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(indistinct chatter)
- You’re Ranjan? - Yes
-From "The Statesman"? -Yes, sir.
Come in.
Sit.
I...
- Want tea? - No, it's okay.
Mita, a cup of tea.
Make it two.
Tell me.
I write features for "The Statesman".
I know.
Arani told me.
I'm writing about Calcutta.
The New Year.
So, I thought the readers would like to know...
what you like about the city.
An article about me?
No, it’s on Calcutta. Its people.
It's...
I've talked to a lot of different people.
Who did you interview?
Well...
Shopkeepers, office goers, rickshaw pullers, taxi drivers.
I've also met some theatre people.
I thought if I could have an important person in my story.
Why do you like this city?
Have you seen my films?
Well...
Not many.
But, yeah...
I've seen "Calcutta 71" on VHS.
- For the interview? - Yeah.
I mean...
I know you.
- How was it? - What?
"Calcutta 71".
It’s nice. It’s beautiful...
It’s fantastic.
It's... It's...
I’m sorry.
I should’ve watched more.
Actually, I thought...
I just need two lines from you.
I hate Calcutta. I love Calcutta.
I’m excited about Calcutta. I'm disappointed with Calcutta.
I’m irritated with Calcutta. I'm fascinated about Calcutta.
Calcutta is my Eldorado!
(title track)
The French subtitles of my film cannot be very literal.
It's...
My actors are talking so much.
What’s the French for Little?
Peu.
I see.
The subtitles have be brief.
What is the title in Bengali?
"Ek Din Protidin. "
In English, it's "And Quiet Rolls The Dawn".
Great.
- Let me check if coffee is ready. - Sure.
Read your article last year.
It was nice.
Thank you.
What’re you doing now?
Sorry, I forgot to introduce.
Ranjan Dutt.
He’s a very talented actor.
Thank you.
He’s staging a play by Jean Paul Sartre in Bengali.
Ranjan, you know Kunal?
Yes, of course.
- Was Marquis De Sade dyspeptic? - What?
Why are you stumbling with your dialogues?
Why are you so bloody pathetic?
What do you mean?
- I've had enough! - Enough of what?
Haven’t you seen Marlon Brando or Al Pacino?
Why do I even show you so many movies?
Bloody hell!
- Oh God! - Stop abusing!
Is this a play by Peter Weiss or a dance drama?
Nonsense!
Marquis De Sade was a volatile antisocial!
He wrote against the establishment.
- He was accused of writing porns. - Listen up.
He spent his last years in an asylum.
He staged a play on French revolution with lunatic.
Do you realise?
Lunatics discussed a revolution.
In September when the Carmelite Convent was burning...
I saw the nuns running.
I saw them carry...
the severed genitals of men!
And when the tumbrels ran to scaffolds...
The blade of the guillotine...
was gory with blood.
From that day...
the meaning of revolution drained out from me.
It became mechanical.
And now I can see where your revolt is leading, Marat.
The individual is withering away.
Everyone is behaving the same way.
There's no choice.
And the individual is dead.
When you say this I'll hit the audience below the belt.
Specially the Bengali Communists.
Why do you think I'm staging this play?
Only for money?
Who do you have a problem with?
It’s not you. So, you shut up!
But Shubho is not Sade! He’s a CPIM supporter.
What does that have to do with the play?
Peter Weiss was a communist.
Do you know that?
Yet why did he write this play?
Tell me.
You expect us to emote just like you?
Not me! You've to act like Al Pacino!
Why do I show you so many movies?
Shise!
Stop cussing in German. It hurts more.
Say something.
It’s S**t! We’re doing s**t here!
Stop this play at once!
It's funded by the CIA!
(indistinct screaming)
(indistinct chatter)
What did Max Mueller say?
I'm asking you a question.
What did Max Mueller say?
They know that we won’t get a decent auditorium.
We jumped off the stage into the public...
I hate this blooming city.
So?
Roland Hoffner is getting
a garage for us to perform.
And you drank with him?
He’s the director of Max Mueller Bhavan.
He’s going out of his way to help us.
He’s trying to get me to Germany. You know that.
Ranjan.
Yes, Father?
Tell Ranjan that Arani from "The Statesman" called.
Director Kunal Sen is looking for Ranjan.
He doesn’t know Ranjan has left the job.
Okay.
Kunal Sen?
The guy who made "Calcutta 71"?
Huh?
Hello. Kunal Sen speaking.
Hello.
I'm late.
Are you looking for me?
Ranjan?
Did you take my interview?
Yes.
What’s your plan tomorrow?
I have to attend the rehearsal.
Where?
Max Mueller Bhavan.
I'll reach there. What's the time?
Around 3:00 p. m.
I'll reach there.
We're the same, Marat.
Both of us are anti-socials and extremists.
I’m not an extremist like you, De Sade.
Against nature’s silence I wage war.
In the vast indifference, I invent a meaning.
I'm not a silent spectator.
I intervene.
I protest against against misdeeds.
I try to change.
