Teejan Bai at Rabindra Sadan. Picture by Sanjoy Chattopadhyaya

A significant number of Bengali theatre groups celebrate their founding days around Nava Varsha. Earlier this week there were at least three organised overlapping festivals, making it a tough choice for people like me wanting to be in three different places on the same evening. Among them, Sanglap Kolkata and Natyarghya took precedence as both have reached their silver jubilees, whereas Swabak had just turned 15. But between Sanglap Kolkata and Natyarghya, the former promised two out-of-town performances (among them the celebrated Teejan Bai, albeit a bit overweight and over the hill these days, ungentlemanly as it may sound), so the die was cast in their favour.

A common thread running through the new works at the festival was a ruler?s tyranny over his people and annexation of neighbouring lands. This subject took the shape of fairy tales ostensibly meant for children in two of the local plays, and the form of reinterpreting canonical drama in two productions from Behrampore that had come down. Looming behind them ? in some cases literally ? was the shadow of Uncle Sam in his quest for global domination. No doubt about a certain President?s mad capers, but I maintain that to always demonise an external force makes an easy scapegoat of an obvious target, allowing us to conveniently sidestep internal flaws, our own tyrannies and injustices.

In Sundaram?s Operation Bhomragarh, dramatist-director Manoj Mitra lampoons the kingdom of Bhomragarh, whose Raja bestows the Bhomra Ratna award annually to family members (thrice to his favourite sister-in-law) and sings classical duets with his concubine. Suddenly, a forest brigand on his payroll kidnaps his beloved white elephant; the government starts an elephant relief fund to raise the ransom, but nobody donates. The adjacent kingdom campaigning against international terrorism steps in militarily, and demands that Bhomragarh virtually sign away its treasury.

The first half offers a rollicking parody of not just our own country but also foreign interventionism. Subsequently, the intensity fades, the story sprawls, and Mitra attempts to conclude it as happily as possible, though even there his princess, introduced rather late, refuses to be given away as a prize to the hero who saved the day. Good singers in the cast make this a musical family entertainment and Mitra himself puts in a characteristically comic act as the king?s disaffected uncle, plus notable farcical turns from Mayuri Ghosh (the concubine) and Biswanath De (the Sardar of Bhomragarh).

Likewise in Sanglap Kolkata?s Bhabam Chalechhe Juddhe, written and directed by Kuntal Mukhopadhyay, an expansionist Raja with horns on his head and weapons of mass destruction gets his comeuppance from a humble barber helped by his donkey. Here, the weakness lies in the introduction of a veritable pantheon from Bengali folklore: the mythical birds Byangama and Byangami, Lalkamal and Nilkamal, Parul-kanya and Behula. An adult fable disguised in fairy-tale clothing runs the double risk of losing children by its complexity and grownups by its simplicity! But what does strike the eye are Koushik Roy?s impersonation of the donkey and Sanchayan Ghosh?s detailed rustic set design.

The avid theatre-going town of Baharampur sent two Indianisations of classic Western tragedies to Calcutta. Ritwik?s Meghabati (from Sophocles? Antigone) fared better than Theatre Berhampore?s Mobarak (based on Shakespeare?s Macbeth) mainly due to the chorus, rendered more dynamic than in Sophocles, thanks to dance workshops by Debkumar Pal. Songs and percussion supported the impact. The director, Gautam Raychaudhuri, adapted it faithfully, but used the common opposition of Antigone representing good and Creon evil. The sisters acquitted themselves with dignity, Ismene (Jhulan Bhattacharya) even upstaging the heroine (Sipra Sen).

The man in the hat returned in Mobarak, set in the Northeast, where the Macbeth figure, a chieftain, kills the Nawab to whom he owes feudal loyalty. Sandip Bhattacharya?s directorial concept seems as cloudy as the Naga hills, making a shadow with a hat responsible for motivating three tribal kingmakers or Karnejop (in lieu of the witches) to incite Mobarak to assassinate and usurp. Two things are politically incorrect: Western bogeymen are not directly involved in fomenting Northeastern separatism; and the tribals are not as naive as depicted here. Sandip Bagchi? script takes further liberties by inserting an unnecessary character who assists Mobarak and then betrays him. Exploitation of indigenous peoples and preserving their ties with nature are important concerns, but superimposing Macbeth on them provides no real answers.