Shakha Proshakha (1990) – Probably Ray’s Worst?
As I inch closer to the end of Satyajit Ray’s filmography, there’s a strange brooding feeling that sets in. Only three more films (out of thirty five). That’s all. After that, no first-time Ray experience ever again.
Having gone through the psychological introspection of Nayak (1966), the moral collapse of Jana Aranya (1975), and the enduring magic of Sonar Kella (1974), I approached this late Ray film with both affection and expectation.
Instead, I was left in hapless despair.
And I say this with a heavy heart. This is probably Ray’s weakest film.
Even the premise is bleak on paper. A dying, honest, successful patriarch. Four sons. Each positioned somewhere on the dishonesty scale. Two are “honest”, but one is mentally unstable, and the other is quietly depressed. The rest have comfortably adjusted to corruption.
And yet, even with that darkness built in, the execution was one big yawn.
The writing felt lazy — something I never thought I’d say about Ray. The early conversation between the father and the deranged son is blatant exposition. It almost felt like a stage play: static and over-explained.
Ray, who once trusted silence more than dialogue: something so powerful in Nayak, suddenly seemed to be spelling everything out.
The themes: corruption vs honesty, fractured familial bonds, echo ideas Ray explored far more sharply in Jana Aranya. But here, they didn’t feel freshly examined. They felt stated. Declared. Repeated.
For the very first time in his cinema, Ray even explicitly depicts the ills of smoking, almost as a moral symptom of decay. It stood out because Ray was never a filmmaker who sermonised. Yet here, everything felt underlined.
What disturbed me more was the absence of character arcs. Nobody really changes. Nobody learns. The dishonest remain dishonest. The honest remain trapped. The patriarch is left disillusioned. The “branches” stay crooked.
And then there is Soumitra Chatterjee.
After years of serving Ray — from Apu to so many unforgettable roles — what was he doing here? What was his purpose in this narrative?
Maybe this is late Ray. A man battling illness. A man who had seen enough of society’s decay.
But as a viewer, I felt unserved and unmoved. And that is rare with Ray.
I'm disappointed.
But, but...I still have a few Ray films left. And I will watch them now with even more caution, because even a master can falter. And perhaps that, too, is human.
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