SAANKO (trans: Footbridge) of Belgharia Rooptapas: A tribute to Ritwik Kumar Ghatak

 

SAANKO (trans: Footbridge) of Belgharia Rooptapas: A tribute to Ritwik Kumar Ghatak

 

While Ritwik Kumar Ghatak’s centenary year that had begun in November 2025 is passing by, the Bengali stage has but contributed very little in this celebration of the only member of the Trinity of Indian cinema who have had a deep-rooted connection with the theatre world, a reflection of which we find in his films – may it be in the elements that make up a scene like the framing, the lighting, the movements of the shots, or in the storyline itself. Like for instance in the 1961 masterpiece Komal Gandhar, my most favourite of the Ghatak films, one finds the crumbling world of the group theatre movement, as well as the human component of a struggling group. There are stagings of three plays in the film and the pieces of the stagings that the viewers get to see show signs of a very futuristic modern play-making. The film also has frames that gives the viewer an impression of a stage composition. The film ends, most unlike Ghatak films, on a promising note! Maybe because this playwright-playmaker did have faith in the struggle that has kept the Bengali stage kicking despite many a hindrance since perhaps the 1876 Control of the Dramatic Performance Act. He believed in the immortality of the Bengali stage in the backdrop of the rich cultural heritage of Bengal. Only a person initially baptised in theatre could have possibly create such moments on the screen.   

Doesn’t one find a sub-surface similarity of Ghatak films with those of Ingmar Bergman who also had had deep-rooted relations with the stage.

More on this perhaps some other time.  

A couple of groups have staged plays on the person himself, one (Chetana’s Meghe Dhaka Ritwik) very laudably excavate the artistic entity of Ritwik Kumar, while the other (Spandan Peoples Theatre’s Ritwik Ekti Nakshetrar Naam) goofed up the filmmaker’s very purpose of creating his genre of cinema! 

A lesser-known group, Belgharia Rooptapas on the other hand has done a very commendable job in staging Ritwik Kumar’s play Saanko, one of the plays that he had written during his days with the IPTA. The recent partition of the country had just doled out its miseries and the ‘50s saw a group of religious fanatics bathing the city of Calcutta in blood of fellow men. His plays were like heart wrenching catharsis of the unsurmountable agony he had to bear because of the partition that had made his homeland a distant foreign country.    

The play begins in Calcutta with a fratricide based on hatred of a different religion, and ends in a remote village in East Pakistan where a Hindu youth had come to visit the family of the Muslim youth killed in Calcutta. This educated, gentle youth in a very impulsive unguarded moment had become a consort in the killing of the Muslim youth. Since then, he had been suffering from repentance and has come to the parents of the Muslim youth to ask for forgiveness. The sister of the deceased who is a political activist and a United Front worker fighting against the Muslim League, imbibe in him a dream to build a secular world.

The dramatist Ritwik Kumar brings about in his way, as would be seen later in his films, a mellifluous melodrama in each of his characters. The character of the mother is typically built as the iconic mother image that is a recurring dramatic element in his later films. The killer who is impetuous, questions in repentance who is to be held responsible for this fate of his. The playwright having faith in Man and his virtues tries to build up a utopian world of camaraderie standing firm against the ruthless backdrop of strife and bloodshed.   

The playmaker Kaushik Ghosh had a tough challenge to translate the script on to the stage. A slight unguarded moment would have made the staging an ordinary melodramatic TV serial. The test was to portray the soul of the drama rather than telling the story. And if it is missed at any point of time, may be unwittingly, would have betrayed the sole purpose of the playwright in penning the play. Kaushik has been more than successful in doing his job. His mounting of each scene smacked of professional smartness. Ritwik Kumar had tuned every character to a high pitch, and so, Kaushik in his attempt to balance out, had to present them in exaggeration but in a very subdued way. And that is a tough job, indeed. The contradiction in the character of the Hindu youth, or the belief and faith in human beings of the bereaved mother, or for that matter, the unwavering political belief of the sister, or the mental conflict of the killer are portrayed firmly yet subtly. On the other hand, the blatancy of the instigator of the murderous act, a distinguished person of the neighbourhood, is presented in stark contrast.                

