“I have always been in doubt about my work. I
always thought that entertainment business was not worthwhile but time and
again for more than 50 years I have been accepted, loved and made to feel as
one of my own by my countrymen. I love them [viewers] and that is the reason
why I am doing cinema. I salute them as they have supplied me with energy and
dedication of what I think is a good art.” This is what Soumitra Chatterjee had
to say at the award function where he was conferred the Dadasahab Phalke award
in 2012 – the highest award in India
for contributions in cinema. The announcement of the award was indeed a
surprise to many including the essayist considering the fact that Soumitra’s
relation with the National film awards is strangely lukewarm. He was never
conferred the award for the Best Actor in his heydays and then finally received
it for a rather inconsequential role in a seemingly innocuous film Padakshep
(2006, Dir: Suman Ghosh). His closeness
to the frontline leaders of the CPI(M) (ex-Chief Minister Mr. Buddhadeb
Bhattacharyya being a friend) and his marked Marxist lineage probably added to
this delineation – he refused Padma Shri twice before accepting Padma Bhushan
in 2004. He however was conferred with the Officier des Arts et Metiers, one of
the highest award for arts given by the French government and the Lifetime
Award from the organizers of the Naples Film Festival, Italy in 1999. So why
did he accept Dadashaheb Phalke? “I have not much belief in the awards and the
way they are been given. Nor do I have much faith in the juries many times. I
don’t need an award at this stage of life as well. However I did accept this
since I found this one award which is till date slightly free from the politics
and nepotism associated with the other awards. If you see the other recipients
you will find that apart from one or probably two, everyone else is very
deserving”- this is what he told me in a personal conversation. Soumitra
Chatterjee on one hand represents this aspect of the Bengali Renaissance which
thrived on being different and exploiting a new facet of the cultural heritage
and hegemony.
As the light gets low, the breezing wind reminds us
of an impending storm. Charu and Manda were playing cards in the bedroom. As
the storm intensifies they are forced to leave the afternoon siesta. It is at
this point in time that Amal enters like a comet. He chants ‘Hare Murare’ from
the memorable Bangla novel “Anandamath” by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee. Soumitra
Chatterjee was Amal to me for quite a long time. It wasn’t the first Chatterjee
film that I watched, nor, was it his first film. But whenever I get to think of
him the couple of images that strike me include the above from Satyajit Ray’s
classic “Charulata” (1964). The other being Apu in Ray’s third film of the epic
trilogy “Apur Sansar” (1959). Chatterjee had been Ray’s ‘one-man stock company’
(as Pauline Kael coined him) – a collaboration in 14 films which has a
staggering range from Apu to Gangacharan in “Ashani Sanket” (1973), Felu in the
detective films (1974 and 1978), Sandip in “Ghare Baire” (1984) and the later
films (1989, 1990). Apart from Ray, Soumitra had been an instant choice for
most of eminent Bengali directors including Mrinal Sen , Tapan Sinha of the classical
phase and Goutam Ghosh, Rituporno Ghosh or Aparna Sen of recent years — notable
exceptions being Ritwik Ghatak and Buddhadeb Dasgupta.
As I look at Soumitra’s filmic career that spans
over five decades, the two most important aspects that come to mind are – his
professional rivalry with the Bengali matinee idol Uttam Kumar and the shift in
his choice of films across the different decades. When Soumitra started his
career in the late fifties / early sixties, Uttam Kumar had already been a star
and probably the biggest of them all. His eloquent ‘natural’ style had been a
perfect foil to his romantic overtones, pairing with the gorgeous Suchitra Sen.
Satyajit Ray had started reeling out masterpieces and for the first time, the
audience had a glimpse of the natural in Indian films. Uttam Kumar was quick to
adapt even if his chance to act in a Ray film came much later in “Nayak”
(1966). As he kept sweeping the audience off their feet, Soumitra’s image was
that of a shy college pass-out in Apu. And few films after, by the mid sixties,
Soumitra became the thinking man’s hero – the image of an ‘intellectual’. He
had the intellectual ‘bangali babu’ eating out of his palms, added to the fact
was his marked leftist lineage, his poet identity and his association with
Sisir Bhaduri, the legendary theatre thespian. The coffee-house go-er Bengali
intelligentsia modeled themselves on him as a parallel to the more popular
Uttam Kumar. Both of them did a number of films together but most famous are
“Jhinder Bandi” (1961), “Stree” (1972), “Aparichito” (1969) and “Devdas”(1979).
Barring Tapan Sinha’s “Jhinder Bandi” where he portrays the deadly yet
sophisticated villain Mayurbahan as opposed to the king (dual role played by
Uttam) in all these other films starring these legends, Soumitra played the
second fiddle. Uttam played the confident male, going out and winning the world
for him, while Soumitra epitomized as the defeated other. This is the singular
image that Soumitra developed with ease, take Amal (“Charulata”) or Amitava of
“Kapurush” (1965) – the glorification of a defeated individual has been a major
fodder to his image being popular. In “Aparichito” (based on Dostyovesky’s “The
Idiot”), Soumitra played the submissive ‘idiot’ who got deranged in the end,
unable to cope with the pressures of the modern life. In “Stree”, he goes to
the city from the village in search of fortune and when he returns, finds his
lady-love forcibly married to a zaminder (played by Uttam Kumar). Dejected he
takes work in the same zamindar’s house, unknowingly as the complex saga of
love and betrayal unfolds. In Saratchandra’s epic novel “Devdas”, Soumitra
plays Devdas, the jilted lover who succumbs to alcohol who gets support from
his friend in Chunilal (Uttam). Almost all these films rise above the mundane
pot-boilers, more so by the power of acting of this duo. And their intelligence
in doing justice to the roles that suit them best ensured that the films are
seldom boring. Probably the best way to sum up their difference is to quote
Satyajit Ray – ‘…the intelligent section of the crowd, particularly the girls,
the Presidency College girls, would prefer Soumitra to
Uttam. But they were in a minority, I’m afraid’.
