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Serious Tribute to Satyajit Ray- Birth Centenary
- Thread starterkomaalrani
- Start date
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Awards
- Golden Lion of St. Mark, Venice, 1957
- Cinema Nuovo Award, Venice, 1957
- Critics Award, Venice, 1957
- FIPRESCI Award, London, 1957
- Best Film and Best Direction, San Francisco, 1958
- International Critic’ Award, San Francisco, 1958
- Golden Laurel for Best Foreign Film of 1958-59, USA
- Selznik Golden Laurel, Berlin, 1960
- Bodil Award: Best Non-European Film of the Year, Denmark, 1967
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Aparajito is the second film in “The Apu Trilogy”, preceded by Pather Panchali and followed by Apur Sansar. The film is basically about Apu growing up and growing away from his mother. The highlight of the film is the mother-son relationship and conflict. The characterization of Apu and mother are a treat. Karuna Banerjee gives a brilliant performance as Sarbajaya.
As usual, the film is devoid of excesses both in form and content. The two deaths, of Harihar and Sarbajaya, are handled with great elegance.
At dawn Harihar lies ill with Sarbajaya sitting beside him though the night. He mumbles, “Ganga”. He is asking for a sip of holy water from the river ‘Ganga’. Sarbajaya wakes Apu to fetch water from the holy river. Apu brings the water. Sarbajaya lifts Harihar’s head and pours the water in his mouth. Harihar’s head drops back on the pillow. Cut to a shot of a flock of pigeons taking off and whirling in the sky. Harihar has been freed of his misery.
In the sequence of Sarbajaya’s death – Evening, Sarbajaya is sitting leaning against a tree outside her house, awaiting Apu’s return. A train passes but she does not react, as she knows Apu is not on this train. Next, we see her sitting in the verandah of the house, expressionless. Suddenly, she hears Apu calling her. She is hallucinating. Hoping that Apu has returned, she drags herself out. As she stands looking for Apu, she sees a group of fireflies swirling by the pond.
Filming of this scene posed a technical challenge, as even the fastest available film stock could not capture the light emitted by the fireflies. Ray and his crew overcame the problem with an indigenous solution. Ray recounts in his ‘My Years with Apu‘,
“… We chose the toughest members of our crew, had them dressed up in black shirt and trousers and let each of them carry a flashlight bulb and a length of wire and a battery. The bulbs were held aloft in their right hands while they illustrated the swirling movements of fireflies in a dance, alternately connecting and disconnecting the wire to the bulbs …”
As usual, the film is devoid of excesses both in form and content. The two deaths, of Harihar and Sarbajaya, are handled with great elegance.
At dawn Harihar lies ill with Sarbajaya sitting beside him though the night. He mumbles, “Ganga”. He is asking for a sip of holy water from the river ‘Ganga’. Sarbajaya wakes Apu to fetch water from the holy river. Apu brings the water. Sarbajaya lifts Harihar’s head and pours the water in his mouth. Harihar’s head drops back on the pillow. Cut to a shot of a flock of pigeons taking off and whirling in the sky. Harihar has been freed of his misery.
In the sequence of Sarbajaya’s death – Evening, Sarbajaya is sitting leaning against a tree outside her house, awaiting Apu’s return. A train passes but she does not react, as she knows Apu is not on this train. Next, we see her sitting in the verandah of the house, expressionless. Suddenly, she hears Apu calling her. She is hallucinating. Hoping that Apu has returned, she drags herself out. As she stands looking for Apu, she sees a group of fireflies swirling by the pond.
Filming of this scene posed a technical challenge, as even the fastest available film stock could not capture the light emitted by the fireflies. Ray and his crew overcame the problem with an indigenous solution. Ray recounts in his ‘My Years with Apu‘,
“… We chose the toughest members of our crew, had them dressed up in black shirt and trousers and let each of them carry a flashlight bulb and a length of wire and a battery. The bulbs were held aloft in their right hands while they illustrated the swirling movements of fireflies in a dance, alternately connecting and disconnecting the wire to the bulbs …”
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- 21,684
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Trivia
The novels had a female character named Leela who influenced Apu's alienation from his mother when he was living in Calcutta. After rejecting two aspirants, Ray found one actress to portray the character, but the actress was not allowed to act in the film by her fiancé. Eventually, Ray removed the character from the script reluctantly.
Ray himself later commented that he thought Leela, with whom Apu had an understated affair, was a strong reason behind Apu's attraction of Calcutta, and that without Leela's presence in the film, Apu's attraction to Calcutta may seem to some extent artificial. "I'm never sure," he said, "whether Apu's attachment to the city without the element of the girlfriend is strong enough, the pull that the city exerts is a bit abstract." However, when he watched the movie later, he did not feel the absence of Leela.
