Why we should look beyond Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali when it comes to Indian cinema on a global scale

TIME Magazine recently released a list of 100 Best Movies of the past 10 decades. Compiled by the magazine’s film critic Stephanie Zacharek, it starts from the 1920s, the first entry being the cornerstone of German Expressionism The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. It is followed by some Best-film-list regulars like the Carl Theodor Dreyer’s haunting historical The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928), Alfred Hitchcock’s pacy spy-thriller The 39 Steps (1935) and Jean Renoir’s satire of the French upper class La Regle du jeu (The Rules of the Game (1939). There are uncommon picks too like Orson Welles’s The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) or Michael Curtiz’s Mildred Pierce (1945) and also some blasphemous omissions like Citizen Kane (1941), Casablanca (1942) and Sunset Boulevard (1950). In an explainer on how she chose the films, Setephanie confesses, “The days I had to cut films like Alien, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World… weren’t happy ones.”

But, just like many film critics before her, Stephanie couldn’t resist listing Pather Panchali (Song of the Little Road, 1955). It isn’t the first time Satyajit Ray’s pathbreaking debut is the only Indian film that made the cut in a world cinema listing. Last year, Sight and Sound’s list of Greatest Films of All Time also featured the film as the only Indian representative. It has also been named as the best Indian film of all time by the International Federation of Film Critics (FIPRESCI). Thirty of Variety’s critics, writers and editors compiled another “greatest movies” list, no prizes for guessing which homegrown film got featured.

Now, there is no denying that Pather Panchali is a great film, probably one of the greatest to come out of the subcontinent. I also understand why critics keep circling back to it. Ray’s depiction of Indian poverty through the eyes of a young Apu and his sister Durga has an innocence that resonates universally. In 1955, when it was released, it broke the notions of an Indian film. Firstly, it did away with song and dance sequences and thus appealed better to western sensibilities. It also used pure imagery and not didactic dialogue to express emotions. It was shot on location, with mostly non-actors and on a shoestring budget (At one point during the shoot the crew didn’t even have funds to buy lunch). Ray’s The Story of Apu and Durja is a pure film-film which has appealed to cinemagoers for years, but not looking beyond it presents a myopic view of Indian cinema. Thus, we decided to come up with a list of films which we think deserve more global recognition. It should be noted that this isn’t an exhaustive list and is open to arguments and inclusions by our readers.

Neecha Nagar, 1946 (Director: Chetan Anand)

The only Indian film to win the coveted Palme d’or, Neecha Nagar is a poignant tale of class struggle. It tells the story of the residents of ‘Neecha Nagar’ (Neecha means lower but can also be construed as lowly, downtrodden) and their protests against a capitalist of the affluent ‘Uncha Nagar’ who wishes to divert a sewage line to Neecha Nagar. It is one of the earliest films which marked the shift to social realism in Indian cinema. Although the film never saw a release in India owing to the country’s British occupation at the time (it had themes of boycotts and civil disobedience), it remains a classic Marxist tale of the tussle between the bourgeoisie and the proletariats.

Kaagaz Ke Phool, 1959 (Director: Guru Dutt)

Although Dutt’s Pyaasa found global acclaim, sadly only after the director’s untimely demise, we think Kaagaz Ke Phool deserves equal recognition. Dutt’s reflection on the fleeting glitter of the film world was ahead of its time and bombed at the box office at the time of its release. The story of a film director and his muse, Kaagaz Ke Phool had autobiographical undertones from Dutt’s personal life. It also is an intimate study of depression, obsessions, doomed dreams and the curse of creativity. The film left Dutt and his production house in shatters and he never returned to the director’s chair but it still retains its haunting appeal.

Pratidwandi, 1970 (Director: Satyajit Ray)

Pratidwandi is a riveting tale of youth and their desires. It tells the tale of a 25-year-old man Siddhartha (Dhritiman Chatterjee), his struggles with unemployment and his battle with the changing landscape of 70s Kolkata. Ray’s protagonist is torn between two ideologies, represented by his siblings: a sister who is climbing the corporate ladder by having an affair with her superior and a brother who is into student politics and still believes in the elusive dream of equality for all. Although Ray’s Apu trilogy finds its space in almost every film list, Pratidwandi is a great introduction to the director’s Calcutta trilogy which also contains notable works like Seemabaddha, 1971 and Jana Aranya, 1976.

Aakrosh, 1980 (Director: Govind Nihalani)

The debut directorial of acclaimed director Shyam Benegal’s longtime cinematographer, Aakrosh is a raw, sharp incision into the systemised corruption that plagues our society and the plight of tribals and scheduled castes. Starring Naseeruddin Shah as a vociferous and disappointed lawyer fighting a lost battle, the film might be too bleak for some viewers but it presents an ugly, indigestible portrayal of how the underprivileged are pushed by our systems to the brink of violence. Also, Om Puri might be the only actor who could convey so much without even a word of dialogue.

Masoom, 1983 (Director: Shekhar Kapoor)

Although Kapoor constantly gets hailed at the altar of legendary directors for Bandit Queen, 1994, his sweet tale of a family toppled after the husband’s love-child comes to live with them, deserves a mention. Touted as a children’s film, Masoom is also a tender peep into a marital relationship. The film has a looming melancholy and an endearing innocence. Also, its songs have Gulzar’s timeless lyrics.