Soumitra Chatterjee developed his cinematic persona
in style and remained a character actor who also became a star. This was
ensured due to the associations he had in his early film career. If we look
into his first decade – the sixties we will find he had acted in more than
forty films which includes seven Satyajit Ray films, two Tapan Sinha , three
Asit Sen and three Mrinal Sen films. Most of these films (not only those of
Ray) had been different – in form as well as in content. It’s a rare luxury for
a new actor to work with so many talented directors of the time. To his credit,
Chatterjee had grabbed these opportunities with both hands and delivered. The
seventies saw a change – the political instability throughout the globe rubbed
on the film industry as well. Whereas in Bombay,
the mantle shifted from Rajesh Khanna to Amitabh Bachchan, in Bengal,
Uttam Kumar still held sway. However, as he moved more and more to character
acting keeping his star image intact, Soumitra moved just the opposite – he got
himself to do more and more ‘commercial’ hero roles. This resulted in having only
four Satyajit films and no other acclaimed director to work with. His
appearance also changed as he grew old, from the Biblical reference of the ‘children
of light’ to that with an urban sophistication. In the next three decades
Soumitra moved slowly to characterizations in his acting that commensurate his
aging process. Thankfully, we could witness the thief Aghor in “Sansar
Seemante”, or the teacher who witnessed a political murder in “Atanka”, the
dictionary-writer who struggled like a sage in “Ekti Jiban”, the paralytic
doctor who moves in a wheel-chair and fights for his differently-enabled
patients in “Wheel Chair” or the icon of indomitable spirit and inspiration –
the swimming trainer Kshitish Singha in “Kony”.
Apart from the silver screen, Soumitra spent more
time on the stage since the early eighties. His initial theatre acting legacy
with Sisir Bhaduri prompted him to return to his cradle as he produced theatres
in packed houses – “Naam Jibon”, “Rajkumar”, “Phera”, “Nilkantha”, “Ghatak
Biday” , “Atmakatha” and “Homapakhi” to name a few. Unlike in film where he
remained only an actor, in theatre Soumitra became the writer (most of his
plays are adaptations of foreign plays, though the adaptations are truly Indian
and Bengali in spirit) and also the director apart from being the lead actor.
True, probably his star image helped his theatre to start with but it is his
range of topics and his strength of characterization that kept the audience
interested for more than three decades now. Atleast with “Neelkantha”, “Tiktiki”
and “Raja Lear”, Soumitra reached insurmountable heights and these will
be included in any serious discussion on Soumitra as an actor – both in films
and on stage. With “Raja Lear” he virtually changed the economics of the
reeling Bengali theatre. Whereas the average Bangla theatre ticket costs 100
INR (this is really unfortunate as compared to Delhi or Mumbai where the minimum price is
set around 500 INR in most cases), “Raja Lear” upped the price to 250 INR and
yet every show of it turns houseful within hours of commencement of ticket
sale.
As a complete actor of cinema and stage, there is
no parallel of Soumitra in Bengal and probably
a very few in the national scene. In the Bengal
film industry, there were excellent film actors like Uttam Kumar (whose heroism
is unparalleled without any iota of doubt), Chhabi Biswas and Bikas Roy. But
none of them had his range – from the youth to the middle-aged citizen to the
old Samaritan, Soumitra played all with equal élan. He is probably the only Indian
actor who matured so gracefully playing all the roles that fit his physical
appearance at that point in time. If we compare the stage actors – Sombhu
Mitra, Ajitesh Bandyopadhyay and Utpal Dutt or even the legendary Sisir Kumar
Bhaduri (Soumitra’s guru in
theatre), we have to admit none of them had the filmic presence of Soumitra. He
is the only successful bridge between theatre and films; every other notable
Bengali actor has either one in their oeuvre but not both. In the national
scene, only a Naseeruddin Shah can be a parallel to Soumitra for his range of
characterizations and deep sensitive understanding of the premise of acting.
Not even Balraj Sahni whom Soumitra admired most. Naseer is probably an actor
who played roles of different shades more than Soumitra, who mostly played the
Bengali middle-class bhadrolok
through the different ages of his life. Naseer on the other played characters
with different ethnicity, race and socio-economic profiles with vivacity.
Soumitra being a regional actor probably justifies for not being able to match
up on these grounds. However being a highly successful romantic hero and his
theatre laurels will help him to be one of the two finest actors of India for all
times along with Naseer.
At 78 and fighting cancer, Soumitra has seen it all
– from being a cinema actor to a playwright, a theatre actor, a poet, a
co-editor of the progressive literary magazine ‘Ekkhyan’ and a social activist.
His longtime wish of playing King Lear was fulfilled. His one of the latest
plays “Tritiyo Onko Otoeb” experiments with the form of theatre where all three
actors play the role of “Soumitra Chatterjee” himself. Does that seem
narcissistic? It may well be as he laments for the lack of scope that he gets
in contemporary Bengali films. Probably, like Norma Desmond (unforgettable
Gloria Swanson) of “Sunset Boulevard”(1950), Soumitra sits back and rues – “I
am big. It’s the pictures that got small”.
<<This article was published in Deep Focus Vol 2, Mar-May 2013>>
No comments:
Post a Comment