The most important thing is
to pull yourself by your own hair.
To turn yourself upside down.
And see the whole world with fresh eyes.
Great! Brilliant! Very good.
I took your director’s permission and came here.
So...
Can I talk to him for a while?
-Yes, sir. -Why not?
Come along, Ranjan.
Put your pants on.
S**t!
Want to smoke?
No, It's okay.
You smoke weed, huh?
No, I’m fine.
Will you act in my film?
Why not?
Why yes?
I mean, of course I’ll do.
Where are we going?
To my house. It’s nearby.
Your rehearsal is over, right? It won't take long.
This film will be very different from my earlier films.
I mean, the famine film.
Yes. I’ve found my actor.
Yes.
We will start next week.
Yes.
That's enough.
Put some oil and comb it.
Eliane, let’s target for Venice.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
I’ll talk to Carlo and send him a fax.
Okay?
Okay.
Yes, Mita is fine.
Okay.
Now just...
Great!
- Bibhash. - Yeah.
Get my son’s pyjamas and make him wear it.
Now?
- I have to take pictures. - Okay.
Hello. Kunal Sen here speaking.
Mita, come and see your son.
Good Lord. He’s scared to death.
Ranjan here's your tea.
Give it to me.
- You're staging a play, right? - Yeah.
- When? - Tomorrow.
And you cut off his hair?
S**t!
Uff!
You relax.
I’ve made a mess.
Take your tea, Bibhas.
Yes.
You’re looking great.
We’re shooting from next week.
So, I just did a quick look test.
Jean Paul Marat had syphilis.
- Doesn’t syphilis cause hair fall? - No,
Sorry, it's cancer.
Don’t worry. You're looking smart.
The audience won't get it.
Swear by my eyes!
Change your clothes.
Bibhash, we've to go out.
Cigarette?
From now on you are Dipu.
Who’s Dipu?
My hero! You're playing it.
What does he do?
He writes articles on Calcutta like you.
Put your shoes on.
Dipu has been told by to write a story by in a renowned newspaper.
He is searching for the story.
Get it?
He is searching for it everywhere.
You won't run away, right?
No.
It took me a long time to find you.
But Dipu is from a lower middle class family.
So, I cut your hair and made you look like him.
Come on. Stop crying.
No.
- It's okay. - Listen.
From tomorrow stop speaking in English.
And no shrugging and mumbling.
Ask me why.
Because Dipu doesn’t do that.
Great.
I'll give you 5000 rupees.
One thousand advance.
Rest after the shoot.
Okay?
Yeah.
Okay.
Arani told me you believe in method acting.
He was praising you.
So, no more English from tomorrow.
Don’t feel bad.
Can I get a script?
Don’t bother about the script.
Just do what I tell you. Mita will play your mom.
You’re a smart fellow. It’ll be easy for you.
Are you hungry, Ranjan? Want fried flat breads?
No, It's fine.
Bye.
Don’t run away.
I hate this blooming city.
Didn't ask for my permission.
It’s my hair, after all.
But he’s Kunal Sen. And It’s the main role.
You’re actually looking nice.
I'll go to Germany.
I’ll definitely go to Berlin.
There’ll be a tram coming.
- From Shyambazar. - Hmm.
Sumanta will be at the footboard.
He's my assistant. You know him?
Yeah.
You’ll get up.
Then turn left. One, two...
Sit in the second row.
Then do as I say.
But don’t look in front.
Madhavan will be there.
- There. Know him? - Hmm.
Don't look in front.
Then you’ll do as I say.
- Give it to me. - Dialogue?
No dialogues.
So, what will you do?
Get up on the tram. Sit in the second row.
Hmm.
Absolutely. Best of luck.
Sumanta, let's go.
Nonsense!
What’s the time?
Do I look like a blooming clock?
Is that a holy thread then?
Idiot!
Shise!
Ticket.
- Where to? - Dharamtalla.
Here.
Put it in your mouth.
Start chewing.
Like a chewing gum.
Swallow it.
Cut! Excellent.
- Isn't it great? - Hmm.
Great! Now spit it it out.
- But I've swallowed it. - What?
Water.
Puke, try harder
Haven’t you puked?
Strange!
Water?
No problem. You'll digest it.
Sumanta, bring him to the location.
Feeling unwell?
Come on, hurry up.
Madhavan.
Should we start with Mita and Ranjan?
The weather looks good.
Should we shoot the taxi sequence?
Now?
Tarak, stop the car.
Where’s Ranjan’s pajama and kurta?
In our car.
Get it. Fast.
Okay.
Ratan.
- Thirty five lens. - Yeah.
- And a fresh magazine. - Okay.
Fast.
Get off the car! Fast.
Feeling unwell?
- No. - Okay.
We’ll shoot the taxi sequence.
Run for a taxi.
Madhavan will follow you. Okay?
Ever ran for a taxi?
Yeah.
Great! You’re really good in the tram sequence.
Sumanta will get your costume.
Change in this lane.
