Bangladeshi
filmmaker Tareque Masud's Matir Moina (The
Clay Bird) marks a turning point in the history
of Indian cinema because it is the first film
from Bangladesh to be publicly released at Nandan,
Kolkata. The day of its release, July 31, coincided
with the inauguration of the Maitri train that
defines a direct link between India and Bangladesh.
This Kolkata premiere is to be followed by the
film's release in other cities across the country.
Masud is focussed on the theme of the Bangladesh
civil war and its impact on human lives since
1995. His documentaries, Muktir Gaan (Freedom
Song), Muktir Katha (Tales of Freedom)
and Narir Katha (Women and Freedom)
were made with Catherine Masud, his wife, who
co-directs, edits and produces with him. His first
feature film Matir Moina (2002) extends
the logic further, through a fictionalized version
of some slices of his childhood days. The film
won the FIPRESCI Prize at Cannes in 2002.
 "I
do not believe that nothing has been done after
the passing away of the Satyajit
Ray - Ritwik
Ghatak - Mrinal
Sen era in Bengali cinema. Before one jumps
into destructive conclusions, one must remember
that cinema is a product of a post-industrial
society where art has evolved into a mechanically
reproduced means of production for mass consumption.
Its distinctive value partly lies in its divergent
culture-specific nature, unlike traditional cultural
products, which are unique and distinctive. Cinema,
being a post-industrial product tried to accept
the accidentality of art in its initial stages.
But globalization is erasing and eroding the culture-specific
quality of cinema where individuality is lost
and values are for sale in an abstract if not
in a concrete way, and the cinema of Bollywood
is the best example of this commercialization,"
he says.
The Censor Board in Bangladesh had put their
foot firmly down against the public release of
the film. "The Censors accused us of depicting
the Madrassa system in twisted manner. Their argument
was that the film might anger the sentiments of
people in Islamic countries. I refused to accept
their argument and went on appeal against it.
By then, Matir Moina had reached an international
audience. The government of Bangladesh had no
option then but to clear the film for public release.
It then ran to packed theatres like Balaka and
Madhumita in Bangladesh," informs Tareque.
The opens around 1969 and ends in 1971. The building
up of the narrative is centred on a small boy's
growing up in a Bangladesh small-town, with his
father, mother and kid sister. His deeply religious
father, Kazi, sends off Anu, a young boy, to a
strict Islamic school, or Madrassa. As political
divisions in the country intensify, an increasing
split develops between moderate and extremist
forces within the Madrassa, mirroring a growing
divide between the stubborn and confused Kazi
and his increasingly independent wife. Touching
upon themes of religious tolerance, cultural diversity
and the complexity of Islam, Matir Moyna brings
in an universal appeal within a world being torn
apart increasingly by strife and religious fundamentalism.
The multi-layered narrative captures the ambience
of life in a Madrassa more with subtle eloquence
than by any kind of explicit or crude articulation.
On the one hand, one discovers the innocent naïveté
of childhood that brings two boys from different
social levels together in a close bond while on
the other, it also sheds light on how cruel children
can sometimes be to one of their own. At another
level, it probes into the mind of Anu's young
uncle who slowly gets involved in movement despite
Kazi's strong opposition. The stubbornness of
the Kazi leads to the tragic death of Anu's kid
sister. Anu's mother slowly evolves into a firm
person and grows away from her weak husband. The
beautifully controlled climax defines one of the
best films to have been made in Bangladesh in
recent times. Moushumi Bhowmik's musical score
rich with folk songs of Bangladesh placed and
presented in appropriately scripted situations
adds to the quality of the film.
Over the 98 minutes of screening time, Matir
Moina mesmerizes the audience, sucking it
into the vortex of a hypothetical identification.
Catherine Masud's editing is controlled and her
scissors know just when to place the cut, the
mix or the fade-out with smooth and seamless precision.
Sudheer Palsane and Ranjan Palit's cinematography
is subtle, low profile and therefore, complements
the narrative rather than overshadowing it. Indrajit
Neogi's sound design never jars yet sustains the
naturalness of the ambience. Tareque has mastered
the art handling his child actors who perform
as naturally as if they were picked out of real
life. The same applies to the other actors in
the film.
"The film is autobiographical because it
is based on a part of my own childhood spent in
a Madrassa in Bangladesh where my very strict
father had sent me to study for around eight years.
Memories of the time are carved in my mind. The
time-setting of the film and the part of my childhood
depicted in it coincides with the disturbance
that finally led to the Bangladeshi war of Independence
following West Pakistan's attack on Bengali Muslims
led by General Yahya Khan," Tareque explains.
It is amazing the way he undertakes this inward
journey into himself, the journey back into a
time he is distanced from and yet is able to retain
his perspective and enrich the film with a blend
of subjective involvement and objective distance.
When questioned about this, he modestly sums up
by saying, "It is not possible for me to
speak without emotion about, and in cinema –
my passion. We get blocked by iconisation, which
makes us forget the importance of continuity –
integral to any artistic expression and social
statement, the two basic elements of cinema as
an audiovisual language of art and social concern.
What helped me develop a perspective and a distance
is that was a 30-year gap between the events that
happened and the making of the film. Had I made
it 10 or 15 years ago, my reactions might have
been sharp and strong," he sums up with his
enigmatic smile.
Shoma A Chatterji is
a freelance journalist who specialises in cinema
and gender. She has won the National Award for
Best Writing on Cinema twice. |
