Synopsis
1920s India. Bishwambhar Roy (Chhabi Biswas)
is the last in a line of zamindars who flourished
in Bengal in the 19th century. However,
their glorious past is long gone and Roy’s
fortunes too are fast running out as he
struggles to keep with the lifestyle of
his ancestors by pawning the family jewels
and to be up on his rich, upstart neighbour
Mahim Ganguly (Gangapada Basu). For years
now Roy has precious little to do and has
only one passion – holding extravagant
musical performances in his opulent music
room, flaunting whatever little remains
of his wealth. Following the death of his
wife and son in a storm, Roy withdraws onto
complete seclusion. And when Ganguly invites
him for a musical evening, he decides to
upstage him with a grander concert that
very evening. At the end of the concert
he gives the artist his last gold coin.
Eventually he rides off on his horse to
his death…
The film
Jalsaghar is Ray’s
critique of a decadent colonial feudalism
that was prevalent in nineteenth century
Bengal and is perhaps Ray’s most evocative
film, the Apu trilogy notwithstanding. The
film, portraying the end of an era where
feudal elite reclined amid silk cushions,
smoking hookahs and drinking and patronizing
the arts, is often compared to Guru
Dutt’s masterpiece Sahib
Bibi aur Ghulam (1962) but to be fair
both films have their separate identities.
 The
film, examining the age-old conflict between
the landed nobility and the unpedigreed
rich, between those who dwell in the past
and those who embrace the future, is based
on Tarashankar Bandopadhyay’s stories
Rabari and Jalsaghar.
Wanting a change from the rural setting
of his first two films Pather
Panchali (1955) and Aparajito
(1956), Ray made the satirical fantasy
Paras Pathar (1957) and subsequently
opted for this King Lear like tragedy before
completing the Apu trilogy with Apur
Sansar (1959). The film was shot on
the property of an actual zamindar at Nimita
near the river Padma on the current border
between India and Bangladesh and coincidentally
the novelist had based his story on this
very family!
While most of the film was shot on location,
the key location of the music room however
was a set constructed specially for the
film as the original music room was not
impressive enough. The highlight of the
film are undoubtedly the three concert scenes
with the appearance of leading Indian classical
musicians and dancers like Begum Akhtar,
Roshan Kumari, Waheed Khan and Shehnai maestro
Ustad Bismillah Khan. But there was also
a tragic aside to this. Since the set required
overhead crane shots, a crane was hired
for the shoot and at the end of its hire
period as it was being loaded on to the
truck it came crashing down killing one
coolie and crippling another for life.
Though Ray said in hindsight that the subject
was beyond his scope, right from the prologue,
the film is full of little details that
highlight Ray’s astute observation.
The insect in the glass, the joy of an elephant
being bathed in the river, the joy of the
servants reopening the dusty music room,
the way the chandelier reflects Huzur's
states of mind, the way when the servant
sprinkles the guests with scent he adds
an extra contemptuous shake for Mahim. As
is the case with Ray, often the symbolism
is direct but used to great effect –
shots of rains announcing death, a decaying
palace, the neighbour’s truck kicking
up dust to obscure the patriarch’s
view of his elephant, the spider crawling
over the ancestral picture and the upturned
boat at the end of the patriarch’s
life.
The life and soul of the film is undoubtedly
Chhabi
Biswas as the patriarch. Jalsahgar is
undoubtedly his most memorable screen performance.
As the zamindar whose passion for staging
lavish musical entertainments brings about
his ruin, he towers through every scene
that he is in and shows exactly why he was
such a favourite of Ray with whom he also
worked in Devi (1960) and Kanchenjunga
(1962). In fact Ray admitted that after
Biswas’s demise in 1962, he has not
written a single male middle-aged part that
called for a high degree of professional
talent. Playing opposite him perfectly as
the crude and vulgar neighbour is Gangapada
Basu. The other actors lend perfect support.
Jalsaghar is superbly enhanced
by the evocative camerawork by Subrata
Mitra who is regarded as perhaps the
greatest ever Indian cinematographer. It
was Mitra who revolutionized prevailing
aesthetics in Indian Cinema with innovations
designed to make lighting in Indian more
realistic and poetic. Special mention must
also be made of Ustad Vilayat Khan’s
rousing music score and the splendid art
direction by Bansi
Changragupta, in particular the stunning
mirrored dancing hall set.
A great film by a great filmmaker…
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