La complainte du sentier

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"

I originally saw the Apu trilogy in 1961 in a little theater in Berkley. Sat through a straight showing of all three films and walked out after six hours in awe. It was a defining day in the development of an avid film buff. I have waited three years for the DVDs to be released, and hoped against hope that Criterion would get the rights, but it was not to be. Sony has released an unadorned, Mirchant and Ivory Foundation restoration: but they are finally available. I bought all three of the Trilogy the day they were released, but have been reluctant to put them on. So many of my memories of "great" films have made me wonder what I was on when I saw it to think that was great. Think "Brewster McCloud." My experience of Pather Panchali and the full trilogy was a memory I didn't want diminished in any way. Tonight I came home from work, put the Pather Panchali in and sat totally rapt for the full two hours. The DVD production values and the print quality are really bad in spots, but all that fades as one of the really great art films takes over, and the immersion in the lives behind the film works its magic. Film doesn't have to be an act of corporate commerce: Pather Panchali is living proof that film can be a medium of great art.

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.

The film is certainly a masterpiece. The film is overwhelmingly real and the key element in the movie is the maintenance of this realism. The characters are so true to the ethnic rural-sixties Indian existence that one is compelled to wonder if the film was captured through surveillance cameras.

Pather Panchali, released in 1955, is the first film of director Satyajit Ray's Apu trilogy. The film is a serene and beautiful depiction of a little boy's childhood in the Indian countryside in the 1950s.The film was made on a shoestring budget by a hitherto unknown director. Apart from a seventy-year-old woman who made her name in the 1930s on the stage, none of the cast had ever acted before and many had been plucked from the Indian rurality. In contrast Satyajit Ray completed the trilogy on the behest of the Indian Prime Minister, pointing to the film's cultural impact.

It's a quiet, simple tale, centering on the life of a small family living in a rural village in Bengal. The father, Harihar (Kanu Bannerjee), is a priest and poet who cares more about his writing and spiritual welfare than obtaining wages he is owed. The mother, Sarbojaya (Karuna Bannerjee), worries that her husband's financial laxity will leave her without enough food for her two children, daughter Durga (Uma Das Gupta) and son Apu (Subir Bannerjee). Harihar's family often lives on the edge of poverty, coping with the unkind taunts of their neighbors, the burden of caring for an aging aunt (Chunibala Devi), and the terrible aftermath of a natural catastrophe.

Most of what transpires is shown through the eyes of either Sarbojaya or Durga, and, as a result, we identify most closely with these two. Harihar is absent for more than half of the movie, and, before the penultimate scene, Apu is a mere witness to events, rather than a participant. Until the closing moments, we don't get a sense of the young boy as a fully formed individual, since he's always in someone else's shadow.

The simple story of the Bengali family will definitely stay in my heart for a long time to come. If you haven't seen it yet, what are you waiting for?........

"Pather Panchali", Satyajit Ray's debut film about life in a Bengali village, was the first movie from India to gain wide recognition and acclaim in the west. It is an affecting story of a rural family struggling to deal with poverty and tragedy in their ancestral home. Ray adapted the script from Bibhuti Bihushaw Banerjee's semi-autobiographical novel of the same title and retells it with natural beauty and a quiet perspective. The filmmaker, who came from a literary and artistic background(He was a product of the Indian Renaissance) was interested in the contemporary problems of his country-and he shared with the Neorealist films from Italy- a simple and direct approach to making movies. Ray created ordinary scenes that were incredibly life-like. His films contained very few strains of artifice. He believed that the raw material of cinema was life itself. Ray generally concentrated on small subjects and ordinary people. He favored using non-actors and shooting on location to heighten the realism. He made films in his own style; dignified and subtle; sincere and with a conscience. In "Pather Panchali" (Song of the Little Road") Ray makes superb use of his milieu. The viewer immediately feels the cramped conditions of the families' decaying house and the open-air confines of the surrounding forest. When Ray sends his camera beyond the village, the observer can sense the allure and freedom of the vast fields that spring immodestly from a thin, winding trail. Rays' was a cinema of thought and feeling, in which emotion was deliberately restrained because it is so strong. This restraint adds to the psychological intensity in his work. Nearly all of his films are marked by this remarkable depth of feeling. "Pather Panchali", the first installment of the Apu Trilogy("Aparajito" and "The World of Apu" would follow) depicts a young boy (Apu) exploring his ever-expanding universe with a growing sense of wonder. Ray excelled at showing how children and adolescents confront mystery and joy; sadness and death. The director shows Apu's burgeoning awareness with a masterful use of the long shot. High-angled, distant shots track Apu and his older sister Durga, as they run spiritedly through white-kashed fields. This sense of discovery gives the film it's emotional power. The director's main subject was India-it's customs and culture. It's conflicts between the traditional way of life and the impact and influence of the West. He tried arduously to capture this synthesis between western ideas and traditional Hindu values. His concern for human problems and not issues of national politics gave his films universal appeal. "Pather Panchali" delineates the small joys and acute sorrows of a poor Indian family. It is an endearing testament that poverty does not nullify love and that even the most afflicted person can find some modest pleasures in their world. The film's indigenous sound track is vital to Ray's story of ancestral limitations. Twanging ektaras, wailing tarshehnais and six-stringed sitars resound liberally throughout the movie. It would be difficult to imagine "Pather Panchali" without it's memorable score. Satyajit Ray was an unpretentious filmmaker. He was genuinely uninterested in commercial considerations. His films were life-affirming, authentic and honest; gentle and poetic- truthful observations on human behavior that employed simple but strong themes. Ray's unadorned style of film-making was intimate, probing, and revealing. (Possible spoiler) The final scene shows the grieving family leaving their home in an ox-driven carriage to begin a new life. A trailing camera in medium close-up captures a compelling mixture of emotions on their faces. Expressions of pain and resolution; hope and despair; the future and the past. A seemingly simple yet unmistakably powerful scene that typifies Satyajit Ray's profound cinema. A cinema of gentle but deep observation, understanding and unabashed love of the human race.