Some films cannot go wrong  because the script is witty, the narrative straight, the shot-taking apt and most actors are brilliantly cast. It does not make a game changer, nor highly challenging cinema. It simply warms your heart. Touches your soul. Good enough for me to celebrate. 

What makes Parambrata Chattopadhyay’s Shonar Pahar a film worth reckoning is the director’s faith in his sequences, simply building interesting moments rather than loading them with clever dialogue and emotion. 

The entire first half is a treat to watch and feel. Where characters you may not have met but know they exist in your locality. Parambrata’s script and shot-taking make the loneliness of the old irate Upama (superbly played by Tanuja) and the antics of the impish naughty little orphan Bitlu (equally brilliantly acted by Shrijato Banerjee) not only convincing but deliciously desirable. 

The bonding between Upama and Bitlu forms the basic structure of Shonar Pahar, a story of a broken relationship between a mother (Tanuja) and son (Jisshu Sengupta). This gradual relationship between the cranky, hard-boiled Upama and the brat-ish yet extremely loving Bitlu is built with great care and an astute faith in simplicity. 

Here is where Parambrata the director steals your attention and heart almost effortlessly. Almost all the scenes in the first half are equally powerful, leading to the yellow taxi driver (Lama) joining to create the unique trio. 

The trip to JW Marriott for lunch, Bitlu riding the horse of mounted police, Upama learning to drive and then the accident... are simply superb. The hand-held, intense close- ups. The lagged pace. The minimalist background score... create a world that is known, yet refreshing and honest.

The second half, however, becomes somewhat predictable and the terse witty script becomes rather verbose towards the end. Jisshu’s final monologue to Tanuja seems pale compared to the quietly loaded scenes of the first half. 

However, the most brilliant sequence of the film comes post-interval where Soumya’s (Jisshu) search for his mother lands him in a room full of discarded old people in a thana. This sequence is brilliant enough to both make me see through Soumya’s torment and cry for folks like Upama. 

This rather grittily shot sequence by Subhankar Bhar and superbly acted by Jisshu and Tapati Munshi make Shonar Pahar cross the limits of sweet, personal cinema. It transcends to the social. The impact is so strong that I, personally, needed a quick reconciliation. 

Upama and Bitlu’s running off to Sikkim was necessary, but the finale could have been less lengthy. 

I was waiting for Soumya and Bitlu to become great friends somehow. Parambrata had other ideas which are no less interesting. 

Despite all my questions, which are very few, Shonar Pahar has a huge takeaway — which is love. Very rarely does a film make you want to love, once the film is over. Shonar Pahar stays for quite a long while.

A second mention of Tanuja is imperative ’cause I cannot imagine this cute gem to have been so believable without the cranky old Upama. 

Bhar’s breathing camera and extremely well-lit day interiors make the images palpable. Neel Dutt’s solo guitar in the background make a huge contribution to the emotion. 

As an actor, Parambrata’s Rajdeep seems like the actor is back in his elements. The quiet, effortless performance that made him. As a director, this is by far Parambrata’s best work and a very good work in recent times indeed. I never knew he could write such witty scripts.