There was a quiet reverence in the air at PVR-INOX (South City), as the cast, crew, and select members of the Bengali film fraternity gathered for the premiere of Grihapravesh. The red carpet event unfolded with poise and poignancy — a befitting launch for a film that dares to navigate longing, identity, and the quiet complexities of love.
Subhashree Ganguly, who essays the role of Titli in the film, made a striking entrance in a velvet maroon sari with delicate golden embroidery. She paired the look with traditional gold jewellery and a bold bindi — a look that mirrored the gravitas and old-world charm of her on-screen character. “It’s an emotional film, and tonight feels very special. We made this with care, and I hope people carry something home from it. We are seeing audiences from different age groups, and till now I have received a very warm response,” she said.
Director Indraadip Dasgupta was joined by Kaushik Ganguly, Jeetu Kamal, Rudranil Ghosh and Sohini Sengupta. Familiar faces from the industry, including Parambrata Chattopadhyay, Shiboprosad Mukherjee and Sauraseni Maitra, also graced the premiere. “The actors and the director in the film are my dearest friends. Subhashree is one of my favourite actresses, as a co-actor and as a director’s actor. She brings something raw and understated to the role. And Indraadip is finding his own rhythm as a storyteller — you can feel it,” said Param.
Jeetu Kamal, dressed in a dhuti-panjabi with a Rituparno Ghosh motif embroidery detail, said, “When I had first read the script, I felt that as an actor I have some responsibility towards society. Subhashree is very involved as a co-actor and when you watch the film you’ll know how brilliant the outcome is when the colleagues are fantastic!”
Indraadip said, “I just feel Rituda’s presence today. Had he been here, he would have said, ‘Call me tomorrow, we need to talk about the film’. I won’t get too excited but I will say that Subhashree is unparalleled in the film. I hope the audience likes it... it’s not my film, it’s everyone who worked on it, including the technicians, the distributors.”
When we entered the theatre on a breezy June evening, we were expecting an intimate, perhaps melancholic family drama. But Grihapravesh, released during Pride Month, had other plans.
Set against the crumbling opulence of a grand ancestral home, Grihapravesh is a quietly powerful film about longing, identity, and emotional exile. It opens on the morning of Mahalaya — the day Bengalis traditionally mark the homecoming of the goddess Durga. But instead of celebration, the home in question is steeped in stillness. The story centres on Titli (played by Subhashree), a young woman who finds herself abandoned shortly after marriage when her husband Shaon leaves his parental home without explanation. Left to navigate life inside a sprawling, decaying ancestral mansion with her in-laws, Titli becomes the reluctant pillar of a broken family.
Beneath her stoic exterior lies a woman grappling with unresolved grief, suppressed desire, and the ache of unfinished beginnings. When Titli decides to open a homestay in the family home, a guest named Meghdoot (Jeetu Kamal) arrives. His presence disrupts the quiet rhythm of the house — and awakens something in Titli. Theirs is not a romance in the traditional sense. It’s subtle, hesitant, filled with pauses and proximity, shadowed by guilt and restraint.
The family — Kaushik Ganguly’s affectionate but ideologically dated father-in-law Apratim, a cinephile, and Sohini Sengupta’s ailing but emotionally dependent mother-in-law Srimati — slowly come to rely on her presence, as if she’s been there forever.
But within the first 20 minutes, the story takes a quiet but significant turn. Through the memories, we see Shaon mentioning Call Me By Your Name. A film name-drop like this might seem like just an artsy reference, but here, it serves as the quiet reveal.
Grihapravesh is not a queer film in the loud, rainbow-wrapped way we expect in June. Instead, it’s a deeply Rituparno Ghosh-esque tribute — subtle, painful, layered with desire and denial. The late auteur’s framed portraits appear multiple times in the background, as if to bless and bear witness. This is a film that speaks his language — where a glance says more than a monologue, and where queerness is not an accessory but an ache. The cinematography is idyllic and some shots like the one where Titli is taking down saris from the terrace to keep them from getting wet in the rain when Meghdoot enters, paired with a stirring BGM, are exceptionally well done.
What makes the film all the more daring is that it dares to insert queerness into the heart of a traditional narrative — a joint family, a ‘perfect’ wife, an unexplained abandonment. The film doesn’t rely on shock value. Instead, it allows the audience to discover, through silences, and Meghdoot's subtext, alongside Shaon’s storyline, delicately handled, transforms the film from a domestic drama into a layered commentary on repression, societal expectations, and the quiet cost of self-denial.
Grihapravesh pays quiet homage to a city’s queer legacy, and to a master filmmaker who knew how to say everything without saying it all.