IFFR 2025: The resurrection of Bengali cinema, which Anurag Kashyap calls ‘ghatiya’

(From left) Bengali filmmakers Suman Mukhopadhyay, Pradipta Bhattacharyya and Ishaan Ghose are premiering their films at IFFR Rotterdam 2025. Mukhopadhyay's film is in Big Screen competition.

It has been a while since Bengali cinema has been praised. Around this time last year, filmmaker Anurag Kashyap called contemporary Bengali cinema “ghatiya” (well-worn and shoddy). While it is unrelated but it seems to have stoked the fire. An A-list international festival, known to champion high-art and experimentation, has selected not one but three Bengali films in a single edition. Has that happened in a while? That’s something the more rigorous and enterprising Tamil and Malayalam cinema tend to do, not us Spaniard-like-laid-back Bengalis.

At International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR) 2025, only two films are in the main competitions: one is — no prizes for guessing — a Tamil film, Bad Girl by Varsha Bharath, in Tiger Competition. And the other is Suman Mukhopadhyay’s Bengali film Putulnacher Itikatha (The Puppet’s Tale) in Big Screen Competition. “Bengali films were shown from time to time, however, as it seems, not in competition, at least not in the past 35 years or so,” says the hawk-eyed IFFR programmer Stefan Borsos.

Besides these are films in non-competitive segments: the world premiere of the Director’s Cut of Pa Ranjith’s Thangalaan. Three in Cinema Regained section [Vani Subramanian’s new documentary Cinema Pe Cinema: The Theatres. The Movies. And Us (Hindi/English); Varun Grover’s Kiss (Hindi); Sai Paranjpye’s 1982 film Katha (Hindi)]. Six in Harbour section [Amit Dutta’s Phool ka Chhand/Rhythm of a Flower (Hindi), Vidyadhar Kagita’s Gaami (Telugu), Ishaan Ghose’s Morichika (Bengali), Nishanth Kalidindi’s Theatre (Tamil), Pradipta Bhattacharyya’s Nadharer Bhela/The Slow Man and his Raft (Bengali); Bhaskar Saikia’s Bokshi (Nepalese/Hindi)]; and one in Short & Mid-length category [Lipika Singh Darai’s B and S].

Thirteen films is no mean feat, “while the year 2023 remains unbeatable with its dedicated India-focus programme ‘The Shape of Things to Come?’, but in terms of the number of (Indian) films (at an IFFR edition), yes, it’s [this year] the largest number yet,” adds Borsos.

This year, three Bengali films in a single edition of an important global festival, which is neither in India nor does it have Indian in its title, carries heft. Whether or not they are here to stay or is a shape of things to come, the times they are a-changin’. Maybe it’s just a spark for now, but Bengalis are hopeless romantics.

There has been “a resurgence in the south and in Marathi films, this is what we need to bring back in Bengal,” says theatre and film director Mukhopadhyay. While Mukhopadhyay and veteran director (and IFFR alum) Goutam Ghose’s filmmaker son Ishaan Ghose may have shown their films at international festivals in the past, a real find — for the festival and for Bengalis across the world — is Pradipta Bhattacharyya, who is, perhaps, Bengal’s most exciting contemporary filmmaker whose lo-fi films, stories from current-day mofussil Bengal, over a decade now, since Bakita Byaktigato (Rest is Personal, 2013), have remained criminally underseen. And remain unavailable, unless put on YouTube. For all three filmmakers, this trip to IFFR is their very first.

Abir Chatterjee (right) and Dhritiman Chatterjee in a still from Putulnacher Itikatha (The Puppet's Tale). Directed by Suman Mukhopadhyay, the film is in Big Screen Competition at IFFR 2025.

“Bengali films have been sent quite regularly, but sometimes it was taste, quality, but also timing which prevented the inclusion. I wanted to show an earlier film (Rajlokhi o Srikanto) by Pradipta Bhattacharyya when I started at IFFR in 2020, but eventually it didn’t work out (the film had already released in India and was available online, so couldn’t have been premiered). So, I’m not entirely sure if it really says something that we have three [Bengali] films at once this year or if it’s sheer coincidence,” says Borsos, “However, my impression is that while [Bengali cinema] having been a fixture at international film festivals in the past, they lost that status in recent years, and maybe some new developments, etc., have been going on without people noticing. It’s so difficult to follow cinema from India in general, all the trends and developments and, on the other hand, so easy to miss things if you don’t look properly.”

