This film requires an hour-long discussion. It unearths the lost legacy of Sri Swapankumar, the man, his magic and his myth, all in a period of two-and-a-half hours. Sri Swapankumar ruled the hearts of young adult Bangali boys and girls from the Sixties to the Eighties, with his deliciously campy thrillers. Baaj-pakhi, Kaal-naginee, Kalo Nekrrey, DrAAgon (in the Bangla pronunciation!), and of course, the indomitable Deepak Chatterjee and his aide Ratanlal. Ridden with absurdities, loopholes, logical fallacies, and don't-care-a-damn plot-twists, these books were underground publications sold for a few paisa each. Rebuffed by the elite, lapped up by the masses, and envied by literary giants, Sri Swapankumar had built a counter-culture lore without even being conscious of it.
Debaloy Bhattacharya pays a brilliant tribute to that bygone Kolkata, the not-so-smart but always accepting city, its third-world, yesteryear innocence with this film. It is ribald, cocky yet full of pathos. The meta references are fantastic, intertextuality runs through and through the length-and-breadth of the film. The subtexts of high-brow culture and sub-culture, "bhadralok" and "chhotolok", the pristine and the pulp, is masterfully done. The film takes sharp digs at the hypocritical, holier-than-thou Bangali elite and revels in its consciously-built irreverent, surrealist landscape. Kolkata has never been shot thus, feeling like the land of an urban fairytale. The back-and-forth between the real and the hyper-real, dream and consciousness, text and inter-text, realism and fantasy, is achieved with skillful ease. The music led by "Nirbashito Chnaad", "Jahaj Cholechhe" and "Missile Utshob" delivers as well. The supporting cast is good but the heavy-lifting is done by the two male-leads, Abir and Paran, it's a treat to watch Sri Swapankumar's banter with his own creation Deepak Chatterjee. Swapan is the forgotten author who still dreams of a come-back, and Deepak is the cynical alcoholic, once an idealist hero, but now an angst-ridden recluse. One can go on and on praising the film. The only thing I disagree with is the on-your-face political stand the film takes towards the end. Otherwise, it's a 24-carat Sri Swapankumar delicacy. Ones familiar with that taste, go for it at once!
Debaloy Bhattacharya pays a brilliant tribute to that bygone Kolkata, the not-so-smart but always accepting city, its third-world, yesteryear innocence with this film. It is ribald, cocky yet full of pathos. The meta references are fantastic, intertextuality runs through and through the length-and-breadth of the film. The subtexts of high-brow culture and sub-culture, "bhadralok" and "chhotolok", the pristine and the pulp, is masterfully done. The film takes sharp digs at the hypocritical, holier-than-thou Bangali elite and revels in its consciously-built irreverent, surrealist landscape. Kolkata has never been shot thus, feeling like the land of an urban fairytale. The back-and-forth between the real and the hyper-real, dream and consciousness, text and inter-text, realism and fantasy, is achieved with skillful ease. The music led by "Nirbashito Chnaad", "Jahaj Cholechhe" and "Missile Utshob" delivers as well. The supporting cast is good but the heavy-lifting is done by the two male-leads, Abir and Paran, it's a treat to watch Sri Swapankumar's banter with his own creation Deepak Chatterjee. Swapan is the forgotten author who still dreams of a come-back, and Deepak is the cynical alcoholic, once an idealist hero, but now an angst-ridden recluse. One can go on and on praising the film. The only thing I disagree with is the on-your-face political stand the film takes towards the end. Otherwise, it's a 24-carat Sri Swapankumar delicacy. Ones familiar with that taste, go for it at once!
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