Pather Panchali is the story of a brother and sister growing up in rural Bengal in the 1950s. This is a lovely film, really evocative of place, with the warmth of family and childhood at its heart.
I love how this film depicts childhood. It’s very hard to depict the innocence of childhood while showing children living in the same world we all do, with all the same issues. It’s a very hard balance to strike, but this film does it beautifully. Children understand that they might be poorer than their neighbours, but it doesn’t matter when you all play together. Childhood is where everyone you love is safe, so anything else can be weathered.
Village life in 1950s Bengal is 70 years ago and on the other side of the world from the city of Glasgow, but Pather Panchali makes childhood feel universal, the scenes of bickering with your sister, craking for sweets, not sitting still while you’re meant to be eating your tea, all so identifiable. Sneakily feeding the pets, refusing to get up in the morning, playing tic tac toe, it’s all just part of everyday life.
I loved Durga and Apu, such a loving brother and sister. I loved auld Auntie, singing and rocking the weans, but taking umbrage and storming out when offended, only to come back without capitulation later.
The character I feel sorriest for is Sabrajaya, the mother. Everyone is having an idyllic existence. The kids are happy, Auntie is content telling them stories and singing songs, Harihar the father is a dreamer and an optimist. The only person who worries, who feels the precarity of their world, and the powerlessness of their poverty is her.
Her husband is a scholar and priest, and although they are poor he dreams of being a writer and a playwright. He sees the best in people and takes everyone at their word. He doesn’t press his boss when the wages are late, and doesn’t leave to find work elsewhere when he’s trusts the boss will eventually pay out.
It is left to Sabrajaya to be realistic. It is up to her to be responsible for any possibility. A writer can dream of what might be, but it is the person cooking dinner that knows just how little is left.
It is a realistic film about how gendered the world is too. Durga is set to doing chores before Apu is even born. While he is sent to school to better his chances, Durga is to comb his hair and get him breakfast. While he plays with his friends, she is chastised for not doing more around the house. Sabrajaya cannot afford to be sheltered from life’s responsibilities and she brings her daughter up the same. The film doesn’t simply indulge in this innocent childhood idyll, it shows that it was made and maintained by the women of the family.
Despite never shying away from how class and gender shape Durga and Apu’s lives, it still captures the magic of their world, of picnics beneath the trees, of spooky stories, of pretending to be kings, of running through the long grass, of watching the train go past. Just beautifully capturing a place, a time, a family bound with love.
