Subhrajit Mitra’s Devi Chowdhurani is an ambitious attempt to bring one of Bengal’s most celebrated literary works to the big screen. Based on Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay’s 1884 novel of the same name, the film tells the story of Prafulla, a young woman who rises from social rejection to become the bandit queen Devi Chowdhurani.
Set in 18th-century Bengal, the film, however, makes a significant shift in focus. In Bankim Chandra’s novel, the emphasis lies on Prafulla’s transformation — her journey from a woman scorned by her in-laws to a rebel who claims her own power. Mitra’s film turns the spotlight on Bhavani Pathak, the sanyasi leader of the rebellion, played by Prosenjit Chatterjee. His character becomes the central figure, with Prafulla’s journey running alongside but never taking full charge of the narrative.
To Mitra’s credit, he mounts the film on a grand scale. The production design painstakingly recreates 18th-century Bengal, with sprawling zamindar mansions, forest hideouts and colonial buildings. Cinematographer Anirban Chatterjee’s frames alternate between earthy tones and the vintage tint of an era gone by. The battle sequences, staged with elaborate choreography, are accentuated by Bickram Ghosh’s background score.
What’s jarring, however, is the geography. Much of the film is shot in the rugged terrains of Jangalmahal. The red earth, the dense sal forests, the arid stretches are remarkable, but not true to the setting of the novel, which unfolds in north Bengal’s riverine landscape.
According to lore, Devi Chowdhurani was famed for her daring raids conducted in budgerows on the river. That flavour is missing here. Instead, the action is staged mostly on land, with galloping horses replacing the stealth of boats
Srabanti Chatterjee delivers a committed performance, charting Prafulla’s growth from wronged woman to reluctant rebel. She holds her own with dignity although the screenplay often sidelines her moments of assertion. One wishes she had more space to bring the legend alive on screen.
Prosenjit, meanwhile, revels in his role with gravitas. He makes Bhavani Pathak magnetic and larger-than-life.
The ensemble cast provides the necessary support. Bibriti Chatterjee and Arjun Chakrabarty are phenomenal as Nishi and Rangaraj, the constant companions of Devi Chowdhurani. Darshana Banik is impressive as Sagar, the second wife of Prafulla’s estranged husband Brajeshwar (a forgettable Kinjal Nanda). Alexx O'Nell and Carl A. Harte play ruthless British officers, performances they can deliver in their sleep by now.
The larger issue lies in the way the film reinterprets Bankim Chandra’s text. The novel was bold in imagining a woman as the leader of resistance, long before such characters became common in Indian literature. Here, the focus shifts towards rebellion against the British. Even the fate of some of the characters in the climax — creative liberty, of course — could have been avoided.