The significant strength of Grihapravesh lies in the story. When almost every film is dabbling in thriller, horror, and historical adventure genres, it’s highly refreshing to see a pure drama about the Bengali middle class. Samragnee Bandyopadhyay’s screenplay and dialogues are rooted in the dailiness of the typical Bengali household, where the forcibly married son has deserted the family, and the daughter-in-law has almost become the daughter of the family. Both the elderly father and sick mother have lovingly embraced their daughter-in-law, Titli. The film kicks off on the day of Mahalaya with a scene of Titli making payesh with the maid. It’s clearly evident that she has become not just a caregiver but a stern, dutiful head of the broken family.
The initial scenes of the family are filled with the daily chores, and Indraadip Dasgupta (director), without being verbose, clearly builds all his four main characters — Srimati, the mother, Apratim, the father, deserted wife Titli and Bilu, the nephew of the father, who has gone astray and is almost reduced to a househelp. It’s more through the routine actions of the family waking up to get ready for the upcoming Puja celebrations that the characters are built rather solidly. We are casually informed that Titli has decided to open up a homestay in the house and is waiting for their first guest.
After a long time, it’s highly relishing to watch a certain kind of realism, minus clever dialogue, that keeps you thoroughly engaged. You are reminded and swept into the kind of adult Bangla cinema which was taken to heights by Rituparno Ghosh. I’m not saying Indraadip has the same talent. Neither does he have a more talented cinematographer like Avik Mukhopadhyay or a designer like Indraneel Ghosh. Yet, Indraadip somehow manages to build a world that is old-fashioned, trying to be modern but flawed. He makes you feel it’s the world we live in.
The sequence where the first guest Megh arrives during a sudden storm is a highlight of this film. As he enters the house, Titli is fighting the wind and trying to pull down the saris from the clothesline on the terrace, with the Baul song, Amar hath bandhibi… on the soundtrack, is iconic. It’s pretty obvious that it is meant to remind us of Charulata and warn us that Titli’s almost stagnant sexuality will be aroused by Megh. Which does happen. The point I want to raise is that almost every current Bong filmmaker seems to load their films with tributes. Most fall flat cause they fail to build it innocuously. They are mostly through dialogue. Indraadip succeeds simply because he does it visually, in his own way, without trying to be obvious, with care. The scene is one of the highlights of the film.
Grihapravesh is filled with many sequences that stand out rather effectively. I particularly like the sequence where a drunk Bilu rambles his grief to the goddess Durga, about how he has been reduced to a househelp but cannot find words, since he has actually become a gambler and a thief. Rudranil Ghosh proves once again that he is a brilliant performer and deserves more attention. His performance, bordering on witty comedy, could have slipped into the farcical. It’s truly a delight to watch him control that.
Indraadip makes equal effort to round off all his characters by giving them due space. The scene where the ailing Srimati, brilliantly played by Sohini Sengupta, forgives Bilu for stealing and also pushing her, is rather heartwarming. Indraadip has the courage to move away from the main plot and ensure that the subplots get due attention. It only makes the viewing more enriching. Yet, he doesn’t waste time on underlining the change in Bilu or reasserting the mother in Sohini who has been deserted by her own son. Just that one sequence, and Bilu is back in the fold, celebrating the Puja.
The film’s success lies in these peripheral scenes that are very well knit into the main plot. The scene where Titli happens to be subtly connecting with the guest Megh during breakfast, and the father-in-law, Apratim, makes an effort to let them be alone by leaving the table with his wife, is remarkable. Yet that same Apratim is rather upset finding out that Titli and Megh have been flying kites rather intimately on the terrace. These sequences not only make the story layered but the characters very human.
