By Herojit Nongmathem
The experience began in the first week of September 2010. The monsoon’s presence and the cool grounds of the Manipur State Film Development Society (MSFDS) created a fitting atmosphere. As a film journalist with a deep connection to Manipur’s cinema, after founding and editing the film monthly Mamigee Taibang in 1996, and a proud member of the Manipur Film Journalist and Critics Association since 2000, a conversation with filmmaker Haobam Paban Kumar sparked an idea. He was, and remains, a key figure in Manipuri independent cinema, alongside Meghachandra Kongbam. It was in this setting that Paban Kumar mentioned his experience at a Film Appreciation Course in Pune. That suggestion started a journey.
A month later, from October 11th to 22nd, 2010, the “Cine Correspondent Course” in Pune, organized by the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII) and the National Film Archives of Indi (NFAI), was attended. This was a prestigious course for film journalism. The course faculty included experts in Indian cinema studies and practice. The course’s intensity was matched by its revealing nature. Each day, three films were screened, followed by discussions led by the faculty, encouraging a deeper understanding of cinematic art.
It was during this course that Ritwik Ghatak’s Meghe Dhaka Tara (The Cloud-Capped Star) was first encountered. The year 2010 marked the film’s 50th anniversary, a fact fully appreciated later, but even then, something profound resonated. Having arrived in Pune steeped in the cinematic environment of Manipur, nurtured by film societies and figures like K. Ibohal Sharma, R.K. Bidur, and Hijam Romani Singh, the film was unlike anything seen before. Its stark portrayal and raw emotions lingered. After completing the course, the film was watched again and again.
Over a decade later, the film’s power still captivates. It compels a deeper look into its unique style, blending Realism, Melodrama, and Myth, which was, and remains, uniquely Ritwik Ghatak. According to ResearchGate, the film, though fictional, documents the partition’s struggle [1].
Realism: The unflinching gaze at a fractured reality
Meghe Dhaka Tara is grounded in social realism, reflecting post-Partition Bengal. Though the partition isn’t explicitly mentioned, its aftermath—the refugee camps, the struggle for survival, and the erosion of the middle-class dream—is evident. The set of Nita’s home was modeled on photographs of an actual refugee colony. This naturalism is complemented by the realism of shooting on locales for the grocery shop in the nearby street, according to FemAsia Magazine [2]. Ghatak’s camera portrays the family’s poverty and the demands on Nita. The small house, cramped conditions, and everyday anxieties are presented with a naturalist’s eye. Ghatak also uses natural sound and editing, as noted by Boloji [3]. This realism is a statement on the socio-historical conditions that shaped these lives.
Melodrama: The language of suffering and the weight of the human heart
Ghatak embraced melodrama to express the emotional turmoil of his characters. For viewers accustomed to naturalist performances, the overt acting in Meghe Dhaka Tara, particularly by the mother and father, can initially be jarring. The mother’s dramatic acting and expressionistic reactions are cases in point. But this exaggeration conveys the suffering and suppressed emotions of people caught in economic hardship and societal apathy. Nita’s quiet endurance, punctuated by intense emotional release, is the essence of Ghatak’s melodramatic vision. The “lashing” sound effect amplifies her internal agony, shattering conventional realism. Ghatak uses melodrama with the same deliberation as dramatic coincidence, according to Sabzian [4]. A research paper on melodrama in Ghatak’s cinema notes that he perceived the future through the eyes of the newborn, which elevates the film to optimism [5].
Myth: Archetypes and the enduring spirit
Meghe Dhaka Tara is steeped in myth and archetypes. Nita, in her dedication to her family, becomes a figure like Durga or Uma, embodying the nurturing feminine principle. The opening shot presents the invocation of the Mother through Shankar’s recital of Raga Hamshadhwani, sung in praise of the Mother, according to The Criterion: An International Journal in English [6]. The film evokes the mythical imagery of the divine mother, sacrificing herself for her children. The recurring imagery of the stagnant pond and the train also take on symbolic weight. Nita’s cry, “I want to live, Dada, I want to live!” from the sanatorium, echoes a yearning for life and dignity, according to Research Journal of Humanities and Social Sciences [7]. It taps into a primal human desire.
A lasting impression
Watching Meghe Dhaka Tara again, particularly through the lens of the FTII course and an evolving understanding of cinema, reinforces its status as a masterpiece. Ghatak’s blend of realism, melodrama, and myth creates a cinematic language that is both stimulating and moving. According to Dustedoff, the film leaves a lingering feeling of having witnessed something profound [8]. The lessons learned and the emotions stirred are a reminder of the power of true cinematic art. As a film journalist, it’s a privilege to revisit such a work and share its brilliance.