Sadgati (1981) - Why the caste system is an incurable curse Sadgati (1981) - Why the caste system is an incurable curse Sadgati angered me. And while watching it, I kept thinking: maybe Satyajit Ray made this film in anger too. My anger is directed squarely at the shallow, obnoxious, uncivilised caste system of India. Seeing something rotten persist for centuries — and still being defended, normalised, even glorified. At the centre of Sadgati is a pot-bellied, self-aggrandising Brahmin who takes full toll of a lower-caste Dalit tanner. He speaks of virtue. Of customs. Of lineage. He even espouses the moral necessity of remarriage — not out of companionship or love, but to ensure that bloodlines continue uninterrupted. And yet, this same man cannot summon the bare minimum empathy for a fellow human being. He can make him toil for free till he drops dead — but cannot offer him water. Or food. Or rest. Or dign...
Hirak Rajar Deshe (1980): When a Film Tries Too Hard Hirak Rajar Deshe (1980): When a Film Tries Too Hard I recently watched Hirak Rajar Deshe (1980). I admired it. I respected it. But I wasn’t blown away. And that bothered me—because Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne still enchants me every single time. So I kept asking myself: Why? Not in an academic way. Just as a viewer who knows when a film holds him gently, and when it grips a little too tightly. One lands. The other tries. Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne floats through its story. It never seems in a hurry to arrive anywhere. Magic appears, songs erupt, kingdoms change hands—and yet nothing feels forced. The film doesn’t lean into meaning. It trusts that meaning will emerge. Hirak Rajar Deshe tries hard. It leans into satire, into warning, into urgency. You can feel the forward motion of intention. The film wants you to see what it is saying. It w...
Soulless detective film: Joi Baba Felunath (1979) review Soulless detective film: Joi Baba Felunath (1979) I rubbed my hands in anticipation as I sat down to watch Joi Baba Felunath (1979). That reaction itself was unfair, in hindsight. Sonar Kella had set the bar high. The sense of adventure, the danger, the childlike wonder mixed with real menace - Ray had given us a Feluda film that felt alive. So when Joi Baba Felunath ended, my feeling wasn’t anger or dismissal. It was disappointment. Don’t mistake me, this is a good detective film . Competently made. Clean. Watchable. But coming after Sonar Kella , it feels like a step down. And the reason, I think, is simple: the film has no soul . It works, but it doesn’t breathe. Everything feels a little too mechanical. Ray takes us back to Benaras - an evocative choice. This is, after all, the city he had earlier etched so memorably in Pather Panchali . ...
Shatranj ke Khilari (1977) - Chess, Friendship And Betrayal Shatranj ke Khilari (1977) - Chess, Friendship And Betrayal Shatranj ke Khilari is one of those films that doesn’t announce its cleverness. It simply unfolds, calmly and patiently, trusting the viewer to notice what is going on. At its heart, the film runs on two parallel tracks—two stories that seem separate at first, but slowly begin to echo each other. Both stories are about friendship. And both are about betrayal. Story A: The Big Game The first story is political. The British East India Company and the Nawab of Oudh. The British arrive as friends. They are polite, reasonable, and reassuring. Promises are made. Agreements are signed. Everything looks civilised. The Nawab, cultured and refined, believes that words still mean something. That friendship, once offered, will be honoured. It isn’t. This is not a violent ...
The Secret Sauce of Its Success: Why Sonar Kella Still Works The Secret Sauce of Its Success: Why Sonar Kella Still Works I recently watched Sonar Kella (1974) again. I liked it—as most people do—but more than that, I found myself wondering: why is this film so popular even today? The answer, I feel, lies in a rare combination: smart genre fusion, classical writing techniques, and a director finally at ease with colour and popular storytelling . Fantasy opens the door, suspense does the job Sonar Kella begins with fantasy. A child claims memories of a previous life. A golden fortress exists somewhere in Rajasthan. Reincarnation—an idea culturally familiar to Indian audiences—hangs over the story like a promise. But Ray is careful. He never turns this into a mystical or spiritual film. The fantasy initiates the narrative; it does not power it. Once the journey begins, the film quietly shifts into a suspense thriller and detective...
