It is the prerogative of an old artist, perhaps, to abandon realism in favor of fairy tales. Satjayit Ray's last film, The Stranger, released in 1991 displays the traits of a late work. The premise is very simple and economically framed. Cinematic technique is reduced to a few discrete tracking shots near the end of the movie and the picture is edited in a lucid way that doesn't draw attention to the cutting. Characters are archetypal and thematic material is presented in a manner that is unabashedly didactic. Above all, Ray will tolerate no suffering, at least, in the long run -- everyone lives happily ever after. Ray was very ill with heart disease at the time that the movie was made and, on doctor's orders, was confined to the studio. This limitation colors the film which is theatrical in character -- people in drawing rooms politely debating issues that are philosophical in nature. Confrontations are minimized; even characters who behave rudely do so within the bounds of polite society. In many respects, the movie resembles Louis Malle's My Dinner with Andre -- its centerpiece is a long, discursive conversation about the merits of civilization versus savagery. Although the movie is revered in India (as is its director), and was honored in this country by universally favorable reviews, I don't think the picture is fully successful -- however, its flaws are those of ambition: it contains too many ideas to be fully coherent.
Sudhin Bose and his wife Anila are a prosperous couple with a very handsome young son, Satyiki. They live in a well-appointed house among museum-quality antiques -- bronze images of Hindu gods. The couple have two servants who hover around the edges of the action -- their silence (between the two men there are only a couple of lines) is thematic, however, I'm not sure in what way. Mrs. Bose is attractive and kind. She is renowned in the neighborhood for her "biscuits" -- that is, cookies -- and we see her making a tray of heart-shaped biscuits for her guests. The happy, complacent life of this family is disrupted by a letter received from Anila's uncle, a man who has been missing for 35 years. (He left India in 1955 and the film is set in 1990). Writing in fluent, if somewhat antique and florid Bengali, the uncle, named Manmoha Mitra proposes a visit -- and, indeed, says that he will be arriving from New Delhi (the picture is set in Calcutta) in a couple of days. Sudhin, the husband, is highly suspicious -- he suspects that the man will be an imposter and will swindle them in some way. He almost vetoes the visit, but Anila is strong-willed and demands that the man be allowed to stay with them for a few days. She has no memory of Mitra herself and won't be able to recognize him -- although she looks forward to the visit, she carefully hides the antique bronzes: no reason to take unnecessary risks.
Mitra turns out to be a handsome fellow with very dark eyes, a man of indeterminate age, who seems to speak German -- although, as far as we know, he knows only a few words. The man's story is unclear. Anila is afflicted with doubts although the stranger charms her with his witty remarks and encyclopedic knowledge of the world. The little boy, Satyiki, is smitten by the man and immediately loves him as his "great uncle." Sudhin Bose remains skeptical and decides to put Mitra to the test -- Mr. Bose has a lawyer friend, famous for his cross-examination skills, and he plans a dinner party in which the attorney will closely interrogate the stranger. When Mitra sings a mnemonic song listing the 108 names of Krishna, Anila is convinced he is her uncle -- when he sings, he uses cadences familiar to her from songs her mother taught her. But Anila now is suspicious that Mitra has appeared only to collect a fortune that he may be owed. Anila's grandfather was a prominent ENT specialist in the city and Mitra's share of the legacy has never been distributed -- it remains under the custody of a legal conservator. Before Mitra can be cross-examined by the lawyer, Pritish Sen Gupta, the Bose's nosy neighbors show up -- the neighbor man is a TV star and a well-known comedian and he mugs at Mitra and performs some of his comedy routines, particularly a little monologue involving acronyms that is replete with corny English puns. This encounter is inconsequential and, although funny, nothing of substance is revealed. (The comic proclaims Bengali "conversation" as the height of their culture's contribution to the world; Mitra argues in favor of Greek dialectic and proposes that Aristophanes is better than the funny-looking little man famous for his TV roles, an unfair comparison I think.) The interview with the lawyer follows and the scene comprises about a third of the film, probably 45 minutes. In the course of the interview, Mitra reveals that he is an anthropologist with a degree from a London university. He has spent most of his life studying tribal people, mostly indigenous cultures in the United States, Brazil, and Peru. The conversation is wide-ranging, but, generally, focuses on the relationship of civilization to barbarism. Mitra believes that man has made no progress and that, despite the trappings of civilization, we are all savages at heart. Mr. Gupta demands to know whether Mitra has eaten human flesh (we know he's enjoyed