Subrata Mitra, the cinematographer for The Apu Trilogy, made his first technical innovation with this film: the introduction of bounce lighting. According to the Internet Encyclopedia of Cinematographers:
The novels had a female character named Leela who influenced Apu's alienation from his mother when he was living in Calcutta. After rejecting two aspirants, Ray found one actress to portray the character, but the actress was not allowed to act in the film by her fiancé. Eventually, Ray removed the character from the script reluctantly.
Ray himself later commented that he thought Leela, with whom Apu had an understated affair, was a strong reason behind Apu's attraction of Calcutta, and that without Leela's presence in the film, Apu's attraction to Calcutta may seem to some extent artificial. "I'm never sure," he said, "whether Apu's attachment to the city without the element of the girlfriend is strong enough, the pull that the city exerts is a bit abstract." However, when he watched the movie later, he did not feel the absence of Leela.
Subrata Mitra, the cinematographer for The Apu Trilogy, made his first technical innovation with this film: the introduction of bounce lighting. According to the Internet Encyclopedia of Cinematographers:
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Views
Aparajito was filmed forty years ago, half way around the world, yet the themes and emotions embedded in the narrative are strikingly relevant to modern Western society (thus explaining why it is called a "timeless classic")....Aparajito is an amazing motion picture. Its rich, poetic composition is perfectly wed to the sublime emotional resonance of the narrative. For those who have seen Pather Panchali, Aparajito provides a nearly-flawless continuation of the journey begun there. Yet, for those who missed Ray's earlier effort, this film loses none of its impact. On its own or as part of the Apu Trilogy, Aparajito should not be missed.
James Berardinelli
the relationship between Apu and his mother observes truths that must exist in all cultures: how the parent makes sacrifices for years, only to see the child turn aside and move thoughtlessly away into adulthood....It is about a time, place and culture far removed from our own, and yet it connects directly and deeply with our human feelings. It is like a prayer, affirming that this is what the cinema can be, no matter how far in our cynicism we may stray.
Roger Ebert
During the Venice Film Festival, Penelope Houston, who was among the jury, broke protocol and told Ray personally: "I think it was magnificent".The Japanese director Akira Kurosawa had an important film entered in that year's festival competition, Throne of Blood (Kumonosu-jō), which lost to Ray's film. However, many years later, Kurosawa's daughter generated a list of 100 films admired by him; this list quoted him as having affirmed the jury's choice as "ABSOLUTELY right"
Across the world, filmmakers such as Martin Scorsese, James Ivory,[39] Abbas Kiarostami, Elia Kazan and Wes Anderson have been influenced by The Apu Trilogy, with many others (such as Kurosawa) praising the work
Aparajito was filmed forty years ago, half way around the world, yet the themes and emotions embedded in the narrative are strikingly relevant to modern Western society (thus explaining why it is called a "timeless classic")....Aparajito is an amazing motion picture. Its rich, poetic composition is perfectly wed to the sublime emotional resonance of the narrative. For those who have seen Pather Panchali, Aparajito provides a nearly-flawless continuation of the journey begun there. Yet, for those who missed Ray's earlier effort, this film loses none of its impact. On its own or as part of the Apu Trilogy, Aparajito should not be missed.
James Berardinelli
the relationship between Apu and his mother observes truths that must exist in all cultures: how the parent makes sacrifices for years, only to see the child turn aside and move thoughtlessly away into adulthood....It is about a time, place and culture far removed from our own, and yet it connects directly and deeply with our human feelings. It is like a prayer, affirming that this is what the cinema can be, no matter how far in our cynicism we may stray.
Roger Ebert
During the Venice Film Festival, Penelope Houston, who was among the jury, broke protocol and told Ray personally: "I think it was magnificent".The Japanese director Akira Kurosawa had an important film entered in that year's festival competition, Throne of Blood (Kumonosu-jō), which lost to Ray's film. However, many years later, Kurosawa's daughter generated a list of 100 films admired by him; this list quoted him as having affirmed the jury's choice as "ABSOLUTELY right"
Across the world, filmmakers such as Martin Scorsese, James Ivory,[39] Abbas Kiarostami, Elia Kazan and Wes Anderson have been influenced by The Apu Trilogy, with many others (such as Kurosawa) praising the work
- 21,684
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- 21,684
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Reviews
Aparajito (The Unvanquished)
Larsen on Films
Aparajito, the second film in Satyajit Ray’s Apu trilogy, opens with the camera looking out the window of a train, that symbol of modernity from Pather Panchali. As it races across a bridge and steel beams flash by, we leave the country for the city. Aparajito will go on to eloquently dramatize similar oppositions: tradition versus invention; religion versus science; adolescence versus adulthood. All square off in the life of Apu, and indeed in his heart.
