Haunted!

Bengal is haunted (no pun intended) and how?

Of late, Bengali cinema has been fascinated with the world of spirits and ghosts. After the immense success of Bhooter Bhobishyot (The Future of Ghosts) and Jekhane Bhooter Bhoy (Where There Is A Fear Of Ghosts), the latest ghost to hit the big screen comes not alone but with a jewellery box, Goynar Baksho.

Aparna Sen's latest is an adaptation of Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay's Rashmonir Sonadana. Alike her last presentation, this one too leaves a lot to be expected. Overt feminist messages and an abrupt ending in Calcutta '71 ruins what could have otherwise been an entertainer.  

The story of an old aunt who passes away in her sleep and never leaves the house and a daughter-in-law who, with the guidance and help, of the aunt's spirit, brings back the lost legacy of the family, talks of a warm friendship and camaraderie between two generations and two worlds. Barring a few adult scenes (judging by the fact that a lot of families went to watch the film with young children who could not stop asking questions), Goynar Baksho could have been categorized as a family entertainer. What ruins the entertainment are the last 20 minutes of the movie.

The narrator of the story is the granddaughter of the family. She too can see and communicate with her dead grandmother. But she becomes the voice of Sen's feminist ideals after the main plot is over. It is difficult to understand the need to step into the life of a grown up granddaughter and enter the Calcutta of the 70s. It is also beyond comprehension why the girl delivers her mother's lover's (if he can be called that since it was a one-sided admiration) letters when her parents have a perfectly happy marriage and she is a product of their love.

It is interesting to hear the old aunt mention that women too, like men, have the right to find love outside their marriage. But she speaks more as a victim of social constraints rather than a rebel. Being a child widow, witnessing the death of her lover because he was a servant in the family, and never having experienced the bliss of a man-woman relationship, her preaching is born out of agony and loss than a misplaced notion of woman freedom.

It was fascinating to find out that the last 20 minutes were edited out for the town and village audience. This goes on to prove that these so-called uncivilized people have a better sense of story than their global, city-bred cousins. And the director is very aware of this difference. 

Then why the need for those 20 minutes? Is it to prove to the city audience her 'global' outlook or to speak for women rights?

What could have been a fun, spook ride turned out to be a sermon with an unnecessary epilogue. Only high points were the two songs, touted as Bangla rap, that are thoroughly enjoyable. 

Seems like Sen needs to take a long break from celluloid for we, sure, can't take any more lonely women treaties on the big screen.

Haunted was the experience, indeed!