi Mukherjee . A simple housewife in an orthodox household, the film charts Arati’s journey—from being gently hemmed in by domestic expectations to stepping out into the world to financially support her family, and finally to standing up to injustice, even at the cost of upsetting the very financial applecart that sustains them. Madhabi Mukherjee as Arati Mazumdar — a woman whose revolution is ethical, not theatrical. The film makes a strong statement on the value of women in society, and not just through Arati. Ray spreads this id...
Kanchenjunga (1962): Ray’s Cinema of Contrasts, Concealed by Colour and Clouds Kanchenjunga (1962): Ray’s Cinema of Contrasts, Concealed by Colour and Clouds Kanchenjunga occupies a quietly distinctive place in Satyajit Ray’s body of work. It is his first colour film, and yet it never behaves like one. There is no chromatic bravado here, no announcement that Ray has “arrived” at colour. Instead, the palette is muted, patient, almost reticent. Greens breathe softly, greys drift in and out, and sunlight appears only when it feels earned. Colour in Kanchenjunga is not decoration—it is temperament. And that choice is telling, because Kanchenjunga is a film built almost entirely on contrasts. Ray structures the film around people who reflect, resist, or quietly negate one another. There is very little conventional drama. No major events. No revelations that explode into action. Instead, Ray places contrasting personalities in proximity and ...
Abhijan (1962) — A Masterclass in Character Building | Sachit’s Blog Abhijan (1962) — A Masterclass in Character Building Cinema Context — Why Abhijan (1962) Matters Soumitra Chatterjee is fast becoming Satyajit Ray's blue-eyed boy. Already, this great actor has featured in four of Ray's movies: Apur Sansar , Devi , The Postmaster , and now Abhijan . His collaboration with Ray is a fascinating study in trust and depth — Ray seems to sense and harness every subtlety in Soumitra’s performance. Watching Abhijan is as much about understanding Soumitra as it is about understanding Ray’s filmmaking ethos. Character Building: The Heart of Abhijan Narsingh is one of the most complex characters in Ray’s filmography. A proud Rajput, a taxi driver by circumstance, and a man wrestling with internal rage, he embodies a collision of class, ego, and suppressed emotion. Ray never spells out his inner conflicts; he lets Soumi...
Nuggets of Sholay — Fifteen: Baap Ke Kandhe Pe Bete Ka Janaza Nuggets of Sholay — Fifteen: Baap Ke Kandhe Pe Bete Ka Janaza AK Hangal is an actor I deeply admire, and in Sholay , his portrayal of Imam Sahab was unforgettable. One line, delivered at a pivotal moment, captures the essence of duty and burden in a village torn between fear and responsibility. Muhavra: Baap Ke Kandhe Pe Bete Ka Janaza (बाप के कंधे पे बेटे का जनाज़ा) This line comes when Ahmed's body is brought back to the village. The villagers are quarreling over who will now protect the village from dacoits. Imam Sahab steps in and calmly says, " Do not carry this burden. Do you know which is the biggest burden? Baap ke kandhe pe bete ka janaza ". Literally, it means the greatest burden is the death of a child, carried even by a father. In context, Imam Sahab emphasizes perspective: compared to such a tragedy, other disputes are small. This phrase is rare...
Teen Kanya (1961): Sampati – A Tale of Freedom, Conformity, and Ray’s Return to Form Teen Kanya (1961): Sampati – Review A Return to Ray’s Strengths After the misfire of Monihara , Satyajit Ray returns with full command in Sampati , the final jewel in the Teen Kanya anthology. It feels as if Ray goes back to what he has always done best — the soil of rural Bengal, delicately observed lives, and character journeys unfolding with poetic clarity. Story & Themes At the centre of Sampati are two young protagonists locked in a constant emotional tug-of-war: Mrinmoyee (played by a young and radiant Mrinal Sen) and Amulya (Soumitra Chatterjee, still memorable from the delectable Apur Sansar ). Mrinmoyee is a spirited village girl who refuses to surrender her childhood. She enjoys her free, playful life and sees no reason to conform. But her world collapses when Amulya decides that she is the girl he wants to marry — despite the fact that she mocks h...
Monihara Review (1961) – Satyajit Ray’s Teen Kanya Analysis Monihara (1961) – Satyajit Ray’s Rare Misfire | Teen Kanya Review For the first time, I found myself not enjoying a Satyajit Ray film. Monihara — the second story in the Teen Kanya anthology — feels unlike Ray’s usual work. It lacks what he does best: deep character exploration. Instead, the film drifts toward plot-heavy storytelling and a flirtation with the horror genre. Unfortunately, neither is developed enough to make the narrative compelling. A Frame Narrative That Fizzles The film opens with a voyeuristic narrator telling a story to a mysterious stranger on a riverbank. The stranger is obviously more than he seems, and the “reveal” at the end is entirely predictable. The setup promises suspense but never quite builds it. Characters That Don’t Add Up Phanibhushan Saha and his wife Monimalika move into their inherited mansion in M...
