Revisiting Ray's Agantuk

Why do some films seem better on the second viewing? Better not just intellectually, but in being able to see the beauty in the film. It is a thrilling "a-ha" moment (and by that I don't mean you start hearing 80s synth-pop in your head.)

It is not unlike listening to a JJ Cale record. All Cale's records sound the same. But some cold winter evening, you will hear a Cale album as if for the first time and get it. It's a zen-like experience. Try it for yourself.

The film in question: Satyajit Ray's Agantuk. The first time I saw it, that aftertaste of "construction" and cleverness lingered. Lofty concepts were being discussed on screen: civilization, progress, humanity. I thought he almost telegraphed us an overtly critical judgement of the modern urban man.

The other problems (or so I felt on the first viewing) were the easy generalizations and abstractions. Here, Mr. Ray takes us out of a specific setting (like Pather Panchali's rural Bengal or Jalsaghar, the Music Room) and places us inside a generic, middle-class living room circa 1991. It could be anywhere, and therfore, it was right in our home. Those characters, those mistrustful characters - those were our families. So suddenly, the abstract became personal. And that upset me too.

The film is shot in three, maybe four locations. Entire sequences are composed like a one-act play: like when Utpal Dutt is grilled by the couple's friend (played by Dhritiman Banerjee). This sequence, fascinating for its love of ideas, left me irritated and feeling incredulous. Could one man really speak to another in that accusatory tone, and that too in a friend's living room? Let's not forget, in our (i.e., India's) acutely status-conscious society, an erudite, scholarly English-speaking person (living in the west) could NEVER be spoken to in that tone.

By the time I had reached the film's end, I knew just what to expect: guilt, regret, forgiveness, Lessons Learned, end of story. The Man's swan-song was certainly not half as great as his stunning debut, I thought to myself.

So I sat down to see it again this weekend and was genuinely surprised by Agantuk's charms. The flaws did not vanish entirely, but the bright spots were really visible this time around.

The three lead actors, Deepanker De, Mamta Shankar and Utpal Dutt, play their roles with subtlety. It's not like the couple are "bad" people (though their behavior towards an "atithi" who is a "devo bhavah" is practically sacrilege.) It's just natural urban mistrust of strangers. Moreover, the characters openly acknowledge their own paranoia and feelings of fear. If the two of them are unwilling to share their love (even though Mamta Shankar's character yearns for an uncle), the stranger is more than willing to shower it on everyone in the household. But what makes him more than a two dimensional character is his acknowledgement of the couple's mistrust. He can clearly see their discomfort.

However, the real beauty of Mr. Ray's screenplay is his handling of the character arc (if I may use that Hollywood cliche.) Even before the Grand Moral is taught, Mamta Shankar's character realizes her mistake. She repents. The resolution is tragic, but not bitter.

I don't believe life hands us That One Good Lesson in ten convenient steps. Things get messy, relationships go sour, people die and we forever fret over the possibilities of the past. Wisdom is hindsight and of very little use. Mamta and Deepanker are richer and wiser but not necessarily happier.

What about the Stranger? Does he follow his wanderlust and find his bliss? Or is he too forever burdened with riches and wisdom?