roast armadillo). Mitra says that he hasn't yet been a cannibal but would like to taste human flesh. Sen Gupta seems to be offended by Mitra's calm and implacable defense of barbarism. He takes the conversation personally and, at the end, demands that Mitra "come clean or clear out." Gupta has gone too far and is admonished by Mr. Bose for his harshness. The next morning, Mitra's room is empty and he has, indeed, left Calcutta. The Bose's with the little boy in tow travel to a small village where Mitra is said to be observing the tribal people. Along the way, they learn that Mitra has, indeed, contacted the lawyer and collected his sizeable legacy, money inherited from his father. In the village, Mitra is sleeping outdoors. He has paid the villagers to perform a traditional dance for him. The characters watch the tribal women dancing to the sound of drums and flutes -- the musicians stamping about with rattles and bells wrapped around their thighs. Anila is moved and participates in the dance. Back in Calcutta, the family says goodbye to Uncle Mitra. (He is leaving for Australia.) Mitra has a book awaiting publication An Indian among the Indians, an autobiography about his adventures and expect to make some money from that endeavor. He leaves, pressing an envelope into Anila's hand. She opens it and finds that Mitra has written her a check for his entire share of the inheritance. The frame freezes and the movie abruptly ends. It's characteristic of the somewhat archaic structure of the film that it begins and ends like a story by Chekhov, that is, with the arrival of a mysterious letter.
The plot is archetypal -- an eccentric stranger, who may be a god in disguise, visits a family, teaches them some things, and, then, departs after lavishly rewarding them for their hospitality. The heart of the film are the discourses by the stranger which involve a variety of things -- Plato's symposium, the double-meaning of the word "prodigal", the history of the resistance by tribal people to British rule, and, ultimately, civilization and barbarism. There are also discourses on astronomy and art: Mitra planned to be an artist but was dissuaded when he saw a picture of the bison pained in the Paleolithic cave at Altamira. The image persuaded him that no amount of "civilized" education could turn him into an artist equal to the person who painted the wall of the cavern. (The subtitles go awry here: the paintings in the cave in Spain are said to be 2000 years old -- I think they're ten times that age.) Mitra contends that civilization has failed and cites, as an example, the homeless people living on the cold streets of New York City, a spectacle that shocked him. The debate about civilization is complex and digressive -- the Bose's simply listen as the lawyer and the anthropologist speak. This is one of the defects of the film, after Mr. Bose's preliminary objections, the couple becomes strangely passive and delegate their concerns with Mitra to other people. Exactly why these others take such an interest in the stranger is unclear and a bit puzzling. The gift of the legacy to the Bose's at the end of the movie is meaningless -- Anila is already wealthy: her father (Mitra's brother) has died and so she has received his share of the old doctor's money and is, apparently, living comfortably on that wealth. (It's her money that has purchased the large and nicely furnished house.) So the happy ending, in which she is given money that she doesn't need, rings a bit hollow. The acting is excellent, particularly Utpal Dutt who performs in the challenging role of the anthropologist uncle. (This is the Andre role in My Dinner with Andre). Dutt was a Communist and founder of Brechtian "epic theater" in India and he is a compelling figure. The penultimate sequence, probably produced by a Second Unit director, is picturesque but not persuasive -- charming native people performing a charming native dance for tourists a commonplace and I'm not convinced that this ritual has any meaning other than as a sop to outsiders who want to see "real Indians" or "real Eskimos" or, for that matter, "real hillbillies" in the Ozarks. Furthermore, the distinction between civilization and savagery is false and feels archaic, even in 1991 when the movie was made. There are no people without some kind of elaborate culture -- their culture is just different from ours, something brought home by shots in the film showing these very cultured and highly educated Indians eating rice and soupy stews with their fingers. This isn't the way that I would eat a stew or a mess of boiled spinach, but there are different ways of doing things in different parts of the world. The film's theme is summarized by a bit of dialogue at the end of the picture. Mitra, who seems to know everything, asks Mr. Bose about the longest word in the English language -- it's floccinaucinihilipification and means "making something nothing, or nil". To which Mitra adds: "that's the essence of civilization isn't it, a word with 26 lettera that means to make something into nothing." (The word isn't real in any event -- it's an invention of a grammarian in the 19th century, a demonstration-word to show how English can use Latin terms to make compound nouns.)
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