You aren't shy, right?
Bye. Get ready.
Get it, Sumanta.
Open the dicky.
Come on.
Give it to me.
Keep moving.
Taxi!
Faster.
Keep calling.
Taxi!
Faster.
Taxi...
Taxi!
Carry on.
Taxi!
Taxi...
(indistinct chatter)
Why didn’t you tell me you’ll be late?
I’m waiting here with the whole unit.
Why didn't you inform me?
But we shot more sequences.
No, Kunal. This can't go on.
He's a newcomer.
And we don't have permission to shoot in a tram.
Can't take risks.
You've never cared about others.
Mita is also there.
Why do make a scene?
I’m your production manager. Not your wife.
Has Madhavan eaten?
He’s drinking beer. I’ll give him some yoghurt.
And others?
Everyone’s eaten. You have your lunch.
Have you eaten?
I'm not hungry. How long will you shoot?
- Why are you so grumpy? - I’m not grumpy.
Oh.
Your cigarettes.
- Is the food alright? - Yes.
He ate up a ticket this morning.
What? Need medicine?
No, he’ll be fine.
Have you taken your medicine?
God! Forgot.
This is why I lose my temper.
Have it. Do you have it?
- Yeah. - Hmm.
It's full of matchsticks.
Where is it? Here. Found it.
Come on.
Open your mouth.
Here.
Have it.
(indistinct chatter)
Eat up.
Sumanta.
Do you like it?
Yeah.
Then why do you look sad?
You’re doing well.
You’re not afraid to face the camera.
But I don’t know the story.
Yet you’re acting so well.
Will knowing the story help?
Yeah.
How?
The scene about the dirty courtyard...
Everyone suddenly cleaned it.
Dipu looks for a story in it.
Or the scene of the coal theft...
And the roadside fortune teller...
How they gradually build the graph of my character?
Bull! There’s no gradual graph.
It’s erratic. Like this city.
How do you like Calcutta?
It's okay.
Oh, you’re from Darjeeling. That’s better, isn't it?
Yeah.
Why? What’s the problem with Calcutta?
It’s hot. Dirty. Polluted.
Everyone’s selfish.
No one really listens to others.
They can’t accept anything new.
When I first came to this city
I was affronted by it’s sheer bigness!
The chaos!
I was of your age back then.
Then I fell in love with the city.
But that was a different era. It can’t be the same now.
Look.
It has changed.
The colour of cars have changed.
A lot of high-rises have come up.
Names of streets have changed.
The government has changed.
Back then...
The National Library was called Imperial Library.
Hey, Bibhas.
Stop it.
This is all that’s changed.
But...
Have the books in the library changed?
Has he fun of chaos changed?
Fun of chaos?
You’re looking good with your hair shortened.
Thanks you.
Leave it.
It's okay.
Look to your right.
What were your lines in your play.
To pull yourself by own your hair...
To turn yourself upside down...
And look at the world with fresh eyes.
Was your play stopped?
Yes, by communists.
They find it pervert.
And you hate Communists.
I believe in the right of the individual.
Not the collective?
Not in any party at least.
Left or Right, all parties are finally about power.
And power doesn’t allow the voice of the individual.
What Sartre wrote in his plays...
But Sartre supported the Maoists.
And that’s why Camus went against him.
Many in Sorbonne movement went against Sartre.
Do you know all this?
I've read a little.
Everyone cannot be the same.
Their needs differ. Their views can differ.
Stalin said, from quantity to quality. Is it possible?
How can quantitative change lead to qualitative change?
Nonsense!
You tell me.
There's a chaos in your house because of a dirty courtyard.
Someone is slipping.
Everyone is fighting over it.
Suddenly they all get together and clean it up in frustration.
What happens?
Quality of the courtyard improves?
Who does it?
An individual or a collective?
Or is the scene bad?
Should I throw it out?
Think about it.
Sumanta, cleaning scene...
(song playing)
Come... Come on.
Come.
Cut!
How’s it?
Not bad.
Rubbish!
Why were you walking like an idiot?
The cars wouldn't have run over you.
Cars run over people, sir. He's a continuity artist.
That’s not the point.
Continuity artiste my foot!
Al Pacino!
Does Al Pacino walk like an idiot on the road?
Idiot!
Have supper before leaving.
No, it’s okay.
Nothing is okay.
Working throughout the day.
Having nothing but weed.
I'm making chicken.
Want some tea? Kunal does.
You’ve also been working all day.
I’m used to it.
Want to say something?
You’re a great actress.
You too.
Kunal da may shout at you.
But he always praises you.
How’s your wife, Nanda?
She’s fine. Teaching in a college.
Pass me the sugar.
Sure.
Please open the lid. It’s too tight.
- Sorry. - Goodness!
Now I have to clean the floor.
Useless!
Go, get out!
Chat with Kunal.
Uff!
It’s a film about Calcutta.
And I’ve found a new actor.
Yes.
The film will ready in two months.
With the subtitles.
Yeah.
Yes, yes.
