The world of Antarmahal is dark. The views of the inner chamber ? mostly seen through the tormented eyes of the two women (Borobou Rupa and Chhotobou Soha) ? are stifling in their oppressiveness. Both sexual and social. This is the tale of two women, bound to one man, one fate. Both crave freedom and one finds it, in death.

The bed scenes of Jackie and Soha are tragic, not titillating, and Rupa?s seduction of the sadistic priest full of pathos not pornography. When the zamindar violates his Chhotobou every night, the camera angle remains the same, the bed just keeps on creaking. This reinforces the relentlessness and the rapaciousness. For women then ? and so many now ? there is no respite.

Rupa carries much of the film on her bare shoulders. As the ageing first wife who envies and yet empathises with the younger second wife, every line on her face tells a tale, every gesture draws us into her darkening world. Soha looks the part, as do Jackie and Abhishek. Raima leaves a mark even with the briefest of appearances.

Abhik Mukhopadhyay?s camera is as inert as the lives of the inhabitants, enriching the appeal of Antarmahal.

His most powerful statement on the female predicament yet, Antarmahal stops short of making a more searing socio-political statement.

The effort to camouflage Jackie?s inability to speak the language.

Last word: Rituparno?s most difficult, disturbing and distinguished film.