Each of the actors has ably done their job in the right earnest, so as to interpret the playmaker’s design. Each of them was careful not to overdo their parts so as to keep the melodramatic texture of the play. The veteran thespian Sumita Basu in the role of the mother once again proved her worth. The delivery of her lines with the perfect play of the tone depicted the firmness of the mother to tackle the unfortunate situation as well as keeping alive her natural maternal caring self. It is sad that not often do we come across her work these days, but it is absolutely certain that this particular work would be discussed for long. Another of the actors is not much seen, too, though this extremely powerful actor is a prized possession of the Bengali stage. He is Kajal Sambhu. His portrayal of the killer had the undertone of the tediousness of an impulsive criminal. Sumit Kumar Roy as the Hindu youth had to bear a heavy workload and he successfully executed the role. The sense of guilt in the character was well conveyed by his delivery of lines as well as his use of the stage. Ayan Mondal as the brother was good. Abhi Sengupta as the local bigshot was particularly cautious to avoid overdoing his role. Tanushree Saha as the sister was a bit stiff but did her part as directed by the maker. Sunny Barik was good as the Muslim youth. His rendering of a bhatiyali was commendable, so was Sumit Kumar’s song. In other sundry roles were Tarun Chakravarty, Anjan Roychoudhury and Gautam Chakravarty.                   

Bilu Dutt’s excellent stage gave the production its visual richness. His creation of the courtyard along the riverside had literally brought the house in a village in East Bengal on to the stage of Academy of Fine Arts. It was a gem of a work that would be mentioned for a long time to come. The unpronounced poetry that Ritwik Kumar had penned in his script took shape in Bilu’s job. Soumen Chakravarty’s lights was a perfect consort to Bilu’s stage, and together they became a character of the play. And last but not the least it was Abhijit Acharya’s background score that had wrapped the production in an unimpeachable Ritwik-ambience even before curtains rose. The use of Indian classical mixed with bhatiyali, and the tunes of Tagore’s Keno cheye achho go Maa and Tora je ja bolis bhai was simply mesmerizingly haunting for the viewers. Dress designs were done by Triparna Das and Aparna Das, while Bappaditya Pramanik did the make-over.

In the present times when radical Hindutva is baring its teeth and raising its fangs, this production of Rooptapas is very much desirable.

 

The next Blog would be MARSHUMER EKDIN (trans. A Day in the Season) of Newtown Bratyajan staged on 6 March 2026.        

A FRESH NEW START

 

A FRESH NEW START

After a very long long time I have once again come back to my blog. The last blog that I wrote was in November 2024.

Before going any further I would like to apologise to my readers for being so unfaithful. Along with this I should also tell my readers the reason for my being absent for so long and also why I have decided to come back to my blog-writing. Along with this I would also like to state that I have also decided to write my blogs regularly this time, without any discontinuity or long absence, as I have been doing since I started this website in 2011. In other words, this is an explanation for being absent and also for my returning back with a fresh new start.

As most of my readers know that I have been regularly writing out review articles in Bengali for the fortnightly Desh magazine for the last twenty-one odd years. And this engagement together with other writings as well as some very personal preoccupations that had kept me pretty much on my heels so as to get very little time for concentrating on blog-writing. Lately things have changed both in my personal life as well as in my related world outside. And with the changed bearings my daily world has also altered. So, I thought it prudent to give my blog a fresh start.   

I have been associated with Desh since 1984 – since the legendary editor Sagarmoy Ghosh asked me to do film-review articles for his magazine. After a stint I stopped writing as I had some differences of opinion with Sagarda regarding an article. In the mean time I was doing theatre reviews for The Telegraph, The Metropolitan newspapers. Then in 2006 Harsha Dutta the then editor of Desh asked me to do theatre reviews for his magazine. And so, I have been doing this work uninterrupted for the last twenty-one years. And I fear I am the seniormost theatre reviewer around.