It’s turning out to be a comedy.
The actor is brilliant.
Yeah, I’ll tell Eliane to send you a fax.
Yeah.
Are you fine?
Mita is fine.
Yeah. Thank you.
Here...
I think one of these are yours.
Where did I keep it?
This is probably yours.
What’re you reading?
Pasolini. "Oedipus Rex". Film script.
Give it to me.
Take it.
Read it. You’ll like it.
Is it a gift?
Come in, Sheela.
Come. Sit.
How’re things?
You’ve plucked your eyebrows again?
Ranjan, you know her?
Yeah. Seen her in "Akaler Sandhane".
You know Ranjan, Sheela?
Yeah. Everyone’s saying he’s good.
I need you to play a small role.
I know. Extra.
I enjoy when you’re on the sets.
Then you could’ve given me the neighbour’s sister’s role.
That’s being played by girl in Ranjan’s group.
- She's very natural. - Hmm.
Mitali.
And you've cast me only in a dream sequence.
I'll give you the main role in my next film.
Swear by my eye.
What a bluffer!
I’ll go meet Mita.
So many boxes you’ve swiped!
Hey, check if one of these is yours.
Stop plucking your eyebrows.
She has been the heroine in three of your films.
So?
How can you cast her in a dream sequence?
Won’t you ever act in a small role in my film?
Will you go to Germany?
Won't you work with me?
I don’t want to lose this opportunity.
I...
I don’t like Calcutta.
Because everyone’s a communist?
Have dinner and then go.
No, they’ll wait for me at home.
I'll have dinner.
Really?
What?
Will they really wait for you?
Really?
You were shooting till so late?
No, had dinner at Kunal's house.
No shoot tomorrow.
Could have rung up. I’ve early morning classes tomorrow.
Sorry. Go to sleep.
Cut.
- Excellent, right? - Hmm.
Action.
Hey. All’s well at home?
Yeah.
Then why are you worried?
The astrologer scene... The climax...
What did I tell you?
You’re strength is your spontaneity.
Just let yourself go.
You think I’m thinking?
I’m just enjoying myself.
I'm enjoying this city.
Dipu is searching for a story.
It's fun and I'm enjoying it.
The day you stop searching...
it’s the end.
Compromise.
Cut!
Let's go to the location.
Here.
Madhavan, we’ll shoot from here.
That...
Coal stealing scene.
Lens?
Thirty five.
Night sequence.
Call Mita.
- Hey! - Coming.
So, you suddenly decided to marry?
Actually...
Nanda was getting married elsewhere.
So, I rushed.
I also married Kunal in a hurry.
I use to work in Ujjal's group back then.
We rehearsed at Minerva Theatre.
Kunal used to come to pick me up after the rehearsals.
He was jobless, after all.
He used to accompany me to Sealdah Station.
I stayed in the Uttarpara.
We walked from Minerva to Sealdah.
Sometimes he had bus fare.
Sometimes he didn't.
One evening while returning, he kept on walking.
I asked him the reason.
He asked me whether I knew about Joan of Arc.
I said I didn’t.
So he started telling me the story of Joan of Arc.
From the theatre to the station.
I suddenly realised we’ve reached the station.
Later I came to know he didn’t have bus fare.
Hey!
I’m listening.
(song playing)
- Hey! - Hmm?
Won’t you shoot?
Of course.
What are you looking for? Your packet of weed?
Mita has taken it. Have a smoke.
Let's go.
Start sound.
Rolling.
Camera.
Rolling.
Thirty-four by one. Take one.
Action!
You wanted to be an actor. You got a chance.
So what will you do in Germany? Work in the backstage?
This one film is useless.
No one watches these films here.
Those that work are lousy commercial stuff.
I can’t work in them.
But Kunal Sen is backing you.
Is he gonna back me forever?
No matter what you say, Kunal Sen’s not a great filmmaker.
What? What’re you trying to say?
Why else did Satyajit Ray say...
"A crow film is a crow film is a crow film"?
Here.
He’s too inconsistent.
Says that Naxalite Movement has a reason.
Next film he says it’s going the wrong way.
Guerilla fighter my foot!
Yeah. What’s your problem?
He’s an opportunist.
He won’t say where the girl goes in "Ekdin Pratidin".
Then as a filmmaker, what’s his politics?
Constantly contradicting.
You call this communism?
That’s his belief! What’s your problem?
You’re not a communist. Why are you defending him?
- Because he gave you a role? - Yeah.
And because I got to know him.
Any problem?
Who are you to talk about other's faith or films?
Who’re you?
I’m the audience! I’ve the right.
Trying to copy Jean Luc Godard--
What the hell!
What are you doing?
Ranjan, stop it!
- What the hell! - You’re going too far!
And you’re too lousy an actor!
- Bastard! - Our play will stop...
- Exactly! - That's what he wants.
So that he can run off to Germany.
- That’s utter nonsense, Sudip. - Yes!
I want to leave. Can’t work with bad actors.
You really want to break the group?
