A scene from Rangroop’s latest production He Mor Debota

Does anyone remember Abanindranath Tagore’s humorous take on the Ramayana? The master artist-cum-author retold many timeless classics for children. Some among them got adapted for the stage. They still do. Mostly tales of valiant kings and queens. But Chainburhor Punthi, a delightful comedy made out of select episodes of the Aryan epic lay buried for decades. Debabrata Roy of Ajker Sanlap took it up and transformed into a hilarious theatrical experience.

The action starts in Mount Kiskindhya with Rama and Lakshmana finding strategic allies in the kingdom of apes. It leads up to Lanka and culminates in Rama playing ludo with Ravana instead of fighting it out on the battlefield. Abanindranath also introduced a certain Chainburho, an old storyteller who went on tickling the funny bones. To his credit, the director made the most of the allegorical framework. Not only did he expose the absurdity in Rama waging war against Ravana, the ludicrous ending made a subtle anti-war statement. The heroic proportions were cut short through effective slapstick situations. The script generously experimented with the Bengali dialects, toyed with stylized forms of delivery reminiscent of jatra. Abundance of music in the traditional kirtan format also worked wonders. The young cast did a smart job.

Every war has its side effects. It not only affects the men in power but the ones in the periphery. Director Sima Mukhopadhyay’s preoccupation with the crisis surfaced once again in Rangroop’s latest production He Mor Debota. Set in medieval Bengal of 1206, the year of the invasion of Turks, the play zeroes down into the life of villagers and raises pertinent questions about the futility of the age-old caste system that complicates the matters even more during a crisis of highest order. Based on a short story by Deborshi Saroghee, the action finds Bhabananda, a certain highborn Brahmin with unflinching faith in divine providence and royal protection, at the centre of the storm. His earnest efforts to restore sanity is countered by an ambitious Chandrabhanu, the leader of the untouchables. Mukhopadhyay’s multi-layered tragic narrative is undercut by politics of oppression and retaliation as power of knowledge is pitted against power of the muscle. The 95-minute play stood tall on the shoulders of Shyamal Chakraborty who essays an ambuguous madman, a cross between Raktakarabi’s Bighu Pagal and King Lear’s Fool. Jayanta Mitra, Debashis Roy Chowdhury gave able support.

How ordinary mortals appropriate the divinity found a comic treatment in Maru-Behag’s production of Shivamangal. Written and directed by Jolly GuhaRoy, this slapstick comedy depicts the reigning deity of rural Bengal as a confirmed womaniser who dupes his devotees, steals sweetmeats from their offerings and feigns speaking with his consort over the cellphone.

Loosely inspired by local traditions, the light-hearted production spiced up by satirical touches never lost sight of the contemporary society. The cast, led by Guharoy herself, did extremely well. Her attempt to portray the horror of Graham Stewart Steines murder in Amritasya Putra, however, failed to achieve much.photographySujoy Das