Lately I find that things have changed in the running of the magazine. Once Desh had a tradition of regular cinema reviews together with theatre and music, apart from art. But then the organisation, planning and management of the magazine was different. And Desh was then more of a weekly literary and cultural journal. However, with the changing times the character of the readership has also changed. So, Desh, too, is different from what it was. Theatre had a place of pride in the ‘Shilpa-Sangskriti’ section of the magazine. In the recent past because of space crunch the reviews used to take time to be published – a couple of months at the most. And I was told to restrict my articles to 400-450 words. But this restriction of number of words could not do justice to a performance. I tried to keep my reviews within 700 words. In the very recent times, the scenario has taken a drastic change, sort of. Selected films are reviewed in every issue even of Hindi and English language ones. Of course, these are all policy matters of the house to which Desh belongs, and no one should have any grievances.

However, my point is that the theatre groups that strive hard to put up a show with all their energy and resources, are denied of their legitimate demand of their works being reviewed, as the magazine had accepted their prayers for a review. And naturally they eagerly wait to see their works being discussed in print. And this is truer for the off-Kolkata or off-off-Kolkata groups, who are struggling to get a foothold in this competing world, and equally for the not-so-known or established groups, These groups do not get frequent opportunities to stage in Kolkata. And moreover, majority of the shows have almost no box-office returns, and so have no financial gains. They still do theatre for the sheer love of it. So, for them the only return is a few words about them in the printed media, which might get them some sponsorships or other assistance for the future productions. At the same time, it is also true that apart from Desh there are no other periodicals or newspapers where drama reviews are published on a regular basis.

But the situation at present is not very enterprising. In the recent issues I find the reviews of the plays that were staged in February last are yet to see the light of the day. Since February till July, I have reviewed fourteen productions. It is my practice to jot down the articles and mail them to Desh within a couple of days of my seeing the productions. The fourteen pieces seem to be gathering dust on the editor’s desk. I have also figured out that the groups who had prayed to Desh for a review of their works also seem to be reluctant to enquire with Desh why has there been so long a delay for the reviews to be published.

Till date 632 review articles written by me have been published in the magazine in this stint of twenty-one years. But under the prevailing circumstances I doubt how long will my reviews would be published in Desh. To be frank, a sense of remorse has taken over me, and I personally feel obligated to the groups for this inordinate delay. I have decided instead to write in my blog the reviews of the plays. At the beginning I would devote on the fourteen productions the reviews of which are yet to be published in Desh.

The fourteen productions are listed below:

SANKO of Belgharia Rooptapas staged on 27 February

MARSUMER EKDIN of Newtown Bratyajon staged on 6 March

EKTA ISKOOL of Chakdaha Natyajon staged on 18 March

STREER PATRA of Nirbak Abhinay Akademi staged on 22 March 

KUNDUBABU of Sayak staged on 3 May

PRATHAM PARTHA of Sansriti staged on 13 May

SESH BASANTA of Naihati Rangasena staged on 27 May

JATRA GOPAL of Chadaha Natyajon staged on 28 May

RUPANTAR of Paramik staged on 1 June

ABU HOSAIN of Nandiranga staged on 10 June

SESH MATHATA KATA PARAR AAGE of Chaturtha Matra staged on 14 June

LAGAN CHAND of Thealight staged on 20 June

CORNER PLOT of Rangalok staged on 5 July

I should mention here that on 7 March I went to see GADAIBABU of Theatre Workshop, and the discussion of which was in the above list. But Desh had published it out of turn in its 17 August issue. So, I am not including it as my blog material.

Apart from these I have seen a few more plays – six I suppose – this year not for review purpose for on behalf of Desh. But unfortunately, I will not do justice to them if I rummage through my very fragile memory and try to discuss them now. These are PUNARJANMA of Anya Theatre, HEMLAT THE PRINCE of GARANHATA of Gayashpur Sanglap, ANTIGONE of Sansriti, RAMANUJ of Jadavpur Manthan, BAAKI ITIHAS of Nirbak Abhinoy Akademi, MORCHE PARA AALO of Shudrak, and TUMI THIK JODI BHABO TUMI THIK of Ancham Baidik.    