Whether Kunal Sen is good director or bad.
Whether he is gimmicky of an anti communist.
The group is not the place to discuss all these.
I built it because we wanted to stage Peter Weiss.
Look at him. Talking in past tense.
So, he’s decided to leave us and go to Germany.
Yup. I’ll leave.
Maybe I’m a bad actor. But I’m not selfish like you.
Calm down, guys! What the hell!
We have to come together.
Leave it.
All these days you talked against power politics.
Today you hit your own group member.
I’m ashamed to think I’ve worked with you!
To hell with you, Sudip!
No, no, no. To hell with you, Ranjan!
Because you’re a hypocrite.
You’ve read only a few German and French plays.
That doesn't give you the right to insult us.
Just 'cause you smoke up and play rock and roll
you think we know nothing?
Have you ever suffered hardships to go for rehearsals?
I’ve to go to the suburbs now.
But you won’t understand.
Cause you are a hypocrite. An a**hole!
Leave it.
Hey... Sudip!
If I talk for too long I’ll start contradicting myself.
Don't worry, sir. I’ll keep it short.
Okay then. Let’s start.
Mr Sen, some consider you to be a gimmicky filmmaker.
How’d you respond to that?
I’ve often thought, if I could put in the credits...
"Script, direction and gimmicks by Kunal Sen".
Does Ranjan smoke weed?
Yes.
He promised he won't. Naughty fellow!
Weirdo!
You want a beer?
No, I’m fine.
Where the hell is Bipul?
Look. Keep looking down.
Your household coal is being stolen by your neighbour.
Look.
You’re finding your story. Look.
Right.
You’re excited... Keep looking.
That's right.
Now oldie will look at you.
Sit down!
Cut! Excellent!
Hey. Madhavan has called you to his hotel.
Know where it is? Be there.
(indistinct chatter)
Come, Al Pacino.
No weed. Only alcohol here.
It's okay. I've stopped smoking weed.
Sit. Relax.
Make a peg.
Come on.
Make a large one.
More... More... That’s it.
Hmm.
No water.
He's done for.
It’s not for me. Drink it.
One shot.
Drink it!
Don’t you drink? What?
Drink it up.
Hey, Al Pacino. Drink up.
Good.
Hey.
Take another one.
Sit. Relax.
Sit.
Sir.
Everyday I’m looking through the camera.
Kunal says you’re fantastic.
Really?
Hmm?
What’s your problem?
Hey! What problem?
More, more.
I’m not good looking.
What? Say that again.
Bloody...
What did you say?
What’s good looking?
Is Al Pacino good looking?
Are we good looking?
Tell me.
Whatever the camera shows is good looking.
Good looking my foot!
Have you seen around>
Seen the people on the street?
Ordinary people?
The dirty, broken down Calcutta...
Kunal likes it. I like it. Why?
Cause there’s truth in them. Truth!
Good looking my foot!
Then what’s my problem?
You’re a sly fellow.
Impressing Kunal by being casual in from of the camera.
Acting doesn’t come from your mind.
It comes from your soul.
Bow down, Al Pacino.
Be humble.
We’re all working here.
You’re not the only one.
Relax, dude.
Make a drink. Come on.
Did a drinking scene?
You’re stinking! Take a shower.
Cut! Fantastic.
Did I tell about my first encounter with Charlie Chaplin?
Yeah.
How many times?
Four times.
Okay. I didn’t tell you this one.
I used to work as a medical representative in Kanpur.
I used to sell medicine at medicine stores.
- Sir. - No.
So...
- So... - Thanks.
I was about your age then.
I had a bicycle.
I used to go from one shop to another.
I mean...
I’m used to ride the cycle in the heat.
I used to go a long way.
Then come back again.
This went on.
(indistinct chatter)
Suddenly one day...
I got fed up.
I returned to my hotel.
It was a cheap one.
It had a mirror.
(indistinct chatter)
Something stroke me.
I was...
looking at the mirror...
Then I took off my clothes.
I was completely naked.
The mirror and myself.
I spoke to the mirror.
Hey, Kunal Sen. You wanna make movies?
You’ll never make it. Never!
Then I broke down and cried.
What were the lines in your play?
To pull yourself by own your hair.
To turn yourself upside down.
And look at the world with fresh eyes.
And then I decided to...
leave my job.
Came back to Calcutta.
My city!
I gatecrashed into cinema!
Is the shot ready?
Long back.
(song playing)
Kat, I’ll talk about it later. First I’ll have a beer with Ranjan.
Mr. Hoffner, I really have to go to Berlin.
You told me it's possible.
I mean...
If I’ve to do serious theatre...
I have to see the world.
I need to see Zadek, Stein and Schaubühne.
Yeah.
I know. And certainly you’re going to Berlin.
But it’ll take a while.
There are bureaucratic procedures that we’ve to follow.
But...
Tell me how’s your new project with Kunal Sen?
It’s exciting.
But I can’t bank on him for the rest of my life.
