Five Chapters, One lifetime!

       “For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love,

                      Or chide my palsy, or my gout,

                  My five gray hairs, or ruined fortune flout,

                     With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve”

Priyanshu and Dia in Paanch Adhyay

At one point in the movie, Arindam (Priyanshu Chatterjee) asks his wife Ishita (Dia Mirza), “is that you?” He was referring to the perfume she had used, which somehow seemed to him new and ‘strong’. But the essence of the choric question lies in the fact that the perfume is just a pretext; we fail to know the person next to us, even years after staying together. Pratim D. Gupta’s debut shines in the eloquence of sublime silence. Silence, which builds up the tension between the married couple and silence that is beautiful. A promising plot, subtle literary angles, minimalistic use of characters, musical rhapsodies, commendable cinematography and a crafted finesse make Paanch Adhyay a lyrical montage of sounds, sights and colours, not lacking an iota of soul in this modern tragedy.

Divided into five chapters, each named after a Tagore song, Sedin dujone, Ogo bideshini, Amar e path, Amar raat pohalo and Tomay notun kore pabo bole, the film has traces of Tagoreana pervading throughout the film. Arindam even goes on to make Charukatha, his take on Charulata. The film excels in its leit-motif of literary angles. It opens with the beautiful words from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind:  “Clementine: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon. Joel: I know. Clementine: What do we do? Joel: Enjoy it”, and the director opens up a world of a Clementine and Joel, who try hard to erase and evade their predicament, but end up enjoying the little moment of togetherness, that has been allotted to them. One of the finest citations has been that of the Black Swan. As Ranjabati (Sampurna), falters in her first shot, as she fails to portray her passion for her lover in the new version of Charukatha with her Black Swan make-up, Arindam, her director emerges as Thomas Leroy, albeit in a new avatar, to arouse the beloved in her. Ishita reading Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway and Arindam buying a copy of the same in the final frame of the film, subliminally touches upon the crux of the entire story. The short glimpse of the poster of the film Sweet Rush, the idea of Beauty and Truth from Robert Frost's The Rose Family and Priyanshu’s Arindam named after one of the best screen names of Uttam Kumar in Satyajit Ray’s Nayak speak of the director’s penchant for ‘intertextuality’, notwithstanding his long career as a renowned film critic. Paanch Adhyay excels in creating a poem through the references and the adept use of symbolism.

Gupta proves that a film can thrive only with its content, and its technical aspects. Moreover, I don’t remember a single film in the recent past that has only two major characters pulling off the entire film only through their nuanced performances. Priyanshu Chatterjee and Dia Mirza could not have asked for meatier and meaningful roles. A film does not need big names to attract audience and the director uses his available resources at his best in this Kaustuv Roy production. Priyanshu captures Arindam’s dilemma, his pains and his angst in his beautiful eyes. Dia Mirza delivers her best performance. The moment Ishita reveals her secret to Arindam is perhaps one of the finest performances of Mirza, elegant and graceful, effortless yet ethereal. Her Bengali diction is way better than many of her Bollywood counterparts.

Apart from the sensitive story (Pratim D. Gupta) aided by heart-wrenching performances, Paanch Adhyay needs to be praised for its music and its magical cinematography. Santanu Moitra’s harmony reaches its apotheosis in Subha Mudgal and Swanand Kirkire’s renditions of Ure Jay and Uda Jaye placed strategically in the second and the third chapters of the film, capturing the glorified solitude and loneliness of Arindam and Ishita. Agantuk and Baavri are equally impressive. Ananda Chakroborty, the DOP of the film, weaves a magical saga through his sepia tones and aesthetic use of gray shades keeping the ‘tension’ taut.

Bengalees can’t do without either Tagore or Satyajit Ray, and audience today, can’t take the ‘tension’ for too long. Such comments from Hrishi da (Soumitro Chatterjee in a cameo) echo the sources of inspiration for Gupta’s debut.  Paanch Adhyay definitely meanders around a ‘Tagoreana and a Ray gharana that is so deep rooted that one cannot ignore the traces; and the 113 minutes  of the film is an ode to Arghakamal Mitra’s editing skills.

A stranger, an agantuk becomes a dosar for a life time. Yet it takes a lifetime to know the person on whom you “had once built an absolute trust”, bringing home the reality that even a lifetime is not enough. Seize the day, enjoy every moment of togetherness, no matter what trials you have to go through. Paanch Adhyay is a tragic tale of an urban relationship with an uncanny turn of fate that makes you count every moment of your life. It makes you want to shout to the world Dohai toder ektuku chup kor, Bhalobasibare amare de obosor.