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Jalsaghar (Bengali, 1958)

Jalsaghar, a film by Satyajit Ray narrates the story of a zamindar (a feudal landowner) who cannot come to terms with his diminished wealth and stature, with devastating consequences.



 

The plot


The film chronicles the decline and fall of zamindar Biswambhar Roy (played by Chhabi Biswas), who has squandered his inherited fortune on a hedonistic lifestyle while neglecting to manage his estate profitably. He resides in a mansion by the riverbank with his wife, Mahamaya (played by Padma Devi), and their son (played by Pinaki Sengupta). Beyond the expense of maintaining a large staff and caring for exotic pets, including an elephant and a horse, Biswambhar indulges in two lavish passions: fine alcohol and live music. His financial imprudence in keeping up appearances befitting the first family of the village causes great consternation to his estate manager Tara Prasanna (played by Tulsi Lahiri).


The center of celebrations in the house is the jalsaghar (literally "celebration room"), a space that serves not only as a venue for live musicians but also as a symbol of Biswambhar's status among the village men, who are invited to evenings steeped in culture and decadence. A thorn in Biswambhar's ego is his neighbor, Mahim Ganguly (played by Gangapada Bose), the son of a local moneylender who has thrived in business and is now acquiring the trappings of success, including a house, an automobile, and an electric connection—a technology still in its infancy. The aristocrat resents the gumption of this nouveau riche man of inferior lineage.


An act of ego precipitates the greatest tragedy in Biswambhar's life. When Mahim invites him to the inauguration of his new home, Biswambhar falsely claims that he has already planned a function that day to celebrate the Bengali New Year. Mahim, in deference to the more important personage in the village, feels compelled to reschedule his ceremony. Biswambhar, now obligated to fund this unplanned event, pawns more of his wife's jewels. However, the true catastrophe unfolds when he summons his wife and son, who are visiting her family, to return for the ceremony. Their boat capsizes in a whirlpool, killing both mother and son.


Financial ruin and personal tragedy do little to quell Biswambhar's ego. Four years after the accident, he lives with a small staff, including his servant Ananta (played by Kali Sarkar) and his estate manager. When he receives an invitation from Mahim, the occasion is doubly painful: the thread ceremony of Mahim's son, which stings Biswambhar's heart, and the inauguration of a jalsaghar in Mahim's home, which wounds his pride. He declines the invitation, citing old age, but arranges a party at his own home the day after Mahim's celebration, hiring the same danseuse as his neighbor. The revival of his jalsaghar brings him into a state of melancholic, drunken euphoria. Ignoring his servant's warnings, he insists on riding his horse, Toofan, leading to an inevitably tragic outcome.


 

Observations


The gilded mask


Feeling superior to others based on an inherited identity (nationality, religion, race) over which one has no control is a common human trait, especially intense in those who lack acquired identities (education, professional accomplishments). Biswambhar not only failed to grow his inherited wealth but also squandered it. Hence, the only thing left to be proud of is his lineage. Akin to the Cheshire Cat, who faded away leaving only his smile, Biswambhar's wealth has vanished, leaving behind only arrogance.


At one point, the zamindar explicitly articulates the belief that fuels his conceit—the noble blood of his forefathers that runs in his veins. When the bank refuses to extend any more loans against pledged securities, he chooses to pawn his wife's jewelry rather than borrow from the local moneylender. It is poignant to see Biswambhar cling to this gilded mask, despite the family tragedy that might have been avoided had he not insisted on his wife returning for the reckless celebration he had organized. Four years after the event, he still insists on sending a gold coin for Mahim's son's thread ceremony—a gift he can ill afford—though now on a bronze plate instead of a silver one, as tradition dictates.


Despite the masks we wear, human intelligence limits our capacity for self-deception. The critiques that wound us most are often those we believe, deep down, to be true about ourselves, and this vulnerability is hard to conceal. When Biswambhar asks Ananta about the house Mahim has built, the loyal servant, after a brief pause, wisely replies that it lacks the elegance of the royal palace.


The winds of change


The scene of Biswambhar's wife departing for her father's home on a palanquin, their son on a horse, and a procession of servants carrying luggage is a powerful image of feudal privilege. However, change is in the air. The film alludes to the twin technological upheavals of electricity and automobiles that are disrupting social hierarchies. The shot of Mahim Ganguly's truck driving down a country road, billowing dust wantonly, as Biswambhar's elephant trudges along slowly, is a lyrical symbol of a languid old order giving way to the impatient new. The upstart Mahim makes his money from modern commerce, including harvesting sand from the riverbank land he leases from the zamindar. Greater profits accrue to those who trade or process the sand in manufacturing than to those who simply sell the raw material. The productivity of the new economy makes him increasingly prosperous, while the land-owning aristocrat, unable to adapt, grows impecunious.


Yet, there is a time-lag for status to catch up with fortune. Mahim bemoans that while people bow when they see a rider on Biswambhar's elephant, his car is pelted with stones because he is a self-made man. To climb the social ladder, he must embrace the customs of old money, including attending musical performances that bore him, as evidenced by his fidgety body language when Durga Bai sings, and eventually inaugurating a jalsaghar in his own home. Mahim is obliged to visit the landlord's home to personally invite him to his son's thread ceremony, possibly because it was conveyed to him that a letter invitation offended the old man. Biswambhar may no longer be rich, but his presence at a social ceremony still carries social capital.


Biswambhar's growing resentment toward the parvenu reaches a climax when he physically stops Mahim from bestowing a gift on the Kathak dancer, haughtily exercising his prerogative as the host to confer the first gratuity.


The scene toward the end of the film, when the two men meet in the dilapidated and sparse courtyard of the once-grand mansion, now hosting stray dogs and pigeons, is a poignant image of the passing of the baton. Biswambhar is not a likable man, but we feel some empathy for him as clinging to transient phenomena for comfort is a human failing, and the punishment fate hands him is brutal. Our heart goes out to him when he asks his estate manager not to sell the horse and the elephant because they were beloved by his dead son.


The music of Jalsaghar


The film is set to a background score composed by doyens of Indian classical music and features three performances by real-life musicians. The first is a song by the character Durgai Bai, portrayed on screen by the legendary singer Begum Akhtar herself. The second song, echoing themes of love, longing, and heartbreak similar to the first, is performed by the character Udir Khan, played by Salamat Ali Khan. The final performance is a Kathak dance recital by the character Krishna Bai, portrayed by Roshan Kumari, one of the foremost exponents of this dance form.


The chandelier


The chandelier in the jalsaghar is a recurring motif that the film begins and ends with, symbolizing both opulence and its ephemeral nature. The first shot of the jalsaghar focuses on the chandelier before moving on to the performers and patrons. The analog luxury of the chandelier lies in its lamps that are flame lit as the home lacks electricity. During Udir Khan's performance, the flickering lamps ominously foreshadow the boat capsizing. Four years after the tragedy, the reopening of the jalsaghar and Ananta's meticulous cleaning of the chandelier suggest that time has somewhat healed the wounds. However, Biswambhar's newfound energy is merely a temporary frenzy of delusion. The image of the flames sputtering before extinguishing in the chandelier’s lamps terrorizes him by bringing back memories of that ill-fated night.


 

Jalsaghar is a charming film that haunts us with its pathos, lyrical imagery and a tour-de-force performance of its protagonist.


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