The first of the reviews that I would be posting in my next Blog will be SANKO (trans. Footbridge) staged by Rooptapas of Belgharia.

 

 

SAS Theatre Journal (37th issue) and a Few Untoward Observations

 

SAS Theatre Journal (37^th issue) and a Few Untoward Observations

SAS in its just published 37^th annual number is yet another important addition to the list of Bengali theatre journals as well as is a feather in its own cap for keeping up to its character of contributing to the repertoire of Bengali plays that SAS has a tradition of publishing. This voluminous issue has eight plays of which four are original works, two are adaptations, and two are translated. Apart from the plays the issue has as usual a number of significant articles. Presently I would be discussing about the articles only.

Amongst the essays, the first one is a bicentennial tribute to Michael Madhusudan by the academician and writer Tapodhir Bhattachraya. A very scholarly treatise that would surely help those working on Dutta and his work as well as readers like me who have scanty knowledge about the great poet and his times. But the accompanying picture of a poster of a performance of Meghnadbadh Kabya by a group is a bit misleading as the piece has, naturally no reference of the production.

The next article is yet another tribute item on the centenary of one of the architects of modern Indian theater, Habib Tanvir. Kaberi Basu’s treatment of the subject is interestingly a bit off the usual mode of eulogy. She has tried to dissect out the master’s theatrical being from his own writings and words, and thus has shown him from a perspective which is purely her own. This gives the readers some food for thought.

Just to add a personal note I would love to mention that in the 70’s on an invitation from the then Vice-Chancellor of Visva-Bharati, the eminent anthropologist, Prof. Surajit Sinha, Tanvir had come down to Shantiniketan with a few of his Chhattisgarhi actor of Naya Theatre and had staged Charandas Chor, with Govind Ram Nirmalkar playing the lead role. He needed a whole lot of actors to participate in the play which he built in the Nach idiom. I, doing my final year PG, was fortunate enough to be included in the batch of students that he picked to be part of the presentation. He showed us a few simple steps and gestures for us to perform. It was simply an exhilarating experience, that I would treasure all along.

Getting back to the discussion, it is interesting to note that the third piece of this volume is the first instalment of a supposedly serial entitled Bharat Rahasya Sandhane, which loosely translates into In Search of the Mistry of Bharata is a dissertation into the enigmatic personality (or personalities), and the time(s) of Bharata Muni and his Natya Shastra. The author’s conjectures are no doubt thought provoking especially for readers like me, who have very sparse and shallow idea about the subject. His speculations, like many other authorities, on the historicity of Bharata, is indeed an intriguing point. In this regard, I remember Kapila Vatsyayan’s comments that I came across in an article on a different context. She argued that there are strong indications in the text that perhaps it was a work of a single person. It has also been suggested that Bharata may be a generic name. Whatever, the readers certainly and eagerly await, (knowing well that it would be a long wait – yet another year!) the next instalment of this article by Siddartha Chakraborty, but with a request of a meticulous proof-reading.    

Nirmal Bandopadhyay has written a very important article dealing with the problems of penning the history of the modern Indian theatre and of building an archive in his article. The writer has discussed the problems in reference to the political and cultural perspective that makes it a very noteworthy piece.

Another very significant article is the one by Rahaman Choudhury on the state of theatre practice in Bangladesh. This article has obviously been written before the recent upheaval in that country. It traces the journey of Bangladesh theatre post the ’72 liberation. The author has been very candid in his observations. He has traced out the theatre atmosphere during Mujib’s time and also during Jia’s rule and has pointed out the dependence of the groups on the government, in recent time.

Five different genres of theatre in the recent Calcutta stage have been discussed by me in my article and on which I can make no comments, except that it has been printed with no printing mistakes. Apart from these, this volume has a drama review by Anirban Manna and a short note on a national festival of intimate plays held last year by Bibhaban.

