“Aparajito” aka “The Unvanquished” (1956)
While the first film was a huge success critically and commercially, its sequel was a disappointment financially, being met in India with some derision as Ray strayed much more from the original source material (Bibhutibhushan Bannerjee‘s novels), especially in the portrayal of Apu relationship to his mother. Here he reaches adolescence and starts going to school in the city after his family moves there. But the film fared much better abroad, winning the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival and lauded by critics from around the world, convincing Ray to conclude the story with a third film. In some ways, this sequel suffers from a common middle chapter problem: There is no real beginning and end (it starts exactly where “Pather Panchali” left off). However, by the time the third film ends, one can’t imagine it all working nearly as well without all of the elements from all three.
“Apur Sansar” aka “The World Of Apu” (1959)
Here we have my personal favorite of the trilogy. Ray wisely made a few other films before he embarked on this final chapter, and the added wisdom shows. It’s more confidently constructed, more beautiful and so very sad. It also features some of the most romantic and yet honest views of married life ever captured on film. Apu is now a grown man, living alone in a tiny Calcutta apartment struggling to become a writer (a nice payoff from the first film, where his father dreamed of making a life in the profession but never made it) and is forced into a marriage. Yet again tragedy strikes (not to give too much away, but many characters who grow close to Apu don’t last that long) in what will end up being probably the most difficult period of his life. But by the end, it all really does come together beautifully, and without compromise, never glossing over the struggles and refusing to cop out to some quasi-happy ending. Lest I make these films sound too depressing, fear not, they are full of life: the good, the bad and everything in between. Through it all, Apu continues to move forward, and having experienced his travails and triumphs with him, there’s almost nothing more life-affirming.
THREE MORE ESSENTIALS
All three of these are easily available on gorgeous blu-ray transfers from Criterion (packed with insightful special features), as well as streaming in HD on Hulu Plus.
“The Music Room” (1958)
Made between the second and third entries in the Apu Trilogy, this darker, less-easy-to-love, blazingly expressionistic film in the Ray canon is required viewing for many reasons. First and foremost is the way Ray, his DP Subrata Mitra and editor Dulal Dutta (both worked on all the films discussed here) conceived and executed the varied thrilling musical performances throughout the film. Beyond the need for a hit at the box office after the failure of “Aparajito,” Ray sought a showcase for classical Indian music and dance, and he wanted to showcase many of the country’s most talented musicians. Watching the film —a story about a once rich and prestigious Bengali landlord of a large farm, opening already well into his decline into obsolescence— it seems the filmmaker was obsessed with making these performances rich, entertaining and cinematic. The final musical sequence, featuring Roshan Kumari in a dance perfectly cut and framed to guide the viewer’s focus and subtly immerse us in its enchanting beauty, is a real show-stopper. Though he frames the story around a much less sympathetic character than the other works discussed here, the film still attains dizzying heights.
