Charlie Chaplin
If these words of Sir Charles Chaplin can be imagined to breathe life ...they have through the cinematic splendour of the Bengali movie "Chaplin" (2011). The story of a father and son living in impoverished physical conditions and yet in abundance of love, caring and with the depth of understanding of life living and realities.
The story revolves around the main protagonist Bangshi Das (Rudranil Ghosh), who is an impersonator of Charlie Chaplin at weddings and birthday parties and his 6 year old son Nimua (Soham)...Bangshi's life... his every breath. They live and dream in one of the slums of Kolkata.The son sees the "artist" in the father long before anyone does and its the "artist" in Bangshi that strives to survive in a world bereft of appreciation and recognition for the right man. Bangshi is part of a group of "artists" which include a typical wedding baraati band where his friend Jafar (Mir Afsar Ali) plays the violin and someone through whose eyes we see a lot of the film unfold at times...he observes and tries to balance. He tries to bring sanity in a world bereft of it...a world driven almost insane by power materialism and superficiality...in a world which mirror poverty of spirit and soul among the rich as compared to the richness of love, laughter and giving among the slum dwellers
I am not here to tell the tale...but to just to share my thoughts on the film...one that moved me after a long long time...
I am not here to tell the tale...but to just to share my thoughts on the film...one that moved me after a long long time...
This film left a mark on me...where thoughts ran wild with every scene every dialogue and every emotion that was portrayed. The actors, each and everyone had a uniqueness that made them stand out in the crowd...they were people as if we knew and yet didn't...characters of flesh and blood who walked home with you after you left the theater...
Bongshi...the name itself...a man who plays his life out like the musical strains from a flute..painful, soulful and calm...knowing how to blend in or stand out...never mocking life even when it makes a mockery of itself. The innocence of his laughter, the glimmer in his eyes even when all seems lost...the charade which is a profession and the games he plays in his mind...the way he has in all the austerity brought tradition and true values to his son...
Nimua...a 10 year old who life had moulded...who hasn't lost his childhood yet the harsh realities of everyday struggles has matured...who knows his father to be the best that anyone can have and who sees the struggle and doesn't deny reality...and who is a "chaplin" for his dad...when he puts up the charades and tries to make his father...his world...his life...laugh through tears...
Jafar...a man who has so much anger within and yet so much tolerance...he is a man who has accepted fate and not afraid to take chances...he is there to string together pieces of a broken dream...he isn't a man who has given up, he isn't a man who wishes to give in....yet he is a man who also knows the boundaries that life draws and the courtyard where people like him will be left out or brought in to be crushed to bits...
There is a beauty in the cruelty and harshness that plays out...What also play out beautifully in the story are the ironies of poverty and materialism...where egos and insecurities take hold at a level of disparity and somewhere then there is a parity as just humans...where a man of power is actually engulfed in insecurities and tries to disqualify Bongshi and his talent...and at this point what the story questions are poignant notions of guilt and power...
The scenes unfold each with their own grandeur...with their own backdrop...and in many ways the film almost feels like a play on stage...each character cast exquisitely in their roles... chiseled so to say in their intricacies of emotions...and the song "Pata Jhara Brishti" seems to epitomize it all...
The role of the "teacher didi" who belongs and yet doesnt....who sees the world of the slum as an insider and yet an outsider...the quiet admiration and maybe love of Bonghsi for her...the softness of acceptance of whatever she says...the embarrassment of failure Bongshi feels in front of her and yet the pride of the father that shows off...all balance finely as if on a tight rope...where at any moment there can be a fall...and all the while Bongshi is aware of the rope he is walking...
I could go on about the film....each scene perhaps requires a page by itself...
Its a film that leaves you wondering whether you will find them all really living their lives if you do happen to visit the same slum in Kolkata...
What does leave a bit wanting is the end...where there is a sudden winding up of the storyline...after a scene that touches the very core....yet perhaps that's where Chaplin succeeds...in a longing for the "What if" in a longing for the " if only" and a longing for the "perhaps happily ever after " or "perhaps not..."
Nimua...a 10 year old who life had moulded...who hasn't lost his childhood yet the harsh realities of everyday struggles has matured...who knows his father to be the best that anyone can have and who sees the struggle and doesn't deny reality...and who is a "chaplin" for his dad...when he puts up the charades and tries to make his father...his world...his life...laugh through tears...
Jafar...a man who has so much anger within and yet so much tolerance...he is a man who has accepted fate and not afraid to take chances...he is there to string together pieces of a broken dream...he isn't a man who has given up, he isn't a man who wishes to give in....yet he is a man who also knows the boundaries that life draws and the courtyard where people like him will be left out or brought in to be crushed to bits...
There is a beauty in the cruelty and harshness that plays out...What also play out beautifully in the story are the ironies of poverty and materialism...where egos and insecurities take hold at a level of disparity and somewhere then there is a parity as just humans...where a man of power is actually engulfed in insecurities and tries to disqualify Bongshi and his talent...and at this point what the story questions are poignant notions of guilt and power...
The scenes unfold each with their own grandeur...with their own backdrop...and in many ways the film almost feels like a play on stage...each character cast exquisitely in their roles... chiseled so to say in their intricacies of emotions...and the song "Pata Jhara Brishti" seems to epitomize it all...
The role of the "teacher didi" who belongs and yet doesnt....who sees the world of the slum as an insider and yet an outsider...the quiet admiration and maybe love of Bonghsi for her...the softness of acceptance of whatever she says...the embarrassment of failure Bongshi feels in front of her and yet the pride of the father that shows off...all balance finely as if on a tight rope...where at any moment there can be a fall...and all the while Bongshi is aware of the rope he is walking...
I could go on about the film....each scene perhaps requires a page by itself...
Its a film that leaves you wondering whether you will find them all really living their lives if you do happen to visit the same slum in Kolkata...
What does leave a bit wanting is the end...where there is a sudden winding up of the storyline...after a scene that touches the very core....yet perhaps that's where Chaplin succeeds...in a longing for the "What if" in a longing for the " if only" and a longing for the "perhaps happily ever after " or "perhaps not..."
