He calls this telefilm, Uttoron, “a tribute to motherhood”. But, then, he also calls himself Ringo. If you can have poetic licence, why can’t you have moniker licence? And with his kind of talent, he could call himself Haridas Paul McCartney, his work would still have that finesse.

Ringo’s personal flamboyance flushes well with that finesse. And that was more than evident when he was wielding that monstrous machine on a swinging hand-crane trained on Anusree Das and a child artiste, while his eyes were trained 90 degrees left. That was no ghostly licence, he was handling the camera but watching the monitor screen on his left, from above the camera. At once you forgave him his sandow ganjee and bermudas, and even his rushing in to show the kid how to take the shove and fall, a hundred times. By the time everything was nearly ‘okay’ (no take is ever perfectly ‘okay’), the kid starts bawling, holding his fairly bruised bottom from all that falling in rejected takes.

Indrani Halder, Anusree Das and (above) director Ringo

While a somewhat tense dad was wondering what to do to help the shoot, Indrani Halder who was sitting on the sidebench, chatting with her real-life mother, felt urged to also rush in to mollycoddle the kid. Ringo: “Mamoni, don’t do that! Just let him be. You’re not his dad. It doesn’t work like that.” Indrani gave her Indigo Productions partner and Uttoron director, a Yashomati Maiyya look of angst, mixed with an artiste’s restraint. ‘Okay’ take next.

While Ringo got busy with Anusree’s closeup, Indrani was back at her sidebench, feeding the kid some rossogollas from his tiffin box. Lucky kid, and never mind a bruised bottom.

Scheduled telecast: May 29;
Tara Muzic; 7:30 pm