Jalsaghar

This was seen in the monthly Foreign Film Series in a society for retired university (KU) peeps. This 1958 story is remarkably subtle, about the advancing age and declining wealth of a higher caste Indian man, a Zamindar (landlord), whose income from his inherited lands is dropping from the previous levels of his wealthy ancestors because increasing river floods have lessened his rentable property and income. He's unable to adjust his manner of living to either that change or simultaneous changes in the Indian economy that lead to new economic benefits and social mobility for many in lower castes. He's especially irritated at his nouveau riche lower caste new next door neighbor whose income comes from money lending rather than through inherited property and wealth; he engages in expensive rival concerts which he cannot truly afford and these leave him even poorer. Through two extended flashbacks we learn he had been married and had a son (16? 18?); both wife and son died together on a trip. So he's alone for many years. While Indian music is his primary comfort (played in "the music room" of his palatial home), he also begins to use it as his primary club against his "upstart" neighbor. As he ages we see his memory decline, e.g., asking one of his two remaining servants, "What month is this?" before he presents one last concert for invited guests (and to belittle his rival, his lower caste neighbor, an included guest) before he then embarks on an activity which leads to his death. Great examples of Indian music (but the closed captions on the DVD we saw had white type/lettering which sometimes was not very legible against its background). The movie also very subtly raises the question -- to what extent is this person (one's self or relative or friend) going through parallel sequences in the getting old process?

When I first saw the Music Room in a big screen at the Ice-skating Ring Calcutta, I found it to be slow but intriguing. Since then whenever I watched this film, I felt I rediscovered it once again. When I found that the Criterion Collection has released the DVD version, I didn't think twice to buy it from Amazon though the price is more than sum total of all the Satyajit DVD/VCDs I have ever purchased. With a superb digital restoration, it is an audio-visual pleasure to watch the khayal recital in the backdrop of the looming disaster, the Kathak performance, tinkling sound of the chandelier, the night scene and so on. Analysis of the film by the French television channel and by Andrew Robinson is a delightful bonus. What a love and perfection that have gone in to restore this masterpiece from oblivion in this heritage apathetic country!

Jalsaghar (aka "The Music Room") is a 1958 drama film directed by master Indian filmmaker Satyajit Ray. Based on a short story of the same name by Bangla writer Tarashankar Bandopadhyay, Jalsaghar presents the tale of decline of a feudal lord in the pre-independence India. Jalsaghar stars veteran Bangla actor Chhabi Biswas in the lead role of Huzur Biswambhar Roy. Huzur is the last of Zamindars—a dying breed of landlords who once formed the very basis of the Indian Feudal System. Huzur's glory days are over but his sense of superiority remains intact. He lives in the past neither acknowledging the present nor anticipating the future. He continues to be a servant of his refined tastes even as his coffers are getting empty.

Jalsaghar was Ray's fourth film which he made after the commercial failure of Aparijito—the finally film in Ray's much acclaimed "The Apu Trilogy". Ray had initially thought of making a commercial film, based on some popular work of literature, which would incorporate popular Indian music. But, what eventually transpired was something that was totally different. It was more of an art-house work than a commercial movie that Ray had initially intended to make. The movie failed to do well at the Indian box-office. But, it received both critical and financial success in Europe and the US and helped Ray earn international reputation. The music of Jalsaghar was written by the Indian composer and sitar maestro Ustad Vilayat Ali Khan who was encouraged by Ray to compose musical pieces that would gel well with the movie's dark and gloomy tone. The movie's melancholic musical composition and sombre art direction—the sublime use of mirrors, chandeliers, etc.—gives it a Gothic feel in the vein of American Film-Noir films of the '40s and '50s.

In Jalsaghar, Ray highlights the perpetual conflict of tradition versus modernity while simultaneously examining the Indian caste system. Jalsaghar is a sublime work of cinema that, having stood the test of time for over five decades, continues to inspire the budding filmmakers as well as enthrall the audiences worldwide. Jalsaghar is widely regarded as Satyajit Ray's most evocative film. It serves to be a great means of getting acquainted with Ray's oeuvre. Jalsaghar with its universal motifs is also the most accessible of Ray's films, especially for foreign viewers. Jalsaghar is not a movie that would woo a casual viewer. Restless viewers should best stay away from it. But, a patient viewer would be thoroughly rewarded. The movie owing to its slow pace may pose impediments to the uninitiated viewer. Jalsaghar is a deeply thought-provoking work of cinema that demands multiple viewings. The movie is a must watch for every student of cinema. Jalsaghar.is an essential watch for all Satyajit Ray fans as well as those who understand and appreciate intelligent cinema. 10/10

A more in-depth review of the film can be read at:

http://www.apotpourriofvestiges.com/

Good heavens! This is about as far from Bollywood movies (cheesy musicals) as one could get. Jalsaghar is a poignant rendering of social transition at the personal level -- the indigent aristocrat whose delusive and self-destructive obsession with bringing his music room back to life shields him from the reality of his family's economic and social collapse, and indeed hastens it; the showy nouveau-riche neighbor who embodies the rise of a new social order based on economic achievement rather than aristocratic roots and inherited wealth. There are parallels to Chekhov and Faulkner (Snopeses and Sartorises). The black and white images (the white horse!) are stunning. I saw this film in the 1980s, and remember it more clearly than the movie I saw last night. It is truly a classic.

Beautifully shot and with a great soundtrack, but a rather dreary story, which is a critique of idle members of the traditional zamindar (aristocrat) class, a celebration of traditional Indian music, and a depiction of the end of an era. In the film, a damn fool of a middle-aged man (Chhabi Biswas) squanders his family fortune as the portraits of four generations of his ancestors look on in his music room, where he hosts large groups of friends to lavish performances despite his dwindling funds. He likes lolling about, smoking a hookah and drinking cognac, and it's clear he likes the music as well, but what he likes even more is the prestige and status that he has, and lording it over one of his neighbors he views (and treats) as inferior.

I loved seeing and hearing the various musical instruments, the wonderful vocalizations, and the performances - especially that dancer towards the end - they were something special. The rest of it had meaning, but was less compelling for me, despite all the craft and attention to detail director Satyajit Ray put in. It would have been more interesting had we had gotten more depth and insight into some of the other characters. Certainly worth watching though.