Before ending I would like to comment on the Editorial piece which surprisingly has nothing regarding the issue or for that matter theatre, but is a very candid piece on the R.G. Kar issue that has recently tormented the State. I certainly appreciate the honest approach that the Editor has taken in calling the spade a ‘spade’, though I personally may not believe it to be a ‘spade’. This frankness of the Editor regarding the state of affairs in our state is laudable and he has not been elusive to speak out what he feels. But his drawing of an allegory with Arturo Ui is very far-fetched. Quoting someone’s WhatsApp entry he tells the story of the Brecht’s play in such a way, that one who is unaware of the play may think the Brechtian plot did have an episode of a young doctor being raped and killed, and the place being ransacked by hooligans. However, this bold approach of the Editor as a critique of the State government, is what is most striking in these times of duplicity where people hide what they believe in.

But this blatancy is diametrically opposite to the so-called ‘protests’ that were staged in the city and some urban places of the state where it was like coquetry in the guise of modesty, because it was not the R.G. Kar episode that took the centre stage ultimately, but a blatant negation of what the state government had been patiently offering repeatedly. One found a naked show of defiance and insolence, and a direct affront to the basic health care system that affects the common man. And this ‘protibad-utsab’ or ‘protest-festival’ of the Alimuddin-Lenin Sarani-patronized so-called ‘non-political’ front was particularly a mouth-watering recipe for the leading partner of the Godi Media here in Bengal, to devour upon.

This last part of my blog piece may seem out of place in my blog. But I believe I had to bring in political comments as many people from the theatre world had made it their vocation, it seemed, to indulge in anti-government sledging through out the period. As a fall-out some theatre personalities even felt it proper to return the honours that the state government had bestowed upon them as a token of protest. Though I do not believe in this mode of protest, but I do respect their individual decisions. But it was equally surprising to see one amongst them who also happens to be a very senior Left-oriented playwright, enjoying the kudos that were ushered on him by the BJP leadership just after in renouncing of his award!

But the most depressing fact about the whole episode has been the way a section of senior doctors who have their careers well established and members of the so-called ‘civil society’ together with a number of political parties instigated the juniors to go on for a head-on clash with the state government, risking their budding careers.   

That is THEATRE in real life, where the playwright, the director and the actors could be identified easily.

Before signing off I would once again get back to SAS and would like to say that eagerly I wait for the next issue with all its treasures.

THEATRE BULLETIN – a journal of Chaturtha Matra

 

THEATRE BULLETIN – a journal of Chaturtha Matra

My first encounter with Santanu Bandopadhyay’s work, as far as I remember, was way back in 2006, perhaps, when I had the experience of viewing a non-proscenium form of theatre at Sarala Memorial Hall of his group Total Theatre performing Shahzad Firdaus’s Byas (Vyasa). Then many a year rolled by and after a number of theatre activities of his group, I rediscovered him a few years back ‘doing’ theatre under the banner of Chaturtha Matra, a group he had formed together with the veteran thespian Kaberi Basu at the latter’s Achira in Phuldanga, near Shantiniketan. One may find it a bit awkward to see the phrase “doing’ theatre’. He certainly does theatre, for he has been, incessantly active, notwithstanding the Covid months, in presenting a performance every first and third Saturday of every month for the last eight years. The mainstay of the presentations, of course, is Basu’s performance, which in every instance defies her age. Their form of theatre which does not care for any commercial or rather financial gains is a unique instance of presenting theatre for the sake of the great art itself. The number of viewers for their performances has never been their concern, as they diligently do their theatre nevertheless the poorest of poor attendance. I certainly regret in not being able to include their form of theatre in my book on theatre and the audience, Theatrer Darshak Darshaker Theatre.   

The present blog is not about their theatre. I would make a try, I suppose, in my future blog to deal with the type of theatre Chaturtha Matra is engaged in, in the precincts of Achira. Today I would like to discuss about their journal, THEATRE BULLETIN, that they have started publishing lately. It is edited jointly by Kaberi Basu and Ashim Chattaraj, and is planned, I suppose, to be published quarterly. The present issue is the third one in line and was published in September.

The present issue has substantial reading material for those who look for serious stuff in these times of fluffy insignificant entertaining foolery packed in-between slick covers. Those who love to indulge in cheap slanders doing the rounds of the theatre world should avoid turning the pages of this 30-odd-page journal. 