And Bengali commercial cinema is not my kind of thing.
And Calcutta is not really...
Will you manage to find your way back?
Yeah.
Do let me know when my interview gets published.
It’d be great if you write in English.
It'll be great.
See, I’ve decided I won’t write this article.
Really?
Yeah.
- I mean-- - Why?
For your good.
Not at all.
I'll be famous if you write.
I'll have more customers.
You won't.
Why?
They’ll get to know you’re a fraud.
See you.
Fraud?
Huh!
Place your hand on the wall.
Right.
You’re ashamed.
Insulted...
Helpless...
Look down.
Cut. Excellent!
- Okay? - Good.
I’ve worked with Kunal before.
I've worked with Tapan Sinha.
Not Satyajit Ray as yet.
Is this your first time?
Yeah.
Good. You're a good actor.
Do you have more scenes?
Yes.
Where do you stay?
Murshidabad.
I'll catch the 5:00 p. m. train.
(indistinct chatter)
You live in Murshidabad?
I’ll go to some studios to see if there’re...
any small roles for next week.
What’re you doing here? Your lunch is upstairs.
Hari. Take the yoghurt upstairs.
I’ll eat here.
Here? Kunal is spoiling you.
Can’t even serve lunch properly!
Is eating here a problem?
Hey, Bipul.
Why are you talking about eating all the time?
Have we come here to eat?
We’re actors. Artists. Huh!
Look, Somen!
I don’t know what you eat every day.
But when Kunal Sen makes a film every year...
we get to have good meals.
Naran. Get Ranjan’s lunch here.
And you take your train fare. Kept the ticket?
Sure.
- Eat well. - Hmm.
Have your lunch.
Who’s there in your family?
My daughter. She earns from giving tuition.
And my daughter-in-law takes care of the house.
Your son?
He stays in Chandannagar.
(indistinct chatter)
Your paan, sir.
You won’t act?
Oh.
What?
Sumanta was telling me you don’t want to work with me.
Okay.
I see.
That's fine.
Yeah.
Dad, I’m taking a cigarette.
- Babu, you know Ranjan? - Who?
Mom told me you're a stage actor.
When is your play?
It won't be staged.
- Oh. - Ranjan, Babu is my son.
- Hi. - See you.
(indistinct chatter)
Have dinner and go.
No, they’ll be waiting at home.
Really. They’ll wait?
(indistinct chatter)
Have dinner before leaving.
(indistinct chatter)
What’s the problem?
My theatre group is no more.
But you don’t believe in working together.
No group. No collective.
No, I don’t.
Then why are you bothered?
I don’t know that to do.
I’m sorry, this is not your affair.
When you act, you're great.
When I say cut the world collapses on you.
I have a son.
I know.
You told Mita.
Mita tells me everything.
You don’t.
But I want to say.
What do you want to say?
I don’t know what to do.
My friends don’t understand me.
Nanda understands you?
She’s the only one who does.
She’s working very hard.
She runs the family.
I can’t do anything.
Can’t run the family?
Hmm?
Money’s important, but...
You’ve struggled hard.
Mita struggled hard.
But I haven’t.
You wanted to break rules.
I love Camus. Peter Weiss. Jean Genet.
I want to do something different.
Calcutta doesn’t understand that.
Specially the communists.
You've learnt acting from Sajal Sarkar?
Yes.
I wanted him to play the editor’s role.
He doesn’t want to.
I'm thinking of casting Ujjal Dutt.
Know him?
Yes.
But?
His plays are good.
But you don’t like it.
Communist propaganda?
Yeah.
I also married in a rush.
Babu was born.
I too didn’t take much responsibility.
But you give scopes to others.
You give work to so many people.
I’m selfish.
It’s for my cinema.
You’re selfish for your theatre.
Are you Ranjan?
Yes.
Ranjan.
Mita was saying you’re doing great.
That’s Swarup. Mita’s cousin.
Did I disturb some highly intelligent discussion?
That you did. But how’re things?
Good.
You smoke? Can I have one?
Take mine. He smokes weeds!
Listen, Kunal, he can mess around with weeds.
You’re messing up his head!
Hello... Good.
Eliane.
Give me.
Yes, you send him the fax too.
How’s he messing my head?
I’ll tell you how... Light, please.
He's spoiling you.
No one watches Kunal’s films here.
It’ll be screened abroad. Win a few awards.
But you have to make a living.
Yes, I have sent it. I will call him...
- And I'll remind him. - Here.
Thanks. Please sit.
Really?
Do you know me?
Of course. You were there in "Palatak".
"Palatak"? You see such films?
Not all. Some...
Tell me, in which Kunal Sen film have I acted.
Why will you act in his film?
Hey, Kunal. Put down the phone.
Your hero hasn’t seen your films.
Yes, yes... I’ve sent the synopsis.
I’ll work on the subtitles.
"Baishe Srabon". "Oboseshe".
"Pratnidhi". "Mrigaya".
Hmm?
Small roles. Sometimes small roles are important.
