‘Jatishwar’: The mystery of memories

Memory has a major role to play in writing and rewriting history. History is not confined within pages of fat books, but history is a liquid narrative, which takes the form of that memory which carries it and gives shape to it. This memory might be the memory of single person (personal histories), or of a collective populace. Therefore, history has myriad versions, and it is impossible to pin down a single version of the truth. Therefore, Rohit (Jishu Sengupta) is flabbergasted at the initiation of his dream project – of discovering Antony Firingie, the man and his music. The film takes a documentary mode, and commendably so, as Rohit interviews people on the streets of Chandannagore to find out what the public memory of Antony is. Nobody seems to know Antony, apart from the fact that matinee idol Uttam Kumar had played him in a Bengali blockbuster in the early 70s! That is the most familiar memory of this great musical genius, who seems to have receded into oblivion. Jatishwar, as it has been erroneously publicised by many, is not a remake of Antony Firingie. Yes, the retro-story in sepia tone is no different from the Uttam Kumar-Tanuja classic, but there’s much more to this Srijit Mukherji film. 

The fact that nobody could give any valuable information on Antony speaks volumes on the gradual dilution and eventually complete erasure of a genre of music (here mostly kabigaan, and its various phases), which was immensely rich, and demanded of the artists superlative intelligence, presence of mind, and the potential to compose impromptu! Kushal Hajra (Prosenjit Chatterjee) is perhaps no real Jaatishwar! He might not indeed be a reincarnation of Antony! He is perhaps that lost memory which is personified in a the form of man, a man who smarts under the massive history of that lost era which heavily weighs down on him and robs him of his sanity. The film takes its cue from such cult Indian films such as Madhumati or Sonar Kella (I was even reminded of another Uttam Kumar classis, Sannyasi Raja), and plays on two different levels: on one hand, it recalls and revives a particular musical genius who had a significant contribution to Bengali music, on the other, it firmly situates itself in the tradition of reincarnation or rebirth films, which have always been box-office successes in India. Music and cinema, therefore, blend in the narrative of Jatishwar, revealing a rich cultural tradition, while acknowledging Indian Cinema’s heavy dependence on songs and lyrics. The film could have used a few more well-known Bengali songs to reinforce the nostalgia...apart from some fading tunes (E shudhu gaaner din..., etc.), not much has come into the film, sadly enough!

I would refrain from delving deeper into the story, which is after all, a love story. It is also a film about communal harmony. In fact, the film also unveils that cultural colonialism was not a one-sided process; it was a game of exchange, after a point of time. As the narrative moves back and forth in time to establish so many plot strands, the whole attempt sometimes looks a tad forced. But, what is evident is that a lot of research has gone into the film. Kudos to Srijit Mukherji! But, he could have been a little more careful in streamlining the plot! 

Kabir Suman’s music is a definite plus; and interestingly, remarkable experiments have been done with the camera. It jolts, it jerks, shifts points of view, and what not! Prosenjit Chatterjee as Antony is a stunner (thanks for the dubbing), but Prosenjit the actor shows himself best in Kushal Hajra. But, the mannerism in his voice, which has become much too familiar, sticks out like a sore thumb. Jishu Sengupta is low-key and adorable. Swastika looks older than the character she has played, but she has tried her best. Mamata Shankar, Abir, and Kharaj are the other mentionable names in the whole gamut of Tollygunj starlets populating the film.