At Aparna Sen’s birthday bash last October, filmmaker Ranjan Ghosh did not imagine that a chance introduction would quietly alter the destiny of his next film.
Introduced by Konkona Sensharma to Shabana Azmi, Ghosh was still absorbing the moment when Konkona casually mentioned that her mother, Aparna Sen, was presenting his upcoming Bengali film Adamya. Shabana Azmi paused. Aparna Sen — one of India’s most formidable filmmakers — had never presented a film before.
Intrigued, Azmi asked questions. What kind of film was it? Why was Aparna Sen presenting it? And then, without ceremony, she insisted on watching it. She shared her email address and asked Ghosh to send her a Vimeo link. The next morning, before Ghosh could even recover from the previous night’s surreal turn of events, Aparna Sen herself reminded him — Shabana was waiting. An elated and slightly disbelieving Ghosh sent the link immediately. And then began the wait.
Shabana Azmi replied within a week. She had watched Adamya with her husband, poet-lyricist Javed Akhtar. The email, Ghosh recalls, was generous and detailed. But one line stood out — a sentence that any filmmaker would carry for life. Azmi wrote that she found in Adamya “an impressive directorial hold on the subject and its cinematic expression.”
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Javed Akhtar, equally moved, felt that “the film successfully creates an immersive experience for the viewer.” Both congratulated Ghosh warmly. For a filmmaker working largely outside the comfort zone of mainstream cinema, it felt surreal. But this was only the beginning of Adamya’s unusual journey — a journey that would see the film quietly travel through inboxes and into the minds of some of Indian cinema’s most respected voices.
A Fifth Film, and a First for Aparna Sen
Adamya is Ranjan Ghosh’s fifth feature film — but it is also his most politically direct. “Bengal’s first single-character film, a stark political drama set in the Sundarbans, it follows Palash, a 23-year-old youth whose involvement in a political assassination attempt goes disastrously wrong, forcing him into flight, reckoning and moral confrontation. The film’s English title, The Unbroken, gestures toward resilience, but Adamya resists the comfort of heroic certainty. It interrogates ideology, youthful rage, systemic violence, and the fragile boundary between resistance and extremism — themes that feel acutely relevant in contemporary India,” said Ghosh.
What set the film apart even before its release was Aparna Sen’s association as its presenter — a role she has never taken on before in her decades-long career. In an industry where “presentation” often functions as a marketing tool, Sen’s involvement carried a different weight: an endorsement rooted in conviction rather than commerce. For Ghosh, it was both validation and responsibility.
A French Voice, and a Difficult Truth
If Shabana Azmi’s response affirmed the film’s emotional and cinematic power, the next feedback Ghosh received was more unsettling — and perhaps more prophetic. Dominique Welinski, the France-based curator and producer of the Factory programme at the Directors’ Fortnight in Cannes, watched Adamya out of sheer curiosity, recommended by a common friend. Her response was startling. Welinski felt that “Adamya (The Unbroken) was the boldest political film she had seen from India after Bandit Queen.”
But her praise came with a warning. She told Ghosh that no major film festival would dare touch the film, not because of its quality, but because of its uncompromising political stance. "Her advice was blunt and unexpected: forget the festival circuit. Focus instead on reaching the film directly to its audience," said Ghosh. The feedback was disorienting. Was this good news or bad? Ghosh admits he was perplexed. But after reflection, he decided to heed her advice. At the time, he didn’t know that another affirmation was waiting — closer home, and more monumental than he could ever imagine.
A Note from Adoor Gopalakrishnan
During the Kolkata International Film Festival last year, Malayalam auteur Adoor Gopalakrishnan was in the city to participate in a discussion on Ritwik Ghatak. Ghosh, aware that moments like these rarely repeat themselves, did not hesitate.
He requested a meeting. Adoor listened politely. Then, as simply as Azmi had done earlier, he shared his email address. Ghosh sent the Vimeo link. And waited again. This time, the response arrived sooner, on the fourth day. “Dear Ranjan Ghosh,” Adoor wrote. “Watched your film yesterday and liked it. Congratulations!” The message went on to describe Adamya as “exceptionally conceived and well executed with good performances and well-suited locales.” But one detail left Ghosh particularly moved. Adoor suggested an alternate English title for the film: The Irrepressible.
Adamya’s official English title remains The Unbroken, but the fact that Adoor was so invested in the film that he contemplated its naming felt "deeply humbling". The note ended simply: “Wishing you well.” For Ghosh, it was a moment of quiet disbelief. “The thought that Adoor Gopalakrishnan spent time thinking about our film, even suggesting an alternate title — it’s overwhelming,” he says.
A Film Made Over Three Years
Behind these endorsements lies a long, arduous process. "Adamya took nearly three years to shape — from writing and location scouting in the Sundarbans to shooting under difficult terrain and conditions. Aryuun Ghosh, who plays Palash, anchors the film with a performance that oscillates between ferocity and vulnerability. The cinematography by Arkaprabha Das turns the Sundarbans into a character — neither romanticised nor reduced to backdrop, but alive with menace, beauty and political tension. The team of six — including Sourya Madrajee, Arjo Giri, and Shubham Dutta — worked with limited resources but unwavering commitment. The film’s aesthetic language is spare, urgent and grounded, avoiding spectacle in favour of immersion," said Ghosh.
One of Adamya’s striking creative choices is its engagement with poetry — particularly Sukanta Bhattacharya’s iconic lines from Deshlai Kathi, reinterpreted through contemporary sound and rhythm. The film’s teaser, featuring a rap rendition performed by Aryuun Ghosh himself, hints at this synthesis of literary lineage and modern expression.
Cinema That Refuses Comfort
"What Adamya seems to have achieved — as evidenced by the early reactions it has drawn — is a rare alignment of political courage and cinematic control. It neither sermonises nor softens its gaze. Instead, it trusts the audience to sit with discomfort, ambiguity and unanswered questions. In that sense, the film feels in conversation with a lineage of Indian political cinema that includes Ghatak, Mrinal Sen and Govind Nihalani — filmmakers who believed cinema could confront power without becoming propaganda," said Ghosh.
Aparna Sen’s presence as presenter feels particularly resonant in this context. "For her, Adamya represents not just a film she believes in, but a cinema worth protecting — one that speaks truth without fear. She is very happy about these endorsements,” Ghosh says. “All three — Shabana Azmi, Javed Akhtar, Adoor Gopalakrishnan — responding so generously… it validates our efforts.”
Beyond Festivals, Toward the Audience
Adamya will not follow the predictable path of international festival acclaim. “But perhaps that is precisely its strength. This is a film that seems destined to travel through conversations rather than trophies — whispered about, forwarded, debated, defended. In an era where political cinema often hesitates or disguises its intent, Adamya arrives unflinching. It may unsettle, provoke, even divide — but it refuses indifference. And sometimes, that is the most radical act cinema can perform,” said Ghosh.