I've been asked what my favorite film of all time is. It's a silly question, and the answer might have changed over the years. But I am certain now. It is "Pather Panchali," completed by Satyajit Ray in 1955. Strange that I would settle on an Indian film, since I have specialized all my life in Italian movies and think I know a good deal about them. But no, "Pather Panchali," spoken in Bengali and made on a budget that couldn't buy a coffee break on a major production anywhere today, is my favorite film.
Why? Oh, goodness...because of its poetry, its humanity, its timeless and haunting lyric beauty, its imagery, its powerful portrayal of a family and a culture. I first saw it when I was a senior in high school. I went to the Avon in Providence, where it played for a week in 1959. Overwhelmed, I went three or four times that week. I told people about it but nobody seemed interested. And it's futile even now to promote this film among folks who only respond to graphic action, moronic one-liner comedies, thundering vacuous soundtracks, the vapid melodrama of snakes on planes. "Pather Panchali" means "Song of the Road," and was the first film by its director, made as a total labor of love. He began in 1952 in 16mm, then got financing from the Bengal government to complete the work in 35mm. It took four years, and was shown to great acclaim at Cannes, where it won one of the top awards. It was a radical departure from Indian film convention which has characters breaking out into song every ten minutes, regardless of the story.
The movie was the first of a trilogy Ray completed in a few years. "The Apu Trilogy" is about the life of an idealistic hero. "Pather Panchali" deals with the youth of Apu and his impulsive sister Durga, and the travails of his Brahmin priest father and his worrying mother in the midst of crushing poverty. The second and third parts are "Aparajito" and "The World of Apu." All these classics are highly acclaimed masterpieces and very much liked by discriminating audiences.
"Pather Panchali" turns everyday childhood occurrences into wondrous events, whether it is brother and sister crossing the fields filled with white feathery rushes to see a train in the distance, a pursuit of the candy man, a Hindu feast, the wonders of the natural world, an ancient aunt telling bedtime stories to children. Death interrupts the family twice, taking away young Durga too. The scene in which the long-absent father returns to learn of the death of his daughter is a lacerating wail from the beyond. Apu's concealing forever the suddenly-learned truth of a secret theft by his sister is a moment, once seen, can never be forgotten. In sadness, mother, father, young son move away. The film ends.
Musician-composer Ravi Shankar did the beautiful score. He was a virtual unknown at the time, but I traced down recordings of his music (decades before his legendary Woodstock appearance!) and still listen to them. Ray was influenced by the Italian neo-realists, particularly De Sica in "The Bicycle Thief," which he said bowled him over.
In the mid-90s the films of Ray were restored and reissued to great acclaim, and retrospectives took place everywhere. "Pather Panchali" and the rest of the "Apu Trilogy" are available on video or DVD at libraries and retailers and form the nucleus of any collection of world cinema. It is a shining work of art.
Why? Oh, goodness...because of its poetry, its humanity, its timeless and haunting lyric beauty, its imagery, its powerful portrayal of a family and a culture. I first saw it when I was a senior in high school. I went to the Avon in Providence, where it played for a week in 1959. Overwhelmed, I went three or four times that week. I told people about it but nobody seemed interested. And it's futile even now to promote this film among folks who only respond to graphic action, moronic one-liner comedies, thundering vacuous soundtracks, the vapid melodrama of snakes on planes. "Pather Panchali" means "Song of the Road," and was the first film by its director, made as a total labor of love. He began in 1952 in 16mm, then got financing from the Bengal government to complete the work in 35mm. It took four years, and was shown to great acclaim at Cannes, where it won one of the top awards. It was a radical departure from Indian film convention which has characters breaking out into song every ten minutes, regardless of the story.
The movie was the first of a trilogy Ray completed in a few years. "The Apu Trilogy" is about the life of an idealistic hero. "Pather Panchali" deals with the youth of Apu and his impulsive sister Durga, and the travails of his Brahmin priest father and his worrying mother in the midst of crushing poverty. The second and third parts are "Aparajito" and "The World of Apu." All these classics are highly acclaimed masterpieces and very much liked by discriminating audiences.
"Pather Panchali" turns everyday childhood occurrences into wondrous events, whether it is brother and sister crossing the fields filled with white feathery rushes to see a train in the distance, a pursuit of the candy man, a Hindu feast, the wonders of the natural world, an ancient aunt telling bedtime stories to children. Death interrupts the family twice, taking away young Durga too. The scene in which the long-absent father returns to learn of the death of his daughter is a lacerating wail from the beyond. Apu's concealing forever the suddenly-learned truth of a secret theft by his sister is a moment, once seen, can never be forgotten. In sadness, mother, father, young son move away. The film ends.
Musician-composer Ravi Shankar did the beautiful score. He was a virtual unknown at the time, but I traced down recordings of his music (decades before his legendary Woodstock appearance!) and still listen to them. Ray was influenced by the Italian neo-realists, particularly De Sica in "The Bicycle Thief," which he said bowled him over.
In the mid-90s the films of Ray were restored and reissued to great acclaim, and retrospectives took place everywhere. "Pather Panchali" and the rest of the "Apu Trilogy" are available on video or DVD at libraries and retailers and form the nucleus of any collection of world cinema. It is a shining work of art.