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| Prosenjit at the premiere of 'Khela'.
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If one accepts that Rituparno Ghosh is a self-made director, it is evident that he worships his creator—from whatever he writes and does these days. How otherwise does one interpret the lines that come in his note on Khela, his latest film—Chobir nayika eka eka boshe boshe bishonnomone gungun korche Robi Thakur—e jano boro chena chobi. Bangla cinemar itihaas cherei dilam, khod Rituparno Ghosher chobitei emonta hameshai dekha jaye—which, when translated into Bengali, goes like this—“the film’s heroine, sitting alone with a heavy heart, is softly humming a Tagore song—this is a very common scene not just in Bengali films through the ages but even in most Rituparno Ghosh films”.
One is wide-eyed at the level of self-appreciation inherent in these lines and the subtle suggestion that Rituparno Ghosh is a benchmark. True, he is already 12 films old and is a brand by himself, and has been the only Bengali director to have worked with almost any out-of-job or just-upcoming Bollywood star. But is that enough reason to back up what he tries to insinuate?
And that brings us to the second point. Why use a Manisha Koirala, place her in a role that could have been done by anybody from Tollygunge, and then dub her voice with an Ananya Chatterjee? Just to use yet another Bollywood star? However, it goes to Manisha’s and Ananya’s credit that they have together pulled off the concoction called Sheela in the film, pretty well.
Now, Prosenjit. It was Ghosh who gave the superstar of rural Bengal a chance to prove his mettle among the Nandan crowd. That was during Unishe April—where he played the role of Debashree’s boyfriend. He made a return with a bigger role in Chokher Bali, made an impact through his silent manouevres in Dosar, and is there in Sunglass, Last Lear and Shob Charitro Kalponik. But it is in Khela that he gets a whole Rituparno Ghosh film to himself. And he tries his best. Actually, Prosenjit is a hard working actor, and he tries his best to deliver what the director wants. Rituparno makes him underact—which is a trademark in all RG films. And he does it to the best of his ability.
In fact, everybody in 'Khela' underacts. They try to be normal. Raima Sen does and so do Manisha Koirala, Prasenjit, and Shankar Chakraborty. They all try “to behave”. But the person who actually succeeds in behaving is Akashneel Dutta Mukherjee, the boy who plays the character of Aviroop in the film: Raja (Prosenjit) kidnaps the boy to cast him in the lead of Raja’s film, Nalak. That sounds too contorted because Khela is a film within a film, and has been touted as an on-the-road movie.
However, though there are more outdoors here than the typical Rituparno film generally has, one can safely say that director has clearly grappled with the genre—if that was at all something he was trying to get at. After all, his idol, Satyajit Ray, had made a number of them—Nayak, Aparajito, not to speak of the Feluda movies. The problem is, a road movie is peopled with a motley band of characters, each of whom encounters a revelation and the viewer is met with unpredictable situations. It’s like being on a journey, with the novelty of surprises as a topping. In Khela, the viewer gets to meet a maximum of three to four characters—Raja, Aviroop, Sheela and Anjali, and they are all predictable. In fact, Ghosh has actually been successful in making a “closet movie” on the road. Perhaps, that’s the reason he has already placed himself in the annals of Bengali cinema by his own suggestion. After all, an “on-the-road closet-movie” is definitely a new genre.
Finally, after such knowledge, should you go watch it? Yes, if you have nothing else to do on a lazy Sunday afternoon. You may not carry back anything home but will still enjoy the typical Rituparno flashes—the encounters, realisations, etc. After all, Khela is nothing more than a short story and could have been better made into a telefilm.
In fact, Khela is a very, very well-made telefilm.
Oops! Correction.
Khela is a very well-shot multiplex movie! Well made?
Ummm…
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