SYNOPSICS
Pather Panchali (1955) is a Bengali movie. Satyajit Ray has directed this movie. Kanu Bannerjee,Karuna Bannerjee,Subir Banerjee,Chunibala Devi are the starring of this movie. It was released in 1955. Pather Panchali (1955) is considered one of the best Drama movie in India and around the world.
The story of a young boy, Apu, and life in his small Indian village. His parents are quite poor - his father Harihar, a writer and poet, gave away the family's fruit orchard to settle his brother's debts. His sister Durga and an old aunt also still lives with them. His mother Sarbojaya bears the brunt of the family's situation. She scrapes by and sells her personal possessions to put food on the table and has to bear the taunts of her neighbors as Durga is always stealing fruit from their orchard. Things get worse when Harihar disappears for five months and Durga falls ill. Even after Harihar returns, the family is left with few alternatives.
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Pather Panchali (1955) Reviews
A Magnificent Movie!
I don't know how even 6.4% of the female voters could have given this movie a 2!!!!! This was Ray's first movie, but his economy of dialog, his synchronization and sympathy with India's rural life is incredible. So little said, yet so much! Apu and Durga following the sweetmeat seller, the scene where they run through a "kash" field....superb, the work of a real artist, a master. The film develops its characters and the atmosphere slowly and resolutely. The narrative builds up to a powerful climax. Ray had an ancient camera while shooting this movie, did it matter? No. His expression and technique was more than sound, although this was a maiden venture. Some critics found(and still find, I might add) the film to be too slow. Satyajit Ray wrote about the slow pace - "The cinematic material dictated a style to me, a very slow rhythm determined by nature, the landscape, the country. The script had to retain some of the rambling quality of the novel because that in itself contained a clue to the authenticity: life in a poor Bengali village does ramble." There you are, if you have not watched this movie, you'll probably missed the greatest movie made on Indian rural life. That's why Akira Kurosawa said of him:"To have not seen the films of Ray is to have lived in the world without ever having seen the moon and the sun"
Possibly the best film ever made about childhood
*** WARNING: SPOILERS *** The three films Pather Panchali, Aparajito and Apur Sansar form a trilogy, and, although each holds up well in itself, they are best viewed as a unity. Speaking on a purely personal note, I know of no greater achievement in cinema, and have certainly seen nothing that moves me more profoundly. The twin themes of these films are progress and loss. The former implies the latter, and both are, in a sense, inevitable. This is, as all summaries must be, an over-simplification. Certainly, the loss of childhood, of innocence, of parents, is universal to the human condition. Growing up, progressing from childhood to maturity, is similarly inevitable. But Apu wills his progress: at least, he wills its direction. He always grapples with life, painful though it is. Only once, after the death of his wife (in the third film of the trilogy), does he turn his back upon life, but this crisis is temporary: the trilogy ends with Apu once again facing the future willingly, uncertain though it is. It is this refusal to turn one's back, to stagnate, this refusal to renounce, that forms the backbone of this trilogy, and gives it a unity throughout its often disparate episodes. The central character of these films, Apu, always aspires towards becoming something greater, other than what he is. He wants to educate himself. This, in a western context, appears somewhat obvious, but, given Apu's background, education is something to strive towards, to struggle for; and Apu, despite great temptation, never abandons this struggle. It is not that he sees education as a means towards wealth or power: this is not, after all, anything so crude as a rags to riches story. But he does want to outgrow the village, to understand, and come to terms with life and the larger world outside. And in this he is, as is suggested by the title of the second film, aparajito, undefeated. Over the three films, we see Apu progress from childhood to, perhaps, his early thirties. In this progression, we see his character develop through experience. This experience is often painful, and Apu is not always capable of rising above the pain. Perhaps no other film has depicted with such a terrible intensity the emotional pain of loss; but the vision, ultimately, is far from tragic. The last film - Apur Sansar - actually ends with a sense of joy. The joy is by no means unqualified: it has been hard won, and we, the audience, recognize its fragility. But it is, nonetheless, exhilarating. Pather Panchali, the first of the trilogy, takes place some time early in the 20th century, and covers the years of Apu's early childhood. We see him born into a poverty-stricken family in rural Bengal. Later, we see Apu at play with his sister, Durga; we see him excited by the travelling players; we observe the uncomprehending wonder of Apu and Durga as they see a train for the first time. We are shown all those events of childhood that are apparently trivial, but which nonetheless shape the adult personality. Apu's mother Sarbojaya (the superb Karuna Banerjee), is understandably harassed, trying to keep her family clothed and fed. The father, Harihar, is good-natured, other-worldly, and quite unpragmatic. With the family lives an aged aunt, Indir. She is a pathetic figure, helplessly eking out a meagre existence on the charity of those who barely have enough for themselves, and relying on Durga - with whom she has a close relationship - to supplement her inadequate diet with stolen fruit. Aware of her status, Indir generally speaks and acts in an ingratiating and conciliatory manner; but there is a repressed rage within her that bursts out on occasion. It is a magnificent performance from the aged actress Chunibala Devi. Sarbojaya has no patience with this old woman, and takes little trouble to hide the fact that she is unwanted. This is not out of deliberate cruelty, or indifference: it is simply that looking after her own immediate family is burden enough. The old woman, desparately trying to retain the last vestiges of her dignity, is forever storming out, attempting to find a roof to shelter under from some other relative. But she keeps returning: even a hostile roof, after all, is preferrable to none. It is a picture of desperation which moves the heart beyond mere pity. There is one particularly heart-rending scene where she sits in the dark singing of death in her old, cracked voice. This first part of the trilogy ends in tragedy - Durga's death - and I know of nothing in cinema that delivers so powerful an emotional punch. It took me quite unawares at first viewing, and even on repeated viewings, it moves me like nothing else I have seen. Particularly unforgettable is Apu's final, quiet act of love for his dead sister, which really needs to be seen in its proper dramatic context to be appreciated. It is the end of a chapter in the family's life, and they move on. The sense of loss is overwhelming. This is perhaps the best film ever made about childhood. I watch the entire trilogy about once every year, and wonder afresh at what cinema, at its best, is capable of achieving.