The year 2021 saw some young Bengali indie films travel to international festival but finding a distributor back home was a challenge. While Prasun Chatterjee could release his BFI London-premiered Dostojee and Ishaan Ghose his Torino-premiered Jhilli a year later in 2022, Abhinandan Banerjee’s Talinn Black Nights’ pick Manikbabur Megh found home release only last year and ran for over 100 days — a huge feat, considering indies either don’t find theatrical releases or get about a week- or fortnight-long run. Aditya Vikram Sengupta has had a challenge with distribution since his Venice Fedeora Award & Indian National Award-winning debut Asha Jaoar Majhe (Labour of Love). His 2021 Venice-premiered Once Upon a Time in Calcutta (aka Mayanagar) is only releasing now, in Kolkata theatres on February 7.

“It’s not possible to make every film great, it doesn’t happen anywhere in the world. Even in Hollywood there are many parallel industries, all of their works are not great according to the language of cinema. Specifically, what happened with Bengali films, I feel, is that it really declined as the world kept evolving. Most of the good technicians moved out of Bengal because of better opportunities,” says Ishaan Ghose.

Bhattacharyya, who’s also a film editor, says, “The work of technicians in Bengali cinema has drastically reduced. I only edit indies now. A lot of my technician friends are out of work. Funding is a problem. Single screens have shut down. And not that people are going to the multiplex to watch Bengali cinema. Most don’t release pan-India. Media hype can only make one-odd film hit, but that won’t sustain the industry. It has to happen on a regular basis. Film shooting schedules have come down to 10-12 days, sometimes even five-eight days for a two-hour film, because there is no budget but work has to happen.” Mukhopadhyay adds, “the producer of my film Putulnacher Itikatha produces one film in three years. Earlier satellite was very important, you could recover the money from satellite, but now it has become an uncertain terrain. They don’t know how to do business that way.”

If Bhattacharyya says, “Bengali producers are hardly there in Bengal, those who understand Bengali culture and its variety. The non-Bengali producers back formula films, and there’s the problem of a guild,” Mukhopadhyay quips, “Bengalis don’t have money. It’s difficult to find Bengali producers.” One of the problems, Mukhopadhyay adds, in Bengal is that “people are sitting in their own insular islands. Earlier, there was a cultural urge to support this kind of (offbeat) cinema. That is what is lacking in Bengali society at present. I know there’s a big potential here who know how to make films, but there is a section of filmmakers who are on the brink of giving up filmmaking. So, let there be big money-making films, but alongside let there also be the space for smaller films to exist and be seen.”

Amit Saha in a still from Pradipta Bhattacharyya's Nadharer Bhela (The Slow Man and his Raft), which premieres at IFFR 2025.

Bhattacharyya adds, “The reason for absence of Bengali films in the international circuit is because there is a strain of filmmaking here, in mainstream commercial popular films, in that too, there are two kinds of division, one which produces family dramas which look like a shinier, sparkier versions of TV serials, where emotions are underlined. And the other are copies or adaptations of south Indian films.”

And, also, the formulaic literary adaptations. But “that is typical of our upbringing and part of our cultural psyche, it isn’t found in many other cultures,” says Mukhopadhyay, whose film Putulnacher Itikatha is an adaptation of the 1936 eponymous novel by Manik Bandopadhyay. Mukhopadhyay is still remembered for Herbert (2005), his brilliant political debut with elements of magic realism, which completes 20 years this year. Herbert was adapted from writer Mahasweta Devi’s son Nabarun Bhattacharya’s groundbreaking eponymous novel. “The kind of literature Bengal has produced for centuries, Satyajit Ray, Ritwik Ghatak, Mrinal Sen, all of them have adapted short stories/novellas. Look at Ray’s phenomenal career, he’s written very few original films, a majority of his works have been literary adaptations (Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay, Sunil Gangopadhyay, Prabhat Kumar Mukhopadhyay, Sankar, etc.). He first started writing his own stories with Kanchenjungha (1962). But that doesn’t mean his cinematic adaptation is not original. Look at The Godfather (1972), Mario Puzo’s novel which Francis Ford Coppola adapted for screen. When you’re watching it, does it, at any point, feel like it is a novel?”

Aditya Vikram Sengupta’s next film, The Employer, will be in Hindi, not Bengali. Bhattacharyya rues that producing any film sitting in Bengal, not just independent and alternative, but to even make mainstream popular films has become very difficult, “because funding has really depleted.” Filmmakers are running from pillar to post to arrange for film budgets, “it is far worse for smaller films like ours. We are told: what will you do by making such films? Who will you sell it to? The value for such films is low here. That is also a reason to send films to international competitions abroad because the future of independent cinema here is dark,” he says.

Then, why hasn’t Bhattacharyya, an outlier, ever sent his films to any international film festivals until now? Because “at one point, I used to hear, that the various festival selectors were not interested in Bengali films. One has to do networking, follow up with curators, etc., and I had no connections or any promotional budget. One needs to be renowned, or have a certain recognition, and have money. At one point, I realised the kind of complexity there is in our mainstream film industry is the kind of complexity that exists in the international film circuit as well. But I’ve realised now, if the film gets selected at a good festival and if those audiences like it, then it will boost the chances of it getting seen here. All the credit goes to Stefan for pursuing me,” he says.

