As a student of cinema, perhaps my gravest sin is that I haven't yet seen Satyajit Ray's landmark film Pather Panchali. There, I've said it -- it's out in the open now -- I have not watched Pather Panchali. But that is not to say that I have not been affected by its aura. It is impossible to study film and not read something about Pather Panchali, or not have a famous filmmaker reference it as one of the films that have influenced her/ his works. Even though it is a serious work of non-mainstream cinema, there is a certain glamour associated with this film. It occupies a rarefied place in the world of cinema -- a cinematic "seventh wonder", if you please, unique, untouchable and irreplaceable.
It was this "glamour" that prompted me to watch Apur Panchali, a film by Kaushik Ganguly, at the Pune International Film Festival this year. The film follows two narratives, though it is primarily the story of Subir Bannerjee, the forgotten, once-famous child actor, who featured in Pather Panchali as Apu. This narrative track follows the story of Subir, now an aged, lonely man who once again has to face the spotlight as he is being honoured at a film festival in Germany for his contribution to Ray's film. Another narrative focuses in Subir as a younger man (played by Parambrata Chattopadhyay of Kahaani fame) and the trajectory of emotions he has to go through as he loses his wife and child at an early age. These two stories are effectively interspersed with original footage from Pather Panchali, the scenes of this film often mirroring the events in young Subir's life.
Subir, as an older man, is rather reticent. He has tried to shake off the ghost of Apu all through his life, but the "relationship" he shares with Apu is almost karmic, in which it appears that the character and the actor are meant to be one. This feeling is heightened by the fact that Subir's own life, although cloaked in the mundane, is quite cinematic. The events of his life -- right from his father's death, to his happy marriage, to the eventual death of his wife and child -- all seem to be borrowed from the plot of a melodramatic Hindi film. It is uncanny, as Subir himself admits, that Apu, whom he has tried his best to forget, is fatally linked to his life. It is because of Apu that Subir gets the opportunity to fly business class to Germany on the first plane journey of his life.
My favourite character in the film was that of the young student, Arko, who brings Subir the news of his award and chases him around till he is convinced to go to Germany. Arko is motivated by the fact that he is becoming a part of cinematic history in his endeavour and all his efforts to pursuade Subir stem more from a love of cinema than anything else. There is an interesting scene in which Subir takes Arko to the house where Pather Panchali was shot. Arko takes several snapshots of this "historical" site and later reveals to Subir that he has also stolen a brick from the house.
Ganguly's film is a look at the reverse side of instant stardom -- instant oblivion. The fame leaves Subir as soon as he is out of the spotlight, and he too learns to live without it. But Apu does not leave. He stays with Subir, almost like a puppeteer, charting the course of Subir's simple but extraordinary life.
It was this "glamour" that prompted me to watch Apur Panchali, a film by Kaushik Ganguly, at the Pune International Film Festival this year. The film follows two narratives, though it is primarily the story of Subir Bannerjee, the forgotten, once-famous child actor, who featured in Pather Panchali as Apu. This narrative track follows the story of Subir, now an aged, lonely man who once again has to face the spotlight as he is being honoured at a film festival in Germany for his contribution to Ray's film. Another narrative focuses in Subir as a younger man (played by Parambrata Chattopadhyay of Kahaani fame) and the trajectory of emotions he has to go through as he loses his wife and child at an early age. These two stories are effectively interspersed with original footage from Pather Panchali, the scenes of this film often mirroring the events in young Subir's life.
Subir, as an older man, is rather reticent. He has tried to shake off the ghost of Apu all through his life, but the "relationship" he shares with Apu is almost karmic, in which it appears that the character and the actor are meant to be one. This feeling is heightened by the fact that Subir's own life, although cloaked in the mundane, is quite cinematic. The events of his life -- right from his father's death, to his happy marriage, to the eventual death of his wife and child -- all seem to be borrowed from the plot of a melodramatic Hindi film. It is uncanny, as Subir himself admits, that Apu, whom he has tried his best to forget, is fatally linked to his life. It is because of Apu that Subir gets the opportunity to fly business class to Germany on the first plane journey of his life.
My favourite character in the film was that of the young student, Arko, who brings Subir the news of his award and chases him around till he is convinced to go to Germany. Arko is motivated by the fact that he is becoming a part of cinematic history in his endeavour and all his efforts to pursuade Subir stem more from a love of cinema than anything else. There is an interesting scene in which Subir takes Arko to the house where Pather Panchali was shot. Arko takes several snapshots of this "historical" site and later reveals to Subir that he has also stolen a brick from the house.
Ganguly's film is a look at the reverse side of instant stardom -- instant oblivion. The fame leaves Subir as soon as he is out of the spotlight, and he too learns to live without it. But Apu does not leave. He stays with Subir, almost like a puppeteer, charting the course of Subir's simple but extraordinary life.