Absolutely Perfect. One of the best films ever made. 10/10
It is a little known fact that India produces more films per year than any other country. The reason that most people don't know that is because their films do not generally appeal to us, and we would see them as oddities suspended in their own culture. Possibly they'd be amusing or interesting to watch, but they would probably be hard to enjoy (to demonstrate the difference in taste, Roger Ebert attended an Indian film festival a year or two ago, and when he questioned its director what American film did the best business over there, he answered that the movie _Baby's Day Out_, which is basically like one of those Popeye cartoons where Sweet-Pea wanders through construction sights blindly, except extended to 90 minutes, had theaters packed in India all throughout its run; the film bombed completely in the US). Tastes differ. Humanity does not. This is proved to the utmost in Ray's masterful _Pather Panchali_. This film has got to be the best ever made about, well, life in general. It reminded me a lot of a Chinese film, Zhang Yimou's _To Live_, which was good, but its situations finally seemed a bit contrived. _Pather Panchali_ feels as real as life itself. To be sure, it contains great moments of sadness, but, for the most part, it concentrates on the beauty of the world around us. One of the major characters is this ancient woman, maybe even in her nineties. She is hunched over, has no teeth, and has crooked eyes. But Ray makes her form beautiful. He often finds characters with exaggerated and odd features. And there is nothing more beautiful in this world than the love between members of a family, and Ray revels in this. The relationship between the brother and sister is heartstoppingly beautiful. I could not say anything bad about this film. But there is one thing I would like to see: a DVD version of this film, and indeed of each of the films of the Apu Trilogy, and only Criterion could do this effectively, which is kind of disappointing, since I know a major film company already owns its rights and would probably never give them up without huge pay; a DVD version with scholarly commentary. Hindu symbology is present in a large quantity in this film, along with several Hindi ceremonies. Of course, I loved seeing this. I am not completely unfamiliar with the culture, so I was able to catch a little, but there is so much I don't know. A commentary track on a DVD would help me understand the film better, and thus love it even more.
My favorite movie of all time.
I've been asked what my favorite film of all time is. It's a silly question, and the answer might have changed over the years. But I am certain now. It is "Pather Panchali," completed by Satyajit Ray in 1955. Strange that I would settle on an Indian film, since I have specialized all my life in Italian movies and think I know a good deal about them. But no, "Pather Panchali," spoken in Bengali and made on a budget that couldn't buy a coffee break on a major production anywhere today, is my favorite film. Why? Oh, goodness...because of its poetry, its humanity, its timeless and haunting lyric beauty, its imagery, its powerful portrayal of a family and a culture. I first saw it when I was a senior in high school. I went to the Avon in Providence, where it played for a week in 1959. Overwhelmed, I went three or four times that week. I told people about it but nobody seemed interested. And it's futile even now to promote this film among folks who only respond to graphic action, moronic one-liner comedies, thundering vacuous soundtracks, the vapid melodrama of snakes on planes. "Pather Panchali" means "Song of the Road," and was the first film by its director, made as a total labor of love. He began in 1952 in 16mm, then got financing from the Bengal government to complete the work in 35mm. It took four years, and was shown to great acclaim at Cannes, where it won one of the top awards. It was a radical departure from Indian film convention which has characters breaking out into song every ten minutes, regardless of the story. The movie was the first of a trilogy Ray completed in a few years. "The Apu Trilogy" is about the life of an idealistic hero. "Pather Panchali" deals with the youth of Apu and his impulsive sister Durga, and the travails of his Brahmin priest father and his worrying mother in the midst of crushing poverty. The second and third parts are "Aparajito" and "The World of Apu." All these classics are highly acclaimed masterpieces and very much liked by discriminating audiences. "Pather Panchali" turns everyday childhood occurrences into wondrous events, whether it is brother and sister crossing the fields filled with white feathery rushes to see a train in the distance, a pursuit of the candy man, a Hindu feast, the wonders of the natural world, an ancient aunt telling bedtime stories to children. Death interrupts the family twice, taking away young Durga too. The scene in which the long-absent father returns to learn of the death of his daughter is a lacerating wail from the beyond. Apu's concealing forever the suddenly-learned truth of a secret theft by his sister is a moment, once seen, can never be forgotten. In sadness, mother, father, young son move away. The film ends. Musician-composer Ravi Shankar did the beautiful score. He was a virtual unknown at the time, but I traced down recordings of his music (decades before his legendary Woodstock appearance!) and still listen to them. Ray was influenced by the Italian neo-realists, particularly De Sica in "The Bicycle Thief," which he said bowled him over. In the mid-90s the films of Ray were restored and reissued to great acclaim, and retrospectives took place everywhere. "Pather Panchali" and the rest of the "Apu Trilogy" are available on video or DVD at libraries and retailers and form the nucleus of any collection of world cinema. It is a shining work of art.
What a story!
I have just finished Pather Panchali. To be honest, it took almost two weeks to watch it. Not only interruptions, but the shear poverty of the individuals--the family--is overwhelming. Each member exhibits their poverty and destitution in a different way. My favorite character is Durga, who gives and gives until she reaches the point where she is tired of not receiving. I will forever remember this movie, and I hope to watch the other two parts of the trilogy. I have to have this film in my collection. Movies that make you think and think again, and search your heart for answers that sometimes never come.