Besides, the thought of how the Europeans will like your film can be crippling. As is the wont of many Indian filmmakers of a certain vintage, Bhattacharyya came to espouse the idea that “the freedom for one’s thought-process doesn’t always remain when you have to make films that these festivals will like and select, and for that reason, those films tend to look very similar to one another. Those who can do that, perhaps get producers, but the journey gets difficult for young, enthusiastic filmmakers here to find producers and finance for their films. Whether it is in script, in the story, or in the way camera is used, scene composition and lighting, in sound and music, that tends to look as a certain kind of film, that is not original filmmaking, which we have seen (in Bengal in the past), starting with Satyajit Ray up until Aparna Sen, encompassing Ritwik Ghatak, Mrinal Sen, Tapan Sinha, Buddhadeb Dasgupta, Goutam Ghose. That originality, genuine, unadulterated Bangla cinema, has become absent in recent independent films from Bengal. This can be a reason for absence. Because nomatter how much we try and make cinema like the Europeans or Americans, they are themselves making those films, why would they wan’t to see those kinds of films being made by Indians,” he says.

A still from Ishaan Ghose's sophomore, Morichika, which premieres in the Harbour section of IFFR 2025.

Ishaan Ghose’s sophomore Morichika, premiering at IFFR, a freewheeling humanist drama keeps the urban underbelly in focus but treats the class struggle and aspirations differently from his debut Jhilli, which reminds of Mondo films (aka shockumentary), in particular Khavn’s Filipino film Mondomanila (which premiered at IFFR in 2012). Given the accessibility and technology, the younger generation of filmmakers are exposed to a far greater number of world cinema today than ever before. Those inspirations tend to creep in. Like how Wong Kar-wai’s cinematic style, among others, is apparent in Payal Kapadia’s Cannes Grand Prix-winning original film All We Imagine as Light.

“I feel Wong Kar-wai’s work will endure because it’s so timeless and will always be relevant. Him, Chaplin, Stanley Kubrick, Sergei Eisenstein, Federico Fellini, Francois Truffaut, Jean-luc Godard, Vittorio De Sica, Mikhail Kalatozov, Akira Kurosawa are filmmakers I keep revisiting mostly. I watch all kinds of stuff, mostly getting inspired by YouTube vlogs and videos nowadays. I think they are great filmmaking, too,” says Ishaan.

He adds, “To be honest, I haven’t watched too many Bengali films, apart from my father’s (Goutam Ghose) films. (Ray’s) Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne (1969) is one of my favourites though. I got into filmmaking quite late at the age of 23, and started working as a camera assistant, so it was mostly about the labour (of filmmaking). I was always interested in things that I was doing with my own life and my time with my loved ones.”

Among Bengalis at IFFR in recent years, Sengupta’s Jonaki and Ashish Avikunthak’s two films have been shown at the festival. And, Goutam Ghose has shown in the past (Sang-e-meel se Mulaqat, Yatra, Dekha). Visibility is as important as constantly churning out good cinema. Because a few good men and their craft have remained in the throes of obscurity. “Every year there has been some representation of Bengali cinema in the international circuit,” says Mukhopadhyay, “But one thing is important, whether there will be any resurgence of Bengali cinema after this one festival [IFFR] is unlikely, what may happen is a return of an interest in Bengali cinema in the international festival circuit, which is very important. But I don’t know if it will have an impact on the Bengali film industry.”

To circle back to Kashyap’s adjective for current crop of Bengali cinema, Mukhopadhyay quips, “Anurag Kashyap himself wants to leave Mumbai now. Then, he should call Bollywood films as ‘ghatiya’, too. While I won’t say what Anurag is saying there isn’t any truth in that but I don’t want somebody to be talking about Bengali cinema like that. I have, myself, publicly said it so many times that Bengali cinema has become very insular. The (IFFR) festival director Vanja Kaludjercic said after watching my film, ‘the world you have created through cinema, I hope it resonates with the audience.’ This attitude is important.” It is to grab eyeballs and make his film saleable that Mukhopadhyay cast the popular commercial hero Abir Chatterjee in the lead role, alongside Kolkata-stationed Bangladeshi actress Jaya Ahsan. Mukhopadhyay says he has been unable to find any distributor for his earlier film starring the talented Tanmay Dhanania and Indira Tiwari, Nazarband/The Captive (2020).

Bhattacharyya, who laughs when I call him the fringe, says, “I make films sporadically. I just live in Kolkata but am not part of the Bengali film industry cosmos.” He concedes Kashyap’s observation as “correct”, adding that “Degeneration is the norm of time. At one time, it [Bengali cinema] was at the pinnacle of cinema in India, that has had a great fall, and it is not