The Best of Satyajit Ray
In the film Home and the World, it’s said of one protagonist that the less you know him the more you like him: the opposite is true of Satyajit Ray. I can't do justice to the wisdom and quiet integrity, the intellectual and emotional depth of his films. He was a polymath; illustrator, novelist, film critic, screenwriter, set and costume designer, composer, editor as well as director. Grounded but eclectic and willing to experiment, he served his films without flashy, self-glorifying gimmicks and mannerisms. While every bit an auteur, from the outset he was an unobtrusive one- which in today’s shallow age may even count against him. His debut Pather Panchali (has there ever been a better?) shows a rare maturity.
Having Anglophile tendencies, he knew well and appreciated many aspects of Western culture while also able to be critical of it- justifiably and with steely authority rather than spiteful rancour- and was still deeply immersed in the riches of his own Bengali tradition, for instance the great literary figure Rabindranath Tagore. He made his films first and foremost for Bengalis, considering success abroad a bonus.
There were few hang-ups in Ray’s attitude to filming- not only in the lack of bombast, egotism and overly precious approach (he is said, maybe not a huge exaggeration, to have completed filming Kanchenjungha while another film crew was awaiting the sun!), but also in his willingness to improvise. He dissected social structures and customs, cultural traditions and materialism, not with bombs or blunderbuss but with a scalpel, and his films show him equally at ease depicting the daily struggles of the poor as the foibles and interactions of the leisured classes. As has been said of Tagore, he had a remarkable capacity to empathise with people in different situations.
There is a considerable amount of dialogue in Ray’s films- a trap for certain critics who perceive this as somehow less cinematic, for he also shows rather than merely says; the sounds and visuals can underpin but also add layers of meaning or have us question the words. His oeuvre consists of “organic cohesion”, technique serving the source material, rather than vice versa. In his own quiet way, and more so than certain touted directors with conspicuous auteurist styles (or mannerisms), Ray is the antithesis of Hollywood, with its glitz, grandstanding and roller-coaster mentality.
Like other great masters Ozu and Mizoguchi, Ray saw no need to rush to colour; it was for Kanchenjungha, several years after his debut, that he first considered colour best suited to bring out the emotional and social nuances (for instance the significance of an ochre sari) of a day in the mountain resort of Darjeeling.
With actors, whose memories of working with him were overwhelmingly fond, Ray was more a suggestive enabler, a confidence builder, than a demonstrative autocrat. He was comfortable choosing established stars and new discoveries alike. In his use of music, which he composed himself, either in collaboration or from the early 60s alone, he preferred a mix of the Western and local, a range of instruments, with new compositions drawing on elements of existing material rather than standard classics. For set design, he worked closely for many years with his friend Bansi Chandragupta. To Ray, camera movement was mainly a matter of instinct, to suit the situation. The economy of his editing has long been a neglected strength; revisiting Pather Panchali, i marvelled at the previously unnoticed “rightness” of the cutting- helped by “cut in the camera” scene planning- together with the framing.
At the heart of Ray’s world were rounded characters, whose development we follow closely amid changing events and interactions; intricate portraits of individuals and relationships, but equally of environment. For all the stylistic and emotional restraint and grace of his films, he was sincerely concerned about social tensions, injustice and communal suffering and was reproachful of snobbery. When clearly expressing a critical political position there is usually a balancing warmth in his sensitivity to moral and psychological aspects; points are rarely made with a heavy hand or acid cynicism.
Thanks to the nuanced shadings, occasional lyricism, range of knowledge and references, the intimate care taken over relationships, the richness of small details, the timeless humanity and love of nature, we can find new meanings and rewards on further viewings.
~
I strongly recommend Andrew Robinson's book "Satyajit Ray: The Inner Eye" and for those who enjoy Ray's films, the Sri Lankan director Lester James Peries may be of interest
Having Anglophile tendencies, he knew well and appreciated many aspects of Western culture while also able to be critical of it- justifiably and with steely authority rather than spiteful rancour- and was still deeply immersed in the riches of his own Bengali tradition, for instance the great literary figure Rabindranath Tagore. He made his films first and foremost for Bengalis, considering success abroad a bonus.
There were few hang-ups in Ray’s attitude to filming- not only in the lack of bombast, egotism and overly precious approach (he is said, maybe not a huge exaggeration, to have completed filming Kanchenjungha while another film crew was awaiting the sun!), but also in his willingness to improvise. He dissected social structures and customs, cultural traditions and materialism, not with bombs or blunderbuss but with a scalpel, and his films show him equally at ease depicting the daily struggles of the poor as the foibles and interactions of the leisured classes. As has been said of Tagore, he had a remarkable capacity to empathise with people in different situations.
There is a considerable amount of dialogue in Ray’s films- a trap for certain critics who perceive this as somehow less cinematic, for he also shows rather than merely says; the sounds and visuals can underpin but also add layers of meaning or have us question the words. His oeuvre consists of “organic cohesion”, technique serving the source material, rather than vice versa. In his own quiet way, and more so than certain touted directors with conspicuous auteurist styles (or mannerisms), Ray is the antithesis of Hollywood, with its glitz, grandstanding and roller-coaster mentality.
Like other great masters Ozu and Mizoguchi, Ray saw no need to rush to colour; it was for Kanchenjungha, several years after his debut, that he first considered colour best suited to bring out the emotional and social nuances (for instance the significance of an ochre sari) of a day in the mountain resort of Darjeeling.
With actors, whose memories of working with him were overwhelmingly fond, Ray was more a suggestive enabler, a confidence builder, than a demonstrative autocrat. He was comfortable choosing established stars and new discoveries alike. In his use of music, which he composed himself, either in collaboration or from the early 60s alone, he preferred a mix of the Western and local, a range of instruments, with new compositions drawing on elements of existing material rather than standard classics. For set design, he worked closely for many years with his friend Bansi Chandragupta. To Ray, camera movement was mainly a matter of instinct, to suit the situation. The economy of his editing has long been a neglected strength; revisiting Pather Panchali, i marvelled at the previously unnoticed “rightness” of the cutting- helped by “cut in the camera” scene planning- together with the framing.
At the heart of Ray’s world were rounded characters, whose development we follow closely amid changing events and interactions; intricate portraits of individuals and relationships, but equally of environment. For all the stylistic and emotional restraint and grace of his films, he was sincerely concerned about social tensions, injustice and communal suffering and was reproachful of snobbery. When clearly expressing a critical political position there is usually a balancing warmth in his sensitivity to moral and psychological aspects; points are rarely made with a heavy hand or acid cynicism.
Thanks to the nuanced shadings, occasional lyricism, range of knowledge and references, the intimate care taken over relationships, the richness of small details, the timeless humanity and love of nature, we can find new meanings and rewards on further viewings.
~
I strongly recommend Andrew Robinson's book "Satyajit Ray: The Inner Eye" and for those who enjoy Ray's films, the Sri Lankan director Lester James Peries may be of interest
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