The film starts with a sillouhete of a woman crooning Rabindrasangeet looking towards the vast expanse of the sea. The camera starts following closer, is it the eternal agony of a woman or the longing for somebody.
The protagonist of the film is divided in its plethora of scenes and it’s really important to note that the film questions fidelity against the normative structure of the society.
Its Mandarmoni where the couple goes for a getaway. There is subtle voluptuous tension at the breakfast table where Prasenjit asked her about the bruise on her (Chandreyee) finger, her fascination about orchids and especially her pining for a similar getaway to the forest with him.
On the other side Konkona plays Prasenjit’s wife, runs to the hospital after a call from the police station. Their car met with an accident while returning from Mondarmoni.
Parambroto and Pallabi plays Konkona’s friends, who help her through the entire episode.
Chandreyee dies after the accident. The entire turmoil of Konkona going through husband’s infidelity is captured well specially when she cries on her own and the time she calls Prosenjit’s brother and tells him to handle the rest of it.
Kinkona’s skills are the heart beats of the film and the layering of her character trying to cope with her ego and her husband’s philandering, is a masterpiece.
In any case after the introductory stun, as she tries to get down to the business of continuing with her life, we see a more mind boggling, human side to her. There’s additionally a subplot including two of her companions who are in an extramarital issue of their own – their discussions about the clash between adoration and security help light up the way of the relationship between Kaberi’s (Kankona) husband and his fancy woman, additionally serve as a differentiation to it. What’s more most telling are Kaberi’s cooperations with the dead lady’s spouse, who is at first truly insensitive himself (he coolly hands her a case of condoms that he found in his wife’s pack after the mishap – “she won’t be requiring them now, however your spouse may”) yet who later indicates the disappointments of an absolutely feeble man – unable even to stand up to his wife the way Kaberi can face her spouse.
This may would appear that an effortless correlation, particularly to the individuals who are more acquainted with Bengali film than I am (what I’ve seen has basically been restricted to movies by four or five of the best-known executives), however numerous components in Rituparno’s movies help me to remember Satyajit Ray’s best qualities as a movie producer: the decorating of a clear account with fundamental motion picture making devices – a constraining script, incredible acting, tight altering – and above all else, the capacity to relate to the circumstances of numerous distinctive characters. (Beam broadly said once that reprobates didn’t engage him, and a great deal of Dosar’s energy hails from the distinguishment that the most noticeably bad qualities on perspective here are essential human failings that any of us are powerless against.) Incidentally Dosar is shot in excellent dark and white, which may be an alternate motivation behind why it helped me to remember Ray’s initial work. (There was a touch of Charulata in the last scene, with its insight of acknowledgement or reconciliation.)
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