Writing about Kaushik Ganguly’s Dhumketu is harder than it sounds. Not because it is a complex film to decode, but because the euphoria around its release has been overwhelming for the past few weeks. This was also the first time a Bengali film was screened at 7am at a South Kolkata multiplex, and that too at full capacity.
This kind of hysteria is rare — and rarer for a film that was actually shot a decade ago but has finally made it to the big screen.
Starring Dev and Subhashree Ganguly, Dhumketu feels like a time capsule from a period when contemporary Bengali cinema was in a churning. Back in 2014, Dev was trying to break his image as a mainstream hero and trying out unconventional roles. He had just delivered a nuanced turn in Buno Haansh. The idea of him headlining a Kaushik Ganguly film was exciting. More importantly, he was sharing screen space with Subhashree — they were a real-life couple back then — another mainstream actress. It was almost like Prosenjit Chatterjee and Rituparna Sengupta headlining Rituparno Ghosh’s Utsab.
The film’s title refers to the sudden return of Bhanu (Dev), like a comet, into the life of his childhood friend Jogesh (Rudranil Ghosh). The story unfolds in flashbacks and flash-forwards, revealing Bhanu’s past in Mohanganj, a fictional hilltown in Darjeeling. Son of a local teacher, Bhanu was forced to flee the town after his brother was murdered by a politician-businessman syndicate because of his father’s outspokenness around their corrupt practices; Bhanu was next on their hit list.
Hiding in Arunachal Pradesh, Bhanu was recruited by an extremist group led by Chief (Chiranjit Chakraborty). The narrative follows Bhanu’s return to his hometown in order to meet his wife Rupa (Subhashree) and his parents (Dulal Lahiri and Alokananda Roy) before his final suicide mission.
One of the pillars of Dhumketu is Kaushik Ganguly’s screenplay. Although made a decade ago, the messaging of the story is relevant even today. While the makers do not encourage extremism as a means of protest against systemic violence, the director underlines the importance of speaking out against institutional injustice and the significance of protest as a democratic right.
While there are nuanced takes on themes of patriotism and insurgency, the focus largely remains on human relationships. This is where Dev and Subhashree’s chemistry scores. There’s an unforced nostalgia in the way they share the screen — be it enjoying a cycle ride or boating in a lake, or even communicating with each other in silence. And yes, there’s a kiss, too. Both carry the freshness of youth in their screen presence.
Despite its long delay, the film retains a freshness in look and feel, aided by its scenic locations, crisp editing and organic performances. The long delay in release has brought with it certain advantages. Dev’s voice work, for instance, is far sharper today than it was ten years ago. He has clearly taken care in dubbing.
Dev, in his older avatar, benefits from prosthetic makeup, but it’s his body language that completes the illusion. His performance is not flawless — the prosthetics occasionally look like a mask — but there is a natural ease in his movements that sells the character. Dhumketu may not match his performance in Buno Haansh or Zulfiqar, but his earnestness shows.
Rudranil Ghosh delivers one of his finest turns as Jogesh, reining in his usual tendency for melodrama. His scenes with Dev are some of the finest in the film. In a brief appearance as Rupa’s new suitor, Parambrata Chattopadhyay steals the show in a pre-climax scene with Dev where silence does most of the talking.
While the film’s music adds to the emotional beats, Indraadip Dasgupta’s background score often goes overboard. Even the songs, composed by Anupam Roy, feel like unnecessary distractions at times.