Now settled in the city of Banares, where his father (Kanu Banerjee) earns occasional money as a priest for hire and his mother (Karuna Banerjee) keeps an apprehensive eye on their close-quarter neighbors, Apu (Pinaki Sengupta) has turned the shrines and alleys, river and stairways, into his personal playground. Ray’s camera is always in search of the boy, managing to find him even when he’s peeking from corners while playing a game of hide and seek.
The most remarkable shot in the film, though, is one involving not Apu, but his mother. After the family’s fate is altered once again, she must decide whether to remain with her employers as their cook or move back to a rural life with her uncle. As she walks down a stairway distracted by her thoughts, each tentative step bringing her closer, the camera patiently holds. Then, just as she comes close enough for her face to fill the frame, there is a whistle and a swish pan into a shot of a train racing across the tracks.
As Apu’s mother, Karuna Banerjee strikes such a chord that Aparajito becomes her film as much as it is his. She takes three of the central strands of motherhood – joy, longing and sadness – and manages to weave them together in almost every scene. The moments near the end, after Apu has left her to pursue his studies in Calcutta, are sorrowful and doom-laden. Is her future that of aged auntie (Chunibala Devi) in Pather Panchali, whose family abandoned her to a lonely death in the woods? Another callback to the first film takes place when Apu tells his mother about his desire to leave. There is a close-up of her crestfallen face as we hear the scream of a train in the background – reminding us of the excited gleam little Apu used to get in his eyes whenever a train passed by his village when he was a boy.
Aparajito charts Apu’s growth from boy to young man, at which point he’s played by Smaran Ghosal. A lanky, smiling presence – often comical in his Western dress shoes and traditional robe – Apu throws himself into his studies while making occasional trips back home. These are delicate, touching scenes, as mother and son – though in agreement about his future – tiptoe their way around the reality of it. Apu’s final visit is a heartbreaking sequence, one whose emotion – once again – is fostered by Ray’s perfectly placed camera. As Apu rushes into the walled courtyard of their home in search of his mother, the camera remains outside, eventually tracking to the right in order to capture the desperate Apu coming out of another doorway. The camera doesn’t enter, because Ray (and we) know what Apu will eventually come to admit: he no longer belongs behind those walls.
Aparajito
As the second in Satyajit Ray's trilogy of Indian life, Aparajito is a worthy successor to the first film Pather Panchali. It doesn't have quite the tension or quite the variety of mood but it has a special brooding quality and a more explicit conflict between East and West.
By Variety
As the second in Satyajit Ray’s trilogy of Indian life, Aparajito is a worthy successor to the first film Pather Panchali. It doesn’t have quite the tension or quite the variety of mood but it has a special brooding quality and a more explicit conflict between East and West.
The story [from Bibhuti Bannerjee’s novel] simply continues to follow the fortunes and misfortunes of one Brahman family, which has moved to the holy city of Banares, where the father, movingly played by Kanu Bannerjee, practices as a priest until he contracts a fatal illness.
The mother, played by sad-eyed Karuna Bannerjee, is forced to take work as a rich family’s cook until a priestly uncle takes her and her little son, played by Pinaki Sen Gupta, back to a small village, where the 10-year-old boy becomes a priest. The little boy, however, yearns for a Western education and eventually wins a scholarship to a Calcutta university. The city tears the young man, played by Sumiran Ghosjal, from his mother and she becomes ill.
Satyajit Ray’s relentless camera searches out the foibles of mankind: a half-Westernized Hindu lecher hiding a bottle of forbidden liquor, a fellow Brahman trying to put the touch on the father, a hideous railway butcher peddling religious nostrums, etc. There are moments of lightness, too, when the son and a schoolmate stretch out on a grassy slope and contemplate the Calcutta roadstead and even a voyage to England.
This is the India of the 1920s, an awakening India, an empire bound by stringent religious precepts which slowly grows to realize its own strength.
Aparajito (The Unvanquished)
Larsen on Films
Aparajito, the second film in Satyajit Ray’s Apu trilogy, opens with the camera looking out the window of a train, that symbol of modernity from Pather Panchali. As it races across a bridge and steel beams flash by, we leave the country for the city. Aparajito will go on to eloquently dramatize similar oppositions: tradition versus invention; religion versus science; adolescence versus adulthood. All square off in the life of Apu, and indeed in his heart.
