Pather Panchali (Song of the little Road) - Satyajit Ray

Pather Panchali (Song of the road) the first in the pack of Satyajit Ray’s celebrated ‘Apu Trilogy’ is a vividly mellifluent poem come alive in the form of daintily impeccable pictures. Rarely can a film maker capture the substance of every day life, and define it with the niceties of unfortunate domestic circumstances, raw and carefree childhoods, ancestral and rural set ups, charming and resonant characters - all with a simplicity that is eminent. If Ray stands at the pedestal of impactful film making, it is generously for this reason.

Pather Panchali shows a Brahmin family of Harihar Ray, floating on the shaky logs of poverty, desperately trying to make ends meet, as Harihar goes away to town after surrendering his passion of writing to a reality that demands money and more mechanical jobs. Sarbojaya his wife remains; bogged down by the weight of financial pressures and family responsibilities, she singly drags the survival of one day to another. Lending only a heavier hand to the already wobbly household is Indir, an exceedingly old but unfussy woman who spends her time singing lullabies to the children, stealing spices for her still alive palatal pleasures and awaiting a final end to her much prolonged life. And then there are the truly dulcet tunes to this song of the road - those that emanate exuberantly from Durga and Apu, the delightful children of this household!

Ray’s film is not so much about its story and plot as it is about sensitively subtle and penetrating emotions. Leading itself to a catastrophic latter part that manages to leave you with a persistent feeling of pathos and reflection, Pather Panchali is otherwise an unhurried afternoon dream that lets you loll about the uncomplicated elements to life - the radiant smile of Durga welcoming the monsoon, Apu’s delightful jig to the arrival of an awaited letter, the expression of a dispirited mother livening at the sight of her young child, the warm and motherly wrap of Durga’s arm around a frozen Apu… and so on and so forth. Depicted so eloquently, the movie can be compared to a glacial winter where the characters are left in biting frostiness to survive, with the promise of a consistent sunshine - one that emerges when we see Durga and Apu rummage around excitedly for new-fangled discoveries like that of a train whistling in a distance, or when we watch while Apu first instigates, then worshipfully whirls around his fuming elder sister, or when we see them vigorously trail behind the village sweet seller - both, always grinning and drinking eagerly the sweet splendors of life.

The film in entirety is a recognized masterpiece, but there are scenes that epitomize its brilliance to me. The shots in which Ray depicts the announcement of death are remarkably novel and uncommon for his time - his terrific use of austere symbolism and evocative music (by Ravi Shankar) are haunting in effect and provocation, sans tears and other tragic trivialities. The scene of Indir’s silhouette against the wall while she expressively recites her frightening tale to the children is one more in the endless list of its spectaculars!

The performances of all the actors are naturally fantastic - as if they are habitually living in their own space and time, perfectly oblivious to the following gaze of the camera’s eye. Durga’s (Runki Bannerjee) spontaneous smile is purely contagious! Indir’s (Chunibala Devi) extraordinarily aged lines are intriguing and full of grace, one looks at her all through, dubiously wondering if her fragile skeleton structure will make it through her next teetering footstep. Apu (Subir Bannerjee), playful and sprightly as a child changes existing stereotypes of delectable chubby children by being a lovable lean little boy who captures you with his curious eyes and energetic will.

Pather Panchali displays a talismanic ability to transform the unexciting routine gradations of life into magically transcending moments that are full of sweet euphoria, realistic relationships, relentless struggles and herculean emotions - A treasure chest of vintage culture and arrangement for those who lived in its time, and a prized revelation to those of the latter-day, the film is a rare and exemplary cinematic experience. Let go of your action-packed suspicious spirit before this one, and hum along in tune with this gently glorious song of the road.

Editor's [rating:9.5/10]

Pather Panchali's Train sequence