The first article [or is it an ‘editorial’ sort of?] is a very important piece about the second production in their repertoire of 15 productions till now, CENSOR Kara Sharir, which translates into The Censored Body. This production, which unfortunately I did not have had the opportunity to see, is, from what I gather from seeing their other works is the signature play of this group. This has to be explained, and I propose to do it in my discussion on their type of theatre. For the present it will be suffice to know for the readers that they do not usually go in for a well-written drama, but they love to thrive on materials that are subjects of different essays, articles, of for that matter poetries, which they transform, usually done by Kaberi Basu, to give them a performative form which may not strictly adhere to the literal definition of Theatre. CENSOR Kara Sharir is a play that Kaberi Basu had written from an article named Censored Body by Iranian theatre activist Hamid Taheri. One gets to know about this person from this introductory article of THEATRE BULLETIN, and why was it selected to be performed by Chaturtha Matra.

The next article is by Kaberi Basu which is an essay on Artaud. The next two pieces are by Santanu Bandopadhyay. The first one is about the philosophy that has compelled him and Basu to do their kind of theatre since 2018 at Achira. This is a very important piece for those uninitiated in the language and idiom of the alternate theatre. His second piece is on the 77-year-old Serbian performance artiste Marina Abromovic and her Art of Endurance. This is also a very important and informative article that tells the reader about a performing art form that involves some kind of hardship or challenge for the artiste that tests the physical as well as the emotional resilience of the artiste and also of the viewers. I personally have been enriched from this article by Bandopadhyay. Another very significant piece is an interview by Abhimanyu Bandopadhyay of Nahid Hassanzadeh, a film-maker from Iran, who was in Kolkata for the screening of her film, Silent Glory at the 28^th KIFF. The conversation gives the reader a peep inside her own world as well as that of Iran with all the trappings. This issue kicks off a regular column by Jayati Basu about her journey across the theatre world. The readers would certainly look forward to an engrossing travelogue of a thespian with a load of varied experience. Three more articles have found their place in this issue. Bhumisuta Das, a budding talent and Kallol Bhattacharya, a theatre practitioner of yet another theatre form, have shared their ideas and thoughts with the readers. Sujit Rej pens his thoughts on viewing theatre.

Awaiting yet another issue of the journal, I sign off for the present.       

CHANDARAHATER KUTIR: A Haibun on the Stage

 

CHANDARAHATER KUTIR: A Haibun on the Stage

In an interview just before his sudden death, the poet-novelist Rabisankar Bal, about an ancient Japanese poetry format, that I first came to know about, known as Haibun, where, a long prose is combined with short 3-line Haikus in a prosimetric form. This came to my mind when I witnessed Dark Studio’s production of the drama based on Bal’s novelette, CHANDARAHATER KUTIR, which loosely translates into ‘The Cottage of the Moon-struck’. The drama has been penned by Ujjwal Chatterjee and the play has been made by Prithwish Rana.

During his days at a rehab centre, Bal had written this piece which can be said to be his intense search for himself. It has no so-called story-line. And thus, it has no continuity of events, so to say. But there are episodes that are parts of the lives of the occupants of the centre. The episodic format builds up into a big poetry giving space to reality as well as the imaginary unreal. So, the reader finds himself on a journey into the memory of the inmates. Through a character named Manotosh Basu, Bal identifies himself and brings in the 17^th century Japanese poet who is recognized as one of the pioneers of the Haiku form, Matsuo Basho as his alter-ego. He takes on a long journey on ‘The Narrow Road to the Deep North’. 

Chatterjee has adapted the piece into a performative form, and Basho is a character in the play. The playwright has tackled the other characters which are quite a few, very dexterously. A number of incongruities has been apparent like the daughter of Basu, or the lover of an inmate, or for that matter, the late entries of a few characters. These inconsistencies are not ostensible in the reading of the novelette as they come naturally in the flow of the stream of consciousness of the writer. But it is absolutely a big challenge for the dramatist to cope with. The tangent references of the present-day political scene, I felt, are like blemishes on the poetic face of the play, and could have been avoided.

