A cinematic moment achieves greatness in capturing a particular moment of life, a moment which although small and individual by itself, represents or even encapsulates an entire way of life, a culture, or the personality of the character in entirety; Charulatha swinging in the garden; What Blake calls ‘To see the world in a grain of sand.’
Satyajit Ray was supremely capable of evoking this aura in his films. Everything that which we call part of the cinematic craft adds to the effect; costume, music, milieu, light and shade (camera work) and editing. Such a moment cannot be introduced suddenly but has to be evoked gradually. It may take time progressing slowly, unhurriedly, because an entire life time has to be crunched into this one moment. But the effect, once accomplished is subtle and devastating.
The history of Cinema is replete with such poignant shots deftly handled by the masters. Ranked among the greatest film makers of the twentieth century, Ray has accomplished many such memorable scenes in his films. In another film, Prati Dhwandi, Ray captures the angst of a generation of youth in India of the 70’s. In a job interview the protagonist is asked different questions, ranging from the earth’s circumference to etc, which are totally irrelevant to the job he is seeking. As the interview goes on in the presence of an impersonal, elite, ensconced, bureaucratic board, the frayed, neurotic group of job seekers outside awaits their turn.
In Shatranj ke Khilari, the laidback, Nawabi life style is recreated with a touch of genius as the two contenders sit down for their chess battle with paan, hookah and other allied paraphernalia. In Mahanagar, the boss and his imposing attitude, (as to who controls things) is evident in the way, he handles calls, lights up and dismisses.
In Aparajitho and Apur Sansar, the evocation of Varanasi and the marital bliss of a newly wed couple are examples of the highest quality of cinematic craft. In Aparajitho, the serene flow of the Ganges, the narrow by lanes of this historic city and the perennial presence of the Ghats are filmed with deep empathy and understanding.
As we watch these films, one has a sense of realization as to how the director’s oeuvre is very much like a writer’s. What distinguishes the cinema of a great director like Satyajit Ray is the insight; the insight that we tend to miss either out of familiarity or out of contempt for the everyday reality. This everyday reality reveals the deep resonances and conflicts at work in our society, but is available only to an insightful mind. Perhaps this insight comes with a deeper engagement and as it is said, evolves through the journey or the process itself, as we very often hasten towards the outcome or the product, being inattentive to the process. The Celluloid journey of Satyajit Ray is the insight of a sensitive mind which shuns flamboyance for a more minute, analysis of the ‘presence’ or the reality around us.
In Jalsaghar, another aspect of Ray’s craft is on display at a higher level; authenticity; the recreation of the story of a proud Zamindar, who is webbed to his decadent life style in his palatial house. The authentic recreation of a way of life; long vanished ; consumed by the relentless march of crass commerce and selfishness permeates the film and lends it the grandeur and richness it is known for.
In Aranyer Din Ratri the camera delicately captures the contrasting life styles of two sets of people; one who is out there in the forest, and know the rhythm and cadences of Nature very well but are dissipated and bored, and the other a group of young guys wavering , towards irresponsibility out there to have some fun and excitement. In Jana Aranya and Seemabaddha, the depravity of society is not only stark but also real because it carries no extra baggage in the form of dialogue, drama or debate.
Satyajit Ray’s films have attained the status of classics and been there among the greatest films of the world, because of the thematic integrity. First the story is a singular demonstration of the theme unfolding. Second if there is a polemic, it is not at all overt or visible, but internalized into the plot and the characters.
Many writers and critics have spoken about the universality and humanism of Ray’s films. Much like the Italian film maker Vittorio De Sica whose film Bicycle Thieves Ray admired greatly, Ray narrates the emerging social reality and the importance of human relations. The last scene of Bicycle Thieves (father and son leaving together) and Apur Sansar are similar, perhaps investing some value in what is there to be hoped for than what has been lost. As a film maker Ray says it is his responsibility to pose the questions.
Ray’s work is unique but a comparison with another great film maker Yasujiro Ozu from Japan reveals how film making is about muted simplicity. The austerity and the toned down performance of the actors (as opposed to the theatrical and melodramatic) as in Tokyo story of Ozu or Ray’s Kanchenjunga leave the audience with an impression of being a part of the scene. The absence of unnecessary intervention from the characters (dialogue) or the camera (no jerking-jarring) enables the subtle play of the elements, light, shadow, props and the passage of time in the scene and the audience is attentive to it. In the end what materializes is a certain universality or timelessness. Nature becomes a part of the film and the rhythm and resonances like water flowing and the swaying of grass stalks as in Pather Panchali create this aura of transcendence.
Both directors are intimately connected to the world around them; Ozu with his post war Japan and Ray with late 19th and early 20th century Bengal. This brings me to my first proposition, the essential cinematic moment. It is not just the filming of a scene but a lingering memory, encapsulating a range of thoughts, ideas, being able to initiate in a sensitive mind, a complete spectrum of life, replete with meaning and remembrance.