The Postmaster (Teen Kanya) Review: Satyajit Ray’s Quietest Heartbreak The Postmaster (Teen Kanya): Satyajit Ray and the Art of Gentle Devastation Forty minutes. That’s all Satyajit Ray needs to quietly dismantle your heart. The Postmaster , the first story in the Teen Kanya anthology, may be short, but it contains an entire emotional universe. No melodrama. No big speeches. Just people, circumstance, and the ache of things left unsaid. At the centre of the film is Ratan — an orphaned village girl whose life revolves around chores, routine, and survival. When Nandlal, a city-bred postmaster, arrives in the remote village of Ulapore, he treats the posting as a punishment. For Ratan, it becomes something else entirely. She serves him tirelessly, nurses him when he falls ill, and slowly — almost imperceptibly — begins to attach her fragile hopes to him. Nandlal, without quite realising it, does somethin...
Devi (1960) – Satyajit Ray’s Bold Exploration of Faith and Blind Devotion | Film Review Devi (1960) – Satyajit Ray’s Bold Exploration of Faith and Blind Devotion Overview Satyajit Ray made a very bold movie with Devi (1960). In a country steeped in religious fervour and suffocating blind faith, Ray dares to question generally accepted norms — not loudly, not provocatively, but with quiet, devastating clarity. What makes Devi unsettling is that Ray does not attack belief itself; instead, he exposes how belief, once weaponised by authority and tradition, can destroy lives. The film is less an argument and more a slow, unavoidable reckoning. Themes of Faith and Conflict Essentially, Devi is about the collision of faiths — where one person’s belief becomes another’s undoing. Ray shows how faith is never neutral; it always operates within relationships, hierarchies, and power structures. What one character considers divine t...
Parash Pathar (1958) – Satyajit Ray’s Magical Satire on Greed Parash Pathar (1958) – Satyajit Ray’s Magical Satire on Greed About the Film Parash Pathar (1958) is an astonishing film. Not because science fiction was conjured up by Satyajit Ray for Indian cinema — that in itself is only a device — but because it is laced with satire at every turn. Long after the film was over, I found myself thinking, almost involuntarily, “what exactly is Mr. Ray trying to tell us here?” The laughter is easy, almost generous. The discomfort arrives later. What follows is my take. The Setting: Post-Independence India The film is set in an India that has just gained independence and is struggling to stand on its feet. This unease is reflected through the life of Paresh Chandra Dutt , played by Chhabi Biswas (see Jalsaghar ) — a rugged existence, cramped living quarters, and a hand-to-mouth routine that...
Jalsaghar (1959): The Autotragic Life of Biswambhar Roy | Satyajit Ray Film Review Jalsaghar (1959): The Autotragic Life of Biswambhar Roy I just coined that word in the headline. It doesn’t exist in the dictionary. Autotragic is a person who is the architect of their own misery — someone who actively participates in their own destruction. That makes the protagonist of Satyajit Ray’s Jalsaghar (1959) an unmistakably autotragic figure. Biswambhar Roy isn’t crushed by fate or circumstance alone. He makes a series of choices — driven by pride, nostalgia, and denial — that slowly but surely dismantle his own life. Let’s examine each facet of it. Roy’s Zamindari The estate is already in decline when the film begins. Fertile land has been lost to erosion, income has dried up, and Roy has long abandoned the responsibilities of stewardship. His zamindari survives only as a title and a memory. When he suddenly...
Apur Sansar (1959) – Love, Loss and Renewal | Apu Trilogy Review Apur Sansar (1959) — The World of Apu Ray, Relationships, and the Making of Apu Satyajit Ray’s cinema is deeply invested in relationships — not as dramatic confrontations, but as quiet forces that shape lives over time. Parents and children, husbands and wives, lovers brought together by chance or torn apart by circumstance — Ray observes these bonds with patience, never forcing emotion, never judging choices. Across the Apu Trilogy, Ray traces how relationships mould Apu’s inner life. In Pather Panchali , relationships offer shelter and discovery. In Aparajito , they become sites of guilt and emotional distance. By the time we arrive at Apur Sansar , relationships no longer protect Apu — they transform him. Love arrives suddenly, vanishes cruelly, and leaves behind ...