I am sorely tempted to comment on each line of the review of my film Abohomaan (‘Fragmented eternity’, January 26). For instance, the germane question to ask about the role of a reviewer, surely pertains to all films, not just mine. And my advice here would be, ‘Do not over-complicate the obvious’.

Also, since Barun Chanda is an old advertising hand, I would remind him of the famous David Ogilvy adage, ‘The consumer is not a moron; she’s your wife’. I say this with some confidence since I have received feedback from many of “the general film-going public”, saying they had no problem in discerning the links between the layers of Abohomaan, the so-called “fragments” according to the reviewer.

Since the same reviewer had watched my earlier films, The Last Lear and Shob Charitro Kalponik, with such close attention and appreciated their finer details, even identified the tenuous link between the real and the surreal in Shob Charitro Kalponik, I wonder what caused him to deviate in the case of Abohomaan.

If he found the film so boring that he nodded off, I would understand why he missed the connections with Sreemati-Shikha and the Binodini sequence. ‘Your film is being shown on TV,’ the nurse tells Sreemati. The viewer sees the film first on the small screen and then on the large, ending with Aniket, the director, saying ‘Cut!’ and Shikha emerging in costume to ask about the shot. And yet the ‘attentive’ reviewer says, “But there’s nothing to suggest that the Girish Ghosh-Binodini sequence is part of the director’s film.” Homer nods, methinks.

Had he been more alert, he would have had no difficulty in making out how the fleeting moments in people’s lives fit in and make what life is about. The “fabric of meaning” is there for even non-cineastes to discern. In fact, it is even embedded in Aniket’s sick-bed dialogue with his son. ‘The new film will be made by all of us,’ he says. ‘You, me, my mother, your mother, Shikha, Lekha, all of us.’

If life can be comprehended only through a well-rounded, linear narrative, then most of our lives would perhaps have no meaning at all.

Regarding my “preoccupation with death”, it is there in Dosar and Unishe April too, which the reviewer has not mentioned; but not in The Last Lear, which he has. (On the contrary, the concluding frozen moments in Last Lear between Shabnam and Harry, Shakespeare and yet another new morning, celebrates life and hope, rather than death.) Other directors have had their pet preoccupations too; for instance, Ritwik Ghatak with the Partition. I am not for one moment claiming comparison with the greats, merely saying that I don’t see a recurrent theme as a problem per se.

The relationship between a director and his subject is something I have explored again and again. In Khela, Bariwali, The Last Lear and lately in Abohomaan. Comparing Last Lear with Abohomaan would have been more apt from this angle.

About the “elements drawn from movies of other filmmakers”, Shikha’s mentally challenged sister Lekha does have external similarities with Khuku in Paromitar Ekdin, I admit. But the context of the two sisters being so helplessly dependent on each other is the essential point I wished to make.

As for the similarity with Bimala of Ghare Baire, I didn’t get Barunda’s point at all. Bimala stepping out of the inner quarters is an event which Satyajit Ray celebrates with a series of slow motion shots of the couple walking together almost ethereally, to the accompaniment of an orchestral rendition of Eki labanye purno praan. The sequence is so etched in my mind that it became the musical core of my Chokher Bali. I consider that particular Bimala sequence to be one of the highlights of Ghare Baire and I would have been somehow aware of it, even if it had crept in inadvertently. While I accept the superficial similarity between Lekha and Khuku, the Bimala parallel is completely puzzling. Not only for me, but for a lot of viewers who have been confused by this review and are calling me up for clarification.

As Barunda rightly remarks, I do adore Satyajit Ray and have watched all his films quite a few times. Ray kept his beautiful scenes brief, yes. But I don’t think he would expect others to accept this as a diktat. Bergman, another director whom I hugely adore (and whose influence in Shob Charitro Barunda himself has noted with admiration), was much given to long dialogue-driven scenes which are the inspiration and stuff of Abohomaan.

Regarding similarities between Aniket’s life and that of a famous director from the past, we all know of Guru Dutt and Waheeda, Raj Kapoor-Nargis and his other heroines, and Bergman himself has talked of his relationships with his actresses. In this case, the duo that may uniquely come to mind are Harisadhan and Sonali Dasgupta. Many years ago, Harisadhan had wanted to direct Ghare Baire based on a screenplay by Satyajit Ray. Sonali was selected for the role of Bimala. But the film didn’t get off the ground. Sonali and Harisadhan Dasgupta got married and they have a filmmaker son called Raja Dasgupta. So, which director from the past is Barunda talking about?

Even keeping this story in the background, Abohomaan is purely a work of fiction. Therefore there is no need to look for a “fledgling relationship” between the son and the actress as an obfuscation of facts. It is an integral part of my plot. Period.

To return to his original contention regarding my “dispensing with the narrative style altogether”. This is a problem for those who have stock expectations from any creative individual. They expect him to conform to a particular stereotype, and simultaneously accuse him of repetition. My 14 films released so far (with three still pending) have clearly established me as a competent storyteller on celluloid, if not a filmmaker of any worthwhile standing. Experimenting with narrative style is something I think I have earned and am entitled to, with or without anyone’s advice, blessings or suggestions.

Finally, I have a suggestion for Barunda — please watch a film carefully, with undivided attention and minus any baggage, before you review it.

Do you agree with the filmmaker or the reviewer? Tell t2@abpmail.com

Scotland in Nandan

After a Mexico-themed book fair, a Scottish film festival. From February 1 to 4, Nandan will host Scotland-Kolkata Cuts, under the aegis of the British Council, Nandan West Bengal Film Centre and Scottish Screen.

The festival will screen a package of Scottish films picked by Emmy winner and Golden Globe nominee Brian Cox (in picture). The Scottish actor is a popular face in Hollywood blockbusters, from Manhunter to Troy. The festival will open with Rob Roy, starring Liam Neeson, Jessica Lange and Cox, who will be in Calcutta for the festival. The other films in the bouquet include the 1949 classic Whisky Galore!, psychological drama Tunes of Glory, the 1997 black comedy Orphans, the classic romance I Know Where I’m Going, acclaimed fantasy film Water Horse, BAFTA winner Local Hero and Danny Boyle’s Trainspotting.

The festival concludes with a screening of Jute Journey, a documentary film which had brought Cox to Calcutta last April to trace the perils and predicament of Scottish workers employed in jute mills in and around the city in the early 20th century.