But what stuns the viewer is the challenge that Rana has chosen to handle. Very few makers would dare to even touch this novelette with a barge-pole. His determination to give shape to Bal’s writing and do justice to Chatterjee’s script warrants applauds and ovation. It would not be an exaggeration to say that his idiomatic design in mounting of the script has hitherto not been experienced by me. The surrealism in every nook and corner of the literary piece has been given a post-structural treatment, where the language of the play questions the established norms of theatre. And the conventional idiom of theatre has been deconstructed by Rana to present a beautiful Haibun on the stage of the Minerva Theatre.

Rana’s sense of the theatrical aesthetics is strongly present in every aspect of the making of the play, as was seen in his earlier work, too. Stage by Abhra Dasgupta has the post-structural elements in its design executions, with sectorial divisions and different elevations, projecting the total dramatic concept of the play. Lights, too, by Dasgupta give the viewer the experience of oscillating between the real and the dream worlds. Moumita Dutta’s dress needs special mention. Music planning and its execution by Debraj Bhattacharya and Tanmay Pal is an important element in this production. Buddhadev Das’s choreographic arrangements have helped very effectively the play-maker’s designs of building up different poignant dramatic moments on the stage.

It should be mentioned before signing off that Prithwish Rana has, apart from a few, orchestrated a bunch of very raw actors who have not failed him and have made the viewers look forward for their future endeavours.       

               

An accomplished stage actor’s venture into the world of screen: Sanjita in Doaansh

 

An accomplished stage actor’s venture into the world of screen: Sanjita in Doaansh

For the readers of my blog, it may be a little surprising to find this piece about a film viewing experience. The purpose of my doing this piece is to discuss an accomplished stage actor’s venture into the world of screen acting.   

It is nothing new in a stage actor facing the movie camera. So, seeing Sanjita work in her debut (?) film called Doaansh was nothing novel in it, as such. But what is fresh to experience is her style of acting. Her poignant portrayal of a character of a woman belonging to a fringe society of the Sundarbans, is indeed significantly refreshing for a theatre spectator.

The film produced by Mojotale Entertainments & Distributions is made by Sayan Bandopadhyay on the life and struggle of the Moulis, the honey-gatherers of the Sundarbans. The matriarch of one such family who had lost her husband and her son to the attacks of the tiger, as well as her daughter-in-law to the crocodile, is living a life of a boat-woman and brining-up her grand daughter who is in her youth bubbling with life. With oppressions mounting, things turn ugly and the woman delivers her way of justice to square things up.

Though the script gives not much space to Sanjita to elucidate the character of the elderly woman, but her gait, her flexing of the hands of a tired oarswoman, the subtle expressions of her eyes, twitching of her face muscles and of course her delivery of dialogues in a non-dramatic dreary tone of worn-out woman and that too in a lingo far from the urbane tongue, bring out the inner soul of the tormented character. The internal texture of roughness in the woman has been brought out in a silent mien in the last shot that has been exquisitely framed by the maker. As such close-up viewings for the theatre spectators are never possible, so the quality of performance on the part of the actor has to be stepped down. Thus, for an actor like Sanjita who has honed her stage acting to such heights, it is a challenge that requires a lot of cerebral exercise and a lot of skill to perform. And she has done her bit to perfection as much as was possible for her in the breathing space the script offered her. Such differentiating performances on screen are not much seen in established stage actors, baring a few. And as such many renowned actors of the stage have failed to put a mark on the screen.

We certainly can hope to see Sanjita on the screen in the future.         

THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR : hopefully a little stand-apart theatre journal

 

THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR : hopefully a little stand-apart theatre journal

Yet another theatre journal has been launched. This itself is on one-hand a gratifying news as it indicates an effort on the part of the publishers, who are basically theatre-workers to go in for some literary quest alongside their performance pursuits. On the other-hand there may be a factor of fright of experiencing yet another dreary exercise of going through articles that have little novelty in them. This apprehension of the reader is not unfounded as most of the theatre journals are stuffed with articles which are mostly ‘cut-and-paste’ stuffs lacking in originality.

