Conceptualised and directed by Sujoy Prosad Chatterjee, an inter-disciplinary artist and actor, the docu-film Spotlight aims to highlight the lost charm of commercial Bengali theatre and how its revival can create a conduit for empathy and a community of support, says Chahak Mittal
On a typical Sunday evening of 1990s in the then Calcutta, the streets of Hatibagan were spilling with people and there was no place to park the car. The reason was not far to be sought. The seven theatre houses surrounding the street were holding their public premieres, the tickets of which sold out quickly. The auditoriums were decorated with flower garlands and some playhouses even distributed sweets. Sujoy Prosad Chatterjee had gone to watch Bhaalo Kharap Meye that starred the much-acclaimed Aparna Sen in the lead. His father, “a typical South Calcutta man,” always found it difficult to park his car in the rather congested theatre alley. His mother walked out of the car to speak to the box-office person and she managed to get the tickets. “How did you do that?” asked Sujoy with a surprised look. Well, she said, “Look, I am a North Calcutta-bred girl. I may not speak like your father but I do carry an artsy smile!” The three burst into a hearty laugh and together walked into the Biswarupa theatre.
Cut to today, when one takes a walk through the area, the erstwhile ‘Theatre Para’ or the ‘Broadway of Bengal,’ one is only met by the dilapidated abandoned playhouses that line the streets of North Kolkata. From the 1970s till the late 1990s, these theatres were very popular. These cultural spaces thrived on making a difference, yet held on to a unique tradition. However, their decline came by soon. Actors would be greeted by empty halls, producers started facing great losses, the funds saw crunches, the TV era had hugely set in. Later, in early 2000s, while Rangmahal (a theatre house in then Calcutta) was converted into a wedding hall, mysterious fires gutted halls like Star Theatre and consumed the remains of Biswarupa. Perhaps, the fires, ironically, meant the decline of this once-famed culture of the city.
Sujoy’s docu-film Spotlight reflects on how moving from the big stage to the little screen, it is now more important than ever to realise the power of theatre and how it can create a conduit for empathy, be nudged towards compassion for the downtrodden, and be constituted as a community of support.
Excerpts:
How did you conceptualise the film?
My Montreal-based friends Abhishek Ghosh and Shyamosree Ghosh and I have been hugely interested in cultural archiving and we have been thinking of many ideas to approach this.
Meanwhile, I had also been reading The Firebird by Saikat Majumdar and found it quite intriguing. The book, told through the perspective of a 10-year-old boy named Ori, looks at the heydays of the commercial Bengali theatre and its subsequent death. What’s interesting is that the narrative touches upon the heritage through the eyes of a boy whose mother was a part of it. I think this was primarily the muse of Spotlight, the docu-narrative that I have conceptualised.
What was the research work involved? How long did it take for you to complete the film?
The research and the build-up has been done by a young theatrician, Rudrarup Mukhopadhyay. I, too, contribute often and it’s been a month that we are trying to collate as much as we can. A very important part of this research is the posters, advertisements, lobby cards of the plays, which have been provided by Sounak Chacraverti, an acclaimed art curator and archivist. I am also speaking to a lot of insiders and audience for the documentation.
What do you think was the cause of Broadway of Bengal’s decline and how have you reflected that in your film?
The main cause of the decline is the paradigm shift in the pattern of entertainment. Going to the theatre for a Sunday matinee and catching the evening train back was an important practice for the audience who lived in the hinterland. People were willing to pay to watch a Sabitri Chatterjee or a Soumitra Chatterjee play within the social distance of the proscenium. The idiot box or the television began showcasing these actors with regular viewing in soaps and, of course, the whole experience of going to a playhouse became secondary, gradually.
The crunch for funds became a pertinent reason too. Theatre producers never had an organised cartel and what spelled the doom finally was the rise of multiplexes. I think the government also did nothing absolutely to preserve or support this very important part of our cultural history. Can I say that theatre was also not a “social responsibility” for corporates?
In the film, what we have reflected through the interview of contemporary theatre practitioner Sohag Sen, is the birth of an alternative theatre movement that drove the audience to the Academy of Fine Arts.
The documentary features many known thespians and actors with whom the youngsters would connect better. Do you think this will help them know the Bengali theatre’s essence in a more nuanced way?
Well, I’d say, yes and no, both. Heritage doesn’t require celebrity endorsements. I had requested actor Neeraj Kabi to read from The Firebird in the film because of his artistry and not just his stint in the reel world. But yes, if today a millennial watches the film and buys a copy of the book after hearing Neeraj, no harm is done.
Another interesting aspect is that we have the legendary Soumitra Chatterjee and theatre actress Poulami Bose reading the play, Neelkantho, that ran to packed houses in Rangmahal.
We also have Ratna Ghoshal reading from Nohobot, which ran for 1,600 nights in Tapan Theatre. She had essayed the central character Keya, in the play, directed by the veteran Satya Bandopadhyay.
I think today’s generation of young actors can also look forward to thespian Bratya Basu, who has done the prologue for the film. We have actually used a clipping from his popular play, Awddyo Shesh Rajani, based on the life and times of Ashim Chakraborty. His play, Barbodhu is a pivotal point in the history of the Broadway of Bengal. Daminee Benny Basu also sings the closing song from the play.
Given today’s scenario, what do you think is the future of theatres since social distancing and self-quarantine are here to stay for some time now?
I have been myself a part of an online play, Lockdown Diaries, directed by Souptic Chakraborty and will soon be acting in its sequel called Unlockdown Diaries, which will be streamed online on June 14.
The first edition turned out to be hugely successful and that’s why the sequel was planned. Yes, we have to think of digital productions keeping in mind the pandemic but the struggle for the other people in theatre fraternity still remains unsorted.
Many light designers have resorted to selling vegetables and casual workers are looking for alternative professions to earn their livelihood. The future looks bleak unless we move into the intimate format completely with select audience.
How do you think theatre will be able to fight the current pandemic because such places might be shut for a long time?
I sincerely pray and hope that theatres open, maintaining the safety protocol and the sanitisation. It’s too early to say that the future belongs to the digital space completely. Yes, it can be explored as an interim option but how can one experience the illusions of darkness and light on the stage on the internet? The third bell pumps up an actor’s adrenaline and the applause from a live audience is a moment that can never be replaced by 2,000 likes and 100 comments.
Many world theatres have now brought the stage home for people through online shows. Do you think Broadway of Bengal might have the chance to revive itself digitally now?
The Broadway cannot be enlivened digitally. One can talk about it and even share videos of legends. I would like to mention here that Theatre Sansriti, led by Debesh Chattopadhyay, is doing some phenomenal archive work by sharing documentaries on Bengali theatre legends like Ramaprasad Banik, Tripti Mitra, Utpal Dutta, Asit Mukhopadhyay and the likes, who were essentially a part of the alternative theatre movement that the intelligentsia adhered to. There’s practically nothing on the Broadway.
You had earlier mentioned that you have experienced a large part of this Broadway and have a trove of memories. Could you share some of your personal anecdotes associated with the theatres in Bengal?
Oh yes! My maternal home was in the northern fringes of Calcutta, precisely Beadon Street. This was very close to the theatre district. I remember the huge cut-outs of characters from plays like Asleel, Bibor, Kone Bibhrat and many others right at the junction of the street. My maternal grandmother had a deep interest in plays and she used to organise complimentary passes for us to watch the premieres.
(The film will release on Youtube by the channel, GhoshCompany.)