Is it cold there?
Mita. Take the money and relieve me.
When did you come?
It’s very as usual.
(song playing)
Push... Push... Stop!
Can’t you see, bugger?
Smoke from the coal ovens is becoming a problem.
You’re finding a story in it. Get me?
Your mom in the kitchen is suffering the smoke.
At home, there’s a fight every day.
You feel bad about it.
Will it be 50 lens?
No, 35.
Fine.
Listen.
You’re feeling bad. Getting angry.
Say your lines.
How can you sit here?
Don’t your eyes burn?
Mita!
Get a gas cylinder.
Will enjoy cooking.
Can you?
Cut! Excellent!
Now the camera will be here.
Place it here, Madhavan.
(song playing)
This letter came from Roland.
Hmm.
Dear Ranjan.
I have to leave Kolkata. My tenure in Calcutta is over.
I wish I could extend it.
But unfortunately, I can’t.
I know you’re busy with your shoot with Kunal Sen.
Otherwise, we could have met.
Anyway, the good news is...
I’ve been able to fix your job in Berlin.
Remember the playwright Tankred Dorst?
He has spoken to the Goethe Institute.
And fixed a job for you at a theatre company
in West Berlin.
Sometime next year, you'll be going there.
It may take a little more than a year.
But you will definitely go to Germany.
Wish you all the best. See you in Berlin.
Lots of love. Roland.
How’s the film shaping?
Good.
And the boy?
Great!
Tomorrow we’re shooting the scene with the editor.
Ujjal has agreed. Ujjal Dutt.
Told you that he’s acting?
Yeah.
Dipu has finally found his story.
Coal ovens.
He has written about coal ovens.
Here’s the problem.
Editor is not accepting the part about the smoke.
He wants to remove it.
And you're in a dilemma.
Get me?
Know your lines?
- Huh? - Hmm.
You’re talking of pollution.
You're talking about your home, your locality.
The lower middle class who use coal ovens.
And you're getting excited.
Here’s where Ujjal will ask you.
Are you a communist?
You need the job badly.
A little comfortable living.
A slightly better life.
What will you do?
It’s a very crucial scene.
I know.
Will you agree with the editor?
Dipu is also not a communist like you.
But will he accept it?
Or will he support his neighbours...
and ordinary poor folks who use coal ovens?
Will he stand by them?
Crucial scene. Okay?
Get me?
We’ll shoot in an office.
I’ll pick you up from home.
- JK, I’ll go with you. - Yeah.
Okay.
Call him.
Got it? Go change.
(indistinct chatter)
You don’t have to come. I’ll go.
- Can’t I go to your house? - Not that.
Of course you can. But I’ll go.
Keep this.
What’s this?
Your travelling allowance.
No. I have money.
Come on, take it.
Hundred rupees?
Just take it.
- Keep it. - Thanks.
Now tell me, Is Al Pacino better than Belmondo?
It's an important scene.
JK!
So many people use ovens here.
Say, 60% or 80%?
You’re a communist?
It’s not happening!
Let’s go again.
And you’ll stop me when I say 60%, 80%.
Just stop me.
But how will we survive without coal ovens?
My house, my locality, everywhere...
So many people are forced to use coal ovens.
Say, 60% or 80%.
You’re a communist?
What?
It’s not happening!
Let's go again. Come on.
Start.
So many people use coal ovens.
Say, 60%--
You’re a communist?
Not happening!
We’ll go again. Once more.
Why don’t you relax?
I can’t relax!
This is a highly important scene.
It’s my most important shot in the film.
Can't relax. Let’s go again.
You’re a communist?
What?
You’re a communist?
- Bijit. - F**k!
It's midnight. Won't you go home?
You’re communist? You want to run off to Germany?
(call for prayer)
To pull yourself by your own hair.
To turn yourself upside down.
And look at the world with fresh eyes.
What happened?
Ujjal, this is Ranjan.
He’s a very good actor.
He’s doing really well.
You've told that to me.
But does he know you speak German fluently?
Stop joking. Practice your lines.
Don’t bully him.
JK, we’ll just take two angles.
We'll go with 35.
You speak German?
No.
Very good.
Kunal specialises in German & French.
That’s where his films are shown.
Heard you do theatre.
Yes.
Then you must be knowing about a strange group...
that’s doing Peter Weiss’ "Marat/Sade"?
Do you know them?
Yes.
Do you know who is playing Jean Paul Marat?
Heard some people stopped the play.
Yes.
I'm the director.
Wow! What audacity!
(indistinct chatter)
Don’t worry. We’ll improvise.
Kunal will change all the dialogues.
Start sound.
Rolling.
Camera.
Rolling.
Fifty-six by one, take one.
Action!
In our country...
so many people use coal ovens.
Say, 60% or 80%.
You’re a communist?
Cut. It's not working.
Not working.
Here.
Why are you shrugging so much?
Fifty-six by six, take six.
Action!
In our country so many people use coal ovens.
Say, 60% or 80%.
You’re a communist?