Going through the first issue of THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR I believe that it would tread a diverse path in the future which may not be radically different, but would certainly be different, as the name suggests. The name THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR would roughly translate into ‘the third space of theatre’. As the third dimension gives a sense of volume – an extension to the length and breadth of anything we see, so one can say, it is in this case, too. The journal seems to open up a third space that is both an extension of the space we generally think about and talk about, as well as about the off-center or off-off-center perspectives of our theatre world.

But the most significant character of this periodical, quarterly, I suppose, is that it is not a mouthpiece, a term which some may resent, or a publication of a particular theatre group. It is a periodical on behalf of a group of young theatre talents who have their own theatre groups to manage, and who had joined hands to form a platform by the name of Jahanamer Samachar, which literally translates into News from Hell. The name itself suggests that these people seem to venture into areas where conventionalists would fear to step into. They are bent to go against the orthodoxy of the elitist mindset of the established. This platform was active during the Covid times with relief works and produced a very popular programme of interactions with people of theatre on the net called Anadhikar Charcha, which again loosely translates into Unwarranted Discussions. And on their completion of five years of camaraderie in Hell, Jahanamer Samachar has decided to go in prints with THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR which according to them is ‘an itinerant manifesto of Jahanamer Samachar’.

The foursome who are the mainstay of Jahanamer Samachar, Debashis Dutta of IFTA, Rakesh Ghosh of Dumdum Shabdomukdho, Atanu Sarkar of Thealight and Avi Chakraborty of Ashoknagar Natyamukh form the editorial board of THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR with Anshuman Kar, who has carved out a niche in the Bengali poetry world, as the Chief Editor.

This edition has a very important article on Badal Sircar by Rajat Das, which helps the reader to get glimpses of the person in this poet-playwright whose centenary year is in the offing. Four in-depth studies on the workings of four great theatre-makers like K N Panicker, H Kanhailal, Satyabrata Raut and Syed Jamil Ahmed give the reader a semblance of the first-hand experiences that Debashis Dutta, Atanu Sarkar, Avi Chakraborty and Rajib Bardhan, respectively, had acquired during their interactions with these four greats.

A reproduction of an episode of Anadhikar Charcha brings back a fresh memory of the rare talent of the Bengali stage Prasenjit Bardhan, whom we lost so untimely.

The third space is defined by a playlet by Chaitali Chattopadhyay; an enlightening article by Atanu Sarkar on a fringe theatre group, Mangrove Theatre and its mentor Sajal Mondal; Silchar’s theatre history in an informative article by Dipendu Das; and a review article of Candid Theatre’s Malyaban by Ashok Bose. Hindol Bhattacharya has reviewed an anthology of poems, ‘Theatre Bishoyak Kobita’ by Bratya Basu.

The journal, at least the first issue is not voluminous as is seen with some in circulation, and which poses real problems in handling the volume, let alone reading it.

Before signing off let me divulge my misgivings about the editorial which ends with a reference to Estragon’s ‘crritic’ insult in Beckett’s Waiting. And the editor dedicates the journal to ‘those spectacled college-teacher-critics’ of the Bengali theatre whose ‘roles had been perfectly guessed by Beckett seventy-five years ago’. I feel I am lucky not to be at other end of the brunt, though I am a bespectacled retired college teacher, but I consider myself a viewer who writes reviews, and not a critic (or crritic). But unfortunately, I am seen as one considered as one. May I humbly take this opportunity to inform my blog readers that the Wikipedia page on Theatre Criticism is written by yours truly. And there I have differentiated Reviews from Criticisms, categorically. A critic writes extensive articles which are deep analytical discourses of the play against the backdrop of the theatre-arts as a whole, and a reviewer simply expresses his/her instant reactions after viewing the work. I do exactly that, and what the critic does is an exercise that is beyond my capacity.

But I wonder why is there such bitterness in the minds of the editorial board of THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR against those who choose to write on the works that are staged for public viewing?