Now settled in the city of Banares, where his father (Kanu Banerjee) earns occasional money as a priest for hire and his mother (Karuna Banerjee) keeps an apprehensive eye on their close-quarter neighbors, Apu (Pinaki Sengupta) has turned the shrines and alleys, river and stairways, into his personal playground. Ray’s camera is always in search of the boy, managing to find him even when he’s peeking from corners while playing a game of hide and seek.
The most remarkable shot in the film, though, is one involving not Apu, but his mother. After the family’s fate is altered once again, she must decide whether to remain with her employers as their cook or move back to a rural life with her uncle. As she walks down a stairway distracted by her thoughts, each tentative step bringing her closer, the camera patiently holds. Then, just as she comes close enough for her face to fill the frame, there is a whistle and a swish pan into a shot of a train racing across the tracks.
Here and elsewhere, you can sense Ray experimenting even beyond the intricate camerawork he exhibited in Pather Panchali. In a sense, Aparajito offers a formalistic maturation that somewhat mirrors the thematic maturation of Apu. The music, once again by Ravi Shankar, similarly stretches. There are still traditional Indian arrangements – largely reserved for the scenes of religious ceremonies – yet also impressionistic flourishes of the kind you would hear in a contemporary film score. (Notice the ominous, wavering hums when Apu’s mother falls ill.)
As Apu’s mother, Karuna Banerjee strikes such a chord that Aparajito becomes her film as much as it is his. She takes three of the central strands of motherhood – joy, longing and sadness – and manages to weave them together in almost every scene. The moments near the end, after Apu has left her to pursue his studies in Calcutta, are sorrowful and doom-laden. Is her future that of aged auntie (Chunibala Devi) in Pather Panchali, whose family abandoned her to a lonely death in the woods? Another callback to the first film takes place when Apu tells his mother about his desire to leave. There is a close-up of her crestfallen face as we hear the scream of a train in the background – reminding us of the excited gleam little Apu used to get in his eyes whenever a train passed by his village when he was a boy.
Aparajito charts Apu’s growth from boy to young man, at which point he’s played by Smaran Ghosal. A lanky, smiling presence – often comical in his Western dress shoes and traditional robe – Apu throws himself into his studies while making occasional trips back home. These are delicate, touching scenes, as mother and son – though in agreement about his future – tiptoe their way around the reality of it. Apu’s final visit is a heartbreaking sequence, one whose emotion – once again – is fostered by Ray’s perfectly placed camera. As Apu rushes into the walled courtyard of their home in search of his mother, the camera remains outside, eventually tracking to the right in order to capture the desperate Apu coming out of another doorway. The camera doesn’t enter, because Ray (and we) know what Apu will eventually come to admit: he no longer belongs behind those walls.
Aparajito
As the second in Satyajit Ray's trilogy of Indian life, Aparajito is a worthy successor to the first film Pather Panchali. It doesn't have quite the tension or quite the variety of mood but it has a special brooding quality and a more explicit conflict between East and West.
By Variety
As the second in Satyajit Ray’s trilogy of Indian life, Aparajito is a worthy successor to the first film Pather Panchali. It doesn’t have quite the tension or quite the variety of mood but it has a special brooding quality and a more explicit conflict between East and West.
The story [from Bibhuti Bannerjee’s novel] simply continues to follow the fortunes and misfortunes of one Brahman family, which has moved to the holy city of Banares, where the father, movingly played by Kanu Bannerjee, practices as a priest until he contracts a fatal illness.
The mother, played by sad-eyed Karuna Bannerjee, is forced to take work as a rich family’s cook until a priestly uncle takes her and her little son, played by Pinaki Sen Gupta, back to a small village, where the 10-year-old boy becomes a priest. The little boy, however, yearns for a Western education and eventually wins a scholarship to a Calcutta university. The city tears the young man, played by Sumiran Ghosjal, from his mother and she becomes ill.
Satyajit Ray’s relentless camera searches out the foibles of mankind: a half-Westernized Hindu lecher hiding a bottle of forbidden liquor, a fellow Brahman trying to put the touch on the father, a hideous railway butcher peddling religious nostrums, etc. There are moments of lightness, too, when the son and a schoolmate stretch out on a grassy slope and contemplate the Calcutta roadstead and even a voyage to England.
This is the India of the 1920s, an awakening India, an empire bound by stringent religious precepts which slowly grows to realize its own strength.
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- 54,995
- 259