Shobdo: For Art’s Sake

It’s been ages since a meaningful Bengali film was made, where art and philosophy blended seamlessly. Shobdo (Sound) is indisputably one of the greatest Bengali films made in recent times. Such a claim might sound too lofty, but certainly not without foundation. Why is Shobdo unique?

·          1. The trend of films on the film industry has taken over Tollygunj for quite sometimes now. While most filmmakers have stuck to the major players (directors, actors or musicians), none has thought it necessary to bring to the fore the technicians. The foley-artistes’ indispensability has never been recognized. And am certain, even cine-lovers have barely ever spared a thought on them. Kaushik Ganguly’s Shobdo makes out of the ignored foley-artiste a hero, and hammers home the fact that without him films would have been but unreal. For, without sounds, verisimilitude cannot be achieved. A fact, which I am sure, has eluded many till date.

·         2. It’s been really long since any Bengali film has delved deep into the psyche of an artiste, and has represented creative madness with such compassion. Tarak’s obsession with his art segregates him from reality much to the disconcertment of his wife and psychiatrist, but Tarak is so overpoweringly fascinated with his art that he fails to separate his art and reality. For him, his art (the world of sounds) becomes reality. Without being preachy, the film floats a profound philosophical discourse on artistry, creative impulse, and how art might enslave life. It might be painful for those to whom the artiste is personally consequential; but, such coalescence of art and life is necessary for creation to approximate perfection.

·         3. Shobdo, therefore, becomes a very refined commentary on filmmaking and its penchant to approximate the reality it represents. The re-creation of sound effects demands of the foley-artiste a very alert ear for the various sounds, no matter how subsonic they are ---- the fine difference in the little ‘thud’ sound made by an empty cup and a cup filled to the brim; the difference of the sound of footsteps on a wooden staircase and the sound made by boots on a gravelled path, etc. Shobdo makes you feel that if a good screenplay is the backbone of a good film, the foley-artiste’s sound effects are like blood that runs through the arteries and veins of that screenplay. The behind-the-scene reality of a ‘show’ is unravelled by Shobdo remarkably.

·         4. The film, while celebrating creative madness, romantically evokes the superiority of the sounds of nature to human speech. The tearful psychiatrist wonders after a night of hard-partying the general inconsequentiality of human speech, which is more often than not, nonsensical and insensitive, and mostly meaningless. Sound waves are not sounds, but mere signifiers which the human brain interprets meaningfully, as it is trained to. While language often dominates in this world of sounds, the ‘mere’ sounds too are no less significant, no less meaningful than language. Kaushik Ganguly has commendably touched such depths without being preachy anywhere.

·        5.  The film also negotiates with ideas of ‘normality’ and that which is dubbed ‘abnormal’ by the mainstream. Tarak’s strangeness (his inability to interpret human speech and his obsession with other kinds of sounds) is eventually reclaimed as another way of looking at things, a perspective (largely auditory, if I may call it so) which is not available to the majority. Yet, Tarak has to come back to the mainstream of life; so, he is finally sent to a rehab. The ear-splitting sound of the ambulance struggling over a sandy beach, acquires a different meaning altogether in the closing scene. Is it a signifier of Tarak’s protest as he stares on silently with a blank look in his eyes? By the time the end-titles roll, the audience becomes much too aware of all the other sounds they hear, apart from the dialogue.

    

      Ritwick Chakraborty’s marvellous performance would definitely fetch him numerous awards and accolades in the coming year, although it’s surprising that he has missed the national award. Raima and Srijit are good, if not brilliant. Churni would have scored really high had she not given the same performance in numerous other films before. Victor Banerjee is quite redundant to the plot.

      Kaushik Ganguly is certainly emerging as one of the greatest filmmakers of contemporary Tollywood. The uniqueness of his subjects is commendable and is a great relief from the tear-jerking sentimental middle class dramas or nerve-racking action-packages that have almost destroyed the Bengali film industry. Shobdo is a film from which other promising filmmakers might draw inspiration and abandon tested ground, and tread on un-trodden path. By taking the ‘road not usually taken’ Kaushik Ganguly deserves two-thumbs-up! 

Image courtesy:

dearcinema.com

'Laptop': Grim, stifling, confining, and all that

I wont waste much space in reviewing Kaushik Ganguly’s latest, for I have nothing much to say, apart from cribbing about the film’s claustrophobic grimness and raving about Ganguly’s spectacular blind-act. The director gives himself the maximum footage, and quite effortlessly steals the show as a visually challenged writer (Partha) who dictates his novels to Subha (Ananya Chatterjee) all through the day. Subha and her noisy typewriter become his constant companion in the dimly lit apartment smarting under almost palpable depression. Subha’s reticence and sombreness adds to the darkness of the atmosphere; yet, it is in her very presence that Partha feels most animated. Struck by his remarkable insight into feminine desires, Subha once asks him: “Dekhen ki kore?” (How do you see?).


Apart from this part of the story, which incidentally constitutes a major chunk of the plot, Laptop has nothing much to offer. In fact, the way in which the laptop changes hands is rather un-dramatic and a tad incredible. It ruins a family while partially reunites another. It is because of the laptop that Jiyon (Gaurab Chakraborty) has to carry the burden of a failed affair and a false allegation of theft all his life. Indra (Rahul Bose) finds out that his son is being raised by a tea-planter’s family in Darjeeling through some data stored in the laptop. The way in which the film connects the ensemble cast at the very beginning is quite remarkable and raises expectations; but it sadly fails to live up to the expectations as the story unfolds. In fact, there is not a single moment that provides comic relief, and the existential angst becomes a bit too taxing, even when the story moves out of stifling interiors to the hills of Darjeeling. The last part of the film sentimentalizing on impotency and a father having to stay away from his son is unbearably long and monotonous. The film required heavy editing, in general.

The ensemble cast of TV actors is good; but Rahul Bose is atrocious and Churni’s mannerisms grate on your nerves. She is becoming extremely repetitive by the day. Apart from Kaushik, it’s Ananya who stands out. Anyway, at 180 minutes the agony the characters suffer grows into you, leaving you rather distraught. In a word, Laptop is a major disappointment of sorts. The evening show at Fame (Hiland Park) had but a thin crowd, and none seemed sufficiently excited after the curtains came down.

Image: banglasangeet.in