Every film-maker has a hangover or what they call , a favourite subject! Bergman had issues with Christianity, Antonioni with communication and spaces, Woody Allen had New York, our own Ritwik Ghatak had partition. For Bengali film director Anjan Dutta (who started off as the 'angry young' face in the films of Mrinal Sen and Buddhadeb Dasgupta in the early 80s) its basically two - Darjeeling and Bangla Rock/band music. Anjan had been quite prominent as a solo modern song-writer and singer since the mid 90s after Kabir Suman (then Suman Chatterjee) brought in some energy to a new type of Bengali modern songs which harped on our existence. Gone are those romantic lyrics - these songs in many cases came out from the streets and directly into our favourite playlists.
Previously Anjan made a smart and sleek film in Madly Bangali which dealt with a young gang of college students and their ambition to become a successful rock band. It was quite an enjoyable film - true to times and honest in its rendition.
The latest film by Anjan Dutt Ranjana ami aar asbona (meaning "Ranjana I won't come again" - this is a song from Anjan's first released album of the mid-90s) however dabbles more with self-indulgence to the extent of narcissism.
Most Bengali film directors of today (and unfortunately I do write this in almost every article of mine on contemporary Bengali films) play the 'nostalgia' card dripping with sugary emotions so much so that even the sepia undertones have become monotones! Anjan used to be quite different - smart and entertaining. He seemed to have been lucky not to carry the 'hang' of being a Bengali - culture vulture prying from old treasures. Unfortunately enough Ranjana... seemed to fall in that genre. There had been explicit and abundant references of Anjan's own songs which are hits (though the character's name is Abani), Kabir Suman plays the role of a senior musician Stanley Bose who like Suman himself was the torch-bearer. Stanley of the film actually sung Suman's "Gaanwala" a lyrical masterpiece. So, references are galore. And in the midst you find Abani Sen - a successful 'legend' of the music industry who raps up with this mofussil girl dreaming to make big in the city. Then what follows is self-pity, indolence, overdose (And I mean OVERDOSE) of smoking and boozing - the typical bengali sentiment of an artist defeated by fate and so lonely - ahha, you have to feel for him. Its his creativity which makes him unwind every girl on his way and throw away like sanitary napkins, its his "good inner soul" which makes him worry for the girl when she doesn’t return for long (he actually leaves her in street because he wants her to be "lost in the city" ) - what crap bullsh#t! Give me a break!!
There was one interesting collage however in that "know yourself only when you are lost" sequence where the city of Kolkata came up close - in the Park street, the banks of the Ganges, the Kumartully where the Durga idols were being made and so on. But the parallel verbose from Abani about what is music and what is art seemed jarring. When will reel characters be less prophetic?
The character of Stanley Bose is intriguing - he is the only ray of hope - not because Abani Sen confessed to him that none of Sen's songs are like Bose's but more because Bose had an aim, a focus and the strength of will and character to pursue his goals. He is unattached, economical in his associations and radical in his vision.
Like any profession majority of the Bengali directors should also understand that there is need for a retirement age - else you repeat and you repeat and whatever you preach in your film, in actual, you don't step aside to give way to a newcomer. It is a distant dream hence, if they can be like Bose in the dissociation of their pet objects. Simply because art should not be wasted as toilet tissues.
super-like
ReplyDelete