What Sachit Thinks

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...

Teen Kanya: The Postmaster – A Poignant Reflection on Love and Loss | Film Review Teen Kanya: The Postmaster – Satyajit Ray’s Short Film Review Plot Summary 40 minutes of magic. That's what Satyajit Ray weaves in the first of the Teen Kanya anthology — The Postmaster . Your heart goes out to Ratan, the young orphan child who tirelessly serves her master, the postmaster. For Nandlal, this is a wretched posting, one that almost takes his life. But for Ratan, it is life-changing. She likes Nandlal. She happily does the chores and tends to him when he is unwell. But more than anything, he gives her ambition and hope. Nandlal teaches Ratan how to read and write, and encourages her to wear clean clothes — small gestures that transform her world. Character Analysis Nandlal, true to his character of being a weak person, cannot survive in Ulapore. He decides to quit his job and go back...

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 ...

Aparajito (1956) – The Emotional Cost of Growing Up | Apu Trilogy Review Aparajito (1956) — The Unvanquished Aparajito , the second chapter of Satyajit Ray’s Apu Trilogy , is not merely a continuation of Pather Panchali . It is a deeper, more unsettling film — one that examines the emotional cost of growth and the quiet violence of separation. A Story of Growth, Loss, and the Price of Freedom After the death of Harihar, young Apu (Pinaki Sengupta as the boy and Smaran Ghosal as the teenager) and his mother Sarbajaya ( Karuna Banerjee ) struggle to rebuild their lives. As Apu’s intellect opens doors to education and opportunity, Sarbajaya’s world contracts. Ray charts this divergence with devastating restraint — ambition expands one life while hollowing out another. The Mother–Son Relationship at the Film’s Core Sarbajaya is one of Ray’s most c...

Pather Panchali (1955) Review | Satyajit Ray’s Poetic Debut Pather Panchali (1955): Satyajit Ray’s Poetic Debut Why on earth had I not watched any Satyajit Ray film till now? Puzzles me. But I'm setting out to watch every film made by the great man. Pather Panchali is my kind of cinema. Simple, yet complex. Subtle, yet bold. Rambling, yet assertive. The story is quite loose and banal, but it is the telling of the story that makes an impact. What drew me to the film is the play of characters, and the attention to detail. Your heart goes out to each of the pivotal characters — Sarbajaya , the forced matriarch; Durga , the dreamy daughter; Apu , the boy turning into a man; and Indir , the penniless beggar. Each of them tells their own story, not through words, but through their eyes and body language. Usually, in a film, you can make out the star of the show, but you can't r...