Cut, cut. We'll do it again.
Dipu is not Ranjan.
Kunal, let him relax.
Lights off.
Listen.
How much can we achieve in a shot? Hundred percent?
But that’s not possible. Ninety-five percent is enough.
In some shots the camera is giving 50%.
Editing is giving 30%.
Music gives another 20%.
How much will you give?
Nothing.
Exactly.
By giving nothing you’ll save the shot.
But if you act what will happen?
Overacting.
Exactly.
The other day, you ate the tram ticket.
You gave 50%!
Camera and edit will give the rest.
In your scenes with Mita
you gave 30% to 40%.
But today, you’ll do nothing.
Look blankly at the camera.
We have get 90%.
I know you’ve practised all night.
But don’t overdo.
Look straight at the camera.
Here. At my palm.
Come.
JK.
Listen. You’ll walk straight.
We’ll follow you with the camera.
Walk along the car.
We’ll maintain the same speed.
Okay?
You’ve compromised.
You’ve accepted the job.
You’ve betrayed all your neighbours.
You’ve lost the battle.
Dipu has lost the battle.
Let's do it. Come on.
Madhavan.
Cut, cut!
Why did you cry like an idiot?
Just because you compromised you’ll cry?
Are you Devdas?
Can’t understand! I’m feeling sad.
Dipu has compromised. Won’t he feel bad?
Is he emotionless?
Won't he react?
Strange!
Madhavan, is it okay?
It’s good.
What do you mean?
He went out of camera.
Then rushed back. Need a retake, right?
Very good.
What very good?
He just...
I’ll take again.
Listen. Walk straight.
Al Pacino!
Would Al Pacino cry like an idiot on the road?
Ever seen him cry stupidly?
Just wasted the shot.
Is he buying me negatives?
Sumanta, retake.
I hate this man!
One moment he’ll appreciate improvisations.
Then he'll cuss me.
I’m fed up.
The other day you said, he taught you how to act.
That’s different.
Then why take actors if you won't let them improvise?
Cast random people.
"Bicycle Thieves"!
What’s the name of that guy?
Lam...
Lamberto! Damn it!
He did well.
He was so natural.
You saw it thrice.
A chap is confused whether he’s a communist or not.
He has compromised.
Yet he can’t emote?
Strange!
You really hate him?
Ranjan. Your in-laws called.
Your son’s fine. Nanda’s staying over.
You have your lunch, uncle. We’re fine.
Has Ranjan decided what he'll do?
Bioscope or Berlin?
(indistinct chatter)
Hey. Shooting over.
It’s a wrap!
Sumanta, does Bipul know we’re done?
Yes. I've told him.
- JK? - Yes?
Are you coming house?
Hey. Where’s Ranjan?
- He didn’t have shoot today. - Oh.
So what? Why didn't he come to the shoot?
I think I saw him on the terrace.
Where?
Near the parapet.
Why on the roof?
Does he know we’ve finished?
Strange!
What’re you doing here?
It’s a wrap. Shooting over.
JK’s will cook. Let’s go.
Come on.
What’s wrong?
What happened?
What? Tell me.
Any problem at home?
What’s wrong then?
Any crisis at home?
I can’t be a communist.
Who told you to be one?
But you won’t cast me anymore, right?
The day I called you...
were you a communist? Or just a good actor?
I don’t know what I’ll do.
I can’t work in bad films.
I love theatre, but I can’t do it.
Because I can’t run a group.
And I’ve taken responsibility of someone else.
Two others, to be precise. Leaving out my parents.
Despite reading a lot I can’t understand what to do.
I'm a failure.
I can’t be like Dipu.
Can’t compromise like him.
I don’t know whether I'm a good actor.
Your house is so good.
I mean, Swarup, Mita, Bipul, JK...
They’re so friendly.
They’re different.
They can speak their minds out.
Remember what Mao Tse-tung said?
"Let a thousand minds clash.
Let a thousand flowers bloom. "
But that same Mao inspired Khmer Rouge.
Cambodian Communist Party.
They killed millions.
For being Jews and homosexuals…
Hitler, send millions to the concentration camp.
Joseph Stalin.
He sent hundreds of homosexuals to Gulag.
Then where’s the difference?
Tell me. You know it all.
You know, that so many from the GDR
were shot by police for trying to escape.
This is also dictatorship.
You know it. Don’t you?
I’m sorry.
I shouldn’t be talking like this to you.
I’m younger than you.
I know everything.
But what’re you actually trying to say?
Say it!
Cry. Cry your heart out.
Then I’ll ask a question.
What question?
First cry. Then I'll tell you.
Tell me now. We won’t meet again.
You have to come for the dubbing.
I... I don’t wanna go to Germany.
What?
I don’t wanna go to Berlin anymore.
Come on. You’ve got to go.
So much of preparation.
I want to be with you.
Even if you don't cast me.
Your house is beautiful.
You haven’t answered my question.
What?
How’s your city, Calcutta?
Fantastic!
(song playing)