The midnight song

A review of the critically acclaimed Assamese movie "Maaj Rati Keteki" (2017).

The critically acclaimed movie Dead Poets Society (1989) has a scene that shows English teacher John Keating (Robin Williams) asking his students to rip out the ‘introduction’ chapter from their poetry textbook. In that chapter, the author had tried to measure poetry on a graphical scale while rating it based on two questions. “Excrement! That's what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard! We're not laying pipe! We're talking about poetry. How can you describe poetry like American Bandstand?” This is precisely what comes to mind while speaking or writing about a film as splendid as Maj Rati Keteki. The quality of a movie can neither be measured quantitatively nor can its perspective be described aptly without hurting the total sentiment that it manages to create. It is what it is.

Maj Rati Keteki, written and directed by Santwana Bardoloi, is what one might say, a momentous event in an otherwise uneventful Assamese film industry. Shifting gears from an illustrious actor to a critically appraised director with Adajya (1996) which went on to bag several national awards, Santwana Bardoloi was thought of as a ‘one-‘film wonder’ by critics after she didn’t launch any movie for almost two decades. Maj Rati Keteki seems to have completely justified her break from movie-making.

The film speaks of certain events surrounding a person’s life that ultimately goes on to define who he is. Famous author Priyendu Hazarika (Adil Hussain) comes back to town after several years to attend a couple of lectures, book-signing sessions, and parties. His brief stint there manages to evoke in him a sequence of memories which had shaped his childhood. His encounter with Sumona (Sulakshana Baruah), a fiery young writer bashed up by depressing forces created by business-minded people, and a veteran writer who had greatly influenced Priyendu’s authorship, is a central point of the narrative. Besides this, the story has several other aspects and discussing them here would be a great injustice to this fine movie!

Director Bardoloi has done a commending job with the story and screenplay. Undoubtedly, new standards in case of contemporary Assamese film making have been set about. The narrative is subtly done with Priyendu’s past and present sequences shown skilfully with great ease without disrupting the viewer’s attention. The climax of the scene bears testimony to this fact. Dialogues are a distinguishing character of the movie. Their expert craftsmanship, delicate pauses in sentences and adaptation to emotional aspects is quite visible throughout. It also shows the director’s attention to minute details when it comes to proper accents. The headmaster of the school flipping pages of an old edition Assam Tribune, the school teacher delightfully whirling a homemade top, the comic timing of the dialogue ‘Mekuri. Kukur.’ are some of the intricate details that the director has paid right attention to.

The cast of the movie is very appropriate. Adil Hussain as Priyendu is praiseworthy. The character’s personality is adequately matched by the mild mysteriousness that typically

surrounds Adil. Sulakshana did a fine job as the fervent yet disillusioned writer. Rahul Gautam Sharma and Kasvi Sharma deserves special mention, having executed their roles superbly. The constant twinkling in Kasvi’s eyes is hard to miss. The character Bhola is so wonderfully written about and done, it gives the movie a tinge of Satyajit Ray’s style. Veteran actor Kulada Kumar Bhattacharjee’s appearance in the film is a delightful yet poignant aspect.

Cinematographer Gnana Shekhar V.S. and Editor Ushma Bardoloi have done their part dexterously, their effort clearly visible throughout the film. Award winning music director Anurag Saikia’s background score sufficiently complements the plethora of emotions in the movie without imposing too much on the ears, thus keeping intricate details unharmed.

However, the movie isn’t completely free of snags which aren’t visible readily. To indicate one of them would be Kasvi’s accent. She evidently studies in a vernacular medium school but pronounced ‘English’ or ‘Sanskrit’ too perfectly given that. A school girl during the period shown in the film would probably say ‘Ingraaji’ instead of ‘English’ or ‘Xongoskrit’ instead of ‘Sanskrit’. This hurts the otherwise well-written dialogues of her role. Anurag’s music carried obvious shades of work previously done by composers in the likes of Shantanu Moitra or Pritam Chakraborty. Being an outstanding music maker, he is expected to create music that bears his mark of originality.

If for a moment we consider Mr. Pritchard’s measuring scale, movies may be categorised into two types: those that employ the resources of the theatre and use the camera in order to reproduce, and those that employ the resources of cinematography and use the camera to create. If we are to draw comparisons, a hugely successful movie like Mission China (2017) would score very high in the later while a film like Baandhon (2012) would score great in the former. Frankly speaking, Maj Rati Keteki scores remarkably in both. It is a sculpture so deftly crafted that it never fails to give meaning to feelings that otherwise remain undescribed in people’s lives while at the same time raising beguiling questions that stay unanswered in this epic journey called life. As is mentioned in the movie, the duty of a creator finishes with the creation of a specific piece of art following which it is the job of that piece of art to find its own way. The keteki weeps for people who cannot express their sorrow in words. It will hence stand as a beacon for those trying to find their way through an eerily silent midnight.

About the film
Director: Santwana Bordoloi
Language: Assamese
Written by: Santwana Bardoloi
Cinematography: Gnana Shekar V.S.

Initial release: 27 October 2017
Available on Netflix.