Kaushik Ganguly has always been an extremely fine actor. He holds the bold and complex plot together with his rock-solid presence. That Apratim loves the early women-centric films of Rituparno Ghosh but refuses to appreciate his later films on transgenders and homosexuality, is brought out with effortless strength. He therefore becomes almost like the average audience, who are very compassionate to life but are homophobic deep within. In the final climax sequence, Kaushik, as the betrayed father, is too powerful for anyone to equal him, least of all Megh. That Kaushik grabs his wretched nephew Bilu close to his heart and questions his fate is simply outstanding.
The brief flashbacks of the son, Saon, before and after the marriage are remarkably woven into the narrative. Editor Sujoy Dutta Roy does a very good job of cutting back and forth in time without being flashy. This itself lifts the story from being average. The general disinterest in being flashy is yet another strength of the film. It offers you a very bold plot without trying to be bold. The fact that Saon has not been able to open up to his parents nor to Titli is not held back as a stunning surprise till the last. It is rather subtly woven into the character of Saon in the flashbacks. I have not seen Suprovo Tagore before, and he comes off as a refreshing change. A big applause to Suprovo.
There have been quite a few films made on same sex relationships, including those by Rituparno. Most have dwelt on the transgenders. That men can attract men and love each other has rarely come on the Bengali screen. I have no qualms in mentioning that I dealt with it in my Bong Connection, Hemanta and then again in Finally Bhalobasha. It comes as a very pleasant surprise that Indraadip weaves a film about a gay person, perhaps a bisexual. He does that extremely convincingly but also with compassion for those who are traditionally heterosexual. I highly recommend it to the average elderly audience.
The protagonist, Titli, however, is the pillar of the film. I have seen Subhashree in many films and even worked with her. I personally feel this is her most commendable performance. She is simply outstanding, bringing out all the complex layers of her role. The self-sufficient girl who has lost her parents and lover and has grown up in a hostel. The wife who could never be a wife since her husband had left her. The caring daughter to her in-laws. The stern housekeeper. The vulnerable woman who falls for Megh. The rebel in her who ignores her father-in-law and blossoms into a lover. The daring, lusty woman who almost forces Megh to confront her love. The betrayed woman who ends up in fiery anguish. Subhashree manages to bring out all the shades with genuine care. I was particularly thrilled to notice her carelessly clad in chappals, almost looking like a spinster in the beginning. When she connects with Megh, she starts to dress more gracefully, and her sexuality is evident.
Indraadip could have cut down on the carpeted background score, since the dialogues say it all. I am certain fewer songs could have enhanced the flow of this realistic narrative. In fact certain songs were simply not necessary. Indraadip has proved himself to be a very valid director in his own right. He should have underplayed his music director self.
I am also disappointed by Jeetu Kamal’s Megh. He completely and absolutely looks the part and emulates a certain male charm. Yet, during the final confrontation and climax, surrounded by brilliant performances, his stand seems pale. Though Jeetu had a brilliant role, very rarely written. Yet well-crafted sequences make up for the loss. Especially where Subhashree goes to put vermilion on her forehead, stalls and hastily chooses a dash of lipstick. Again, where a dejected Bilu holds a nib of cheap whiskey to finally pour it in the drain. I can think of many such brief, telling sequences, but I am holding back since I want you to see them.
The only song that works for me is the Ranbindrasangeet, Bodhu kon aalo laglo chokhe, with Subhashree under the shower trying to wash off her betrayed lust. Here is where Indraadip scores by using a popular song in a sequence that brings out a totally different meaning.
Though Indraadip has tried to steer away from the soapy sentimental, he does, however, finally resort to melodrama during the climax. Yet, the stillness in the theatre proved that the audience still liked it. I still feel that a more visual treatment, rather than ranting, would have increased the power of anguish and betrayal. Yes, Grihapravesh, despite being a tad too long, has a highly engaging, complex plotline, which is rare in Bangla cinema today and deserves attention. I highly recommend it to the adult, elderly audience who are in need of a believable drama to go to the halls. Go for it because of the bold story. Go for it because of the great acting. Go for it because of a sensitive, touching experience.