A Famine of Strong Characters | Ashani Sanket (1973) A Famine of Strong Characters Ashani Sanket (1973) is Satyajit Ray’s second colour film after Kanchenjunga (1962) . And once again, I couldn’t help feeling that colour restricts Ray. Black and white brings out the best in him — the sharpness, the moral tension, the quiet drama that breathes between faces and silences. Whenever Ray turns to social themes — Devi , Mahanagar , Jana Aranya — colour seems to work against him. The frames become heavier, the ideas louder, and the characters, oddly thinner. This time, Ray chooses the Bengal Famine of 1943. Rice disappears, prices shoot up, and people die in hordes under British watch. It is a catastrophe that needs no embellishment. And yet, in Ashani Sanket , the subject becomes king. The people living inside it never quite come alive. Gangacharan and Angana: names without force At the ...
Jana Aranya (1975): Satyajit Ray and the Making of a Corrupt India Jana Aranya (1975): Satyajit Ray and the Making of a Corrupt India By the time Satyajit Ray made Jana Aranya , he seemed done with anger. This is the final film in his Calcutta Trilogy—after Pratidwandi and Seemabaddha —and it feels like the point where outrage gives way to resignation. If Pratidwandi was about frustration and Seemabaddha about compromise, Jana Aranya (The Middleman) is about acceptance. Ray appears to have seen what was coming. Not just corruption as a problem, but corruption as a way of life. Something that would slowly seep into everything, until it no longer feels shocking. Just the reality. The story of Somnath is how Ray shows us this shift. Somnath ( Pradip Mukherji ) starts out where many Ray characters do—educated, idealistic, broke. He wants to be honest, but honesty keeps him poor....
Pratidwandi (1970): A Missable Film, Unfortunately I didn’t like Pratidwandi . Not because it’s political or difficult, but because it never really moves . For a film called The Adversary , I kept asking myself: adversary to what? There’s frustration everywhere, anger in the air, but no clear conflict pushing the story forward. Scenes pile up, moods pile up, but Siddhartha doesn’t arrive anywhere emotionally or morally. He begins restless and ends restless. This is where the film departs sharply from the Satyajit Ray I admire. Even when Ray is quiet, his stories usually move with intent. In Apur Sansar , every scene edges Apu closer to loss and responsibility. In The Postmaster from Teen Kanya , the emotional shift is minimal on the surface but absolutely decisive underneath. Devi steadily tightens its grip until belief itself becomes the conflict. Even a fantasy like Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne is propelled by clear wants, obstacles, and consequences. ...
How to Write a Character | Seemabaddha and Satyajit Ray Using the Syd Field lens on Ray I’ve always wondered how characters are built. Not acted. Not directed. Written . What makes a character feel solid, like they existed before the film began and will continue after it ends? Recently, while reading Syd Field on screenwriting, I found myself wanting to test his ideas on a filmmaker I trust implicitly: Satyajit Ray. Could I take a Ray character and view him through this lens? Seemabaddha (Company Limited), 1971 felt like the perfect test case. Shyamalendu Chatterjee isn’t flamboyant, tragic, or outwardly dramatic. Yet he stays with you. Which usually means the writing is doing something quietly powerful. Field talks about character in fairly simple terms. I’m expanding them a bit here: past, present, future, and then four basic pillars of character construction, to see how Ray builds Shyamal so...
Aranyer Din Ratri (1970) Review | Satyajit Ray’s Jungle Holiday Film Aranyer Din Ratri (1970): A Holiday, a Jungle, and Seven People One of the great pleasures of watching Satyajit Ray is noticing how easily he shifts forms. From domestic drama to political unease, from fantasy to realism, Ray keeps changing lanes. Aranyer Din Ratri is one such shift. On the surface, it is a travel film. Four friends from the city take a holiday in a forest, in a remote part of India. A break from routine. A few days away. But Ray is never interested in tourism. The jungle here is not exotic. It is quiet. It watches. And slowly, it allows people to reveal themselves. Four Friends, Not Three Cinema usually gives us three friends. A neat balance. Ray gives us four. That extra person unsettles the group. Ashim, Sanjoy, Hari, and Shekhar belong to the same urban world, but they carry very different attitudes into the forest. The jungle does not change them immediately...
Two (1964): A Duel of Toys, A Film of Questions | Sachit Murthy Two (1964): A Duel of Toys, A Film of Questions On the surface, Two looks almost disarmingly simple. Two boys. Two homes. Two sets of toys. One child lives in abundance — a large house, manicured lawns, mechanical marvels that move, fly, explode, obey commands. The other lives in visible poverty, in a slum that presses uncomfortably close to this island of privilege. What follows is a duel: toy versus toy, escalation after escalation, until one final act punctures the illusion of victory. It is tempting — and perfectly valid — to read Two as a clean allegory. Rich versus poor. Simplicity versus abundance. Humility versus arrogance. The Cold War reading is almost unavoidable. But I find Two far more unsettling when we stop looking at what it means and start notic...
Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne (1969): A Children’s Fantasy That Knows Adults Are Watching | Sachit Murthy Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne (1969): A Children’s Fantasy That Knows Adults Are Watching After Parash Pathar (1958) , Satyajit Ray returns to fantasy with Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne —his second film in the genre, and one that announces its warmth far more openly. Where the earlier film wielded fantasy as sharp satire, this one embraces music, humour, and moral clarity, without ever losing Ray’s intelligence. The story is clearly meant for children, but Ray never assumes that children require simplification. Like all enduring children’s tales, the film carries meanings that unfold fully only for adult viewers. Beneath the magic and songs lies a meditation on loneliness, exclusion, and the quiet dignity of hope. Ray populates this fairy tale with actors who bring texture rather than cartoonishness. Rabi Ghosh — so unforgettable in Abhijan and Mahapurush —b...
Seventeen Satyajit Ray Films So Far: A Thematic Midway Reflection Seventeen Films into Satyajit Ray: A Thematic Midway Reflection Watching Satyajit Ray is not about moving forward. It is about circling inward. After writing about seventeen of his films , it becomes clear that Ray does not offer neat conclusions. He offers moral weather — climates that shape people over time. Watching Ray's films is a study of human behaviour. Here is a midpoint reflection. I. Women at the Centre: Beauty, Intelligence, and Becoming Mahanagar (1963) Arati’s journey from domestic anonymity to professional selfhood is among Ray’s most quietly radical statements. Madhabi Mukherjee’s beauty here is never ornamental — it evolves with her consciousness. As her confidence grows, so does her presence, making Mahanagar a landmark in feminist cinema without slogans. Charulata (1964) Charu’s loneliness is intellectual before it is emotional. Ray films her...
Chiriyakhana (1967) Review – Satyajit Ray’s Zoo Without Coherence Chiriyakhana (1967): A Zoo Without Coherence Satyajit Ray’s Chiriyakhana (1967) represents one of the most ambitious tonal shifts in his filmography. Known for grounded dramas and razor-sharp character studies, here Ray pleads a very different case — a full-course, genre-stylized whodunit. The intent is clear, but the execution doesn’t quite land. The central problem is structural. Chiriyakhana attempts to do too much, jamming together subplot upon subplot without the usual clarity Ray brings to his narratives. The plot becomes too complex to be coherent, and several sequences slip into the realm of the unfathomable. One stark example is the ham-handed visit to the colony in a Japanese disguise — a choice that distracts rather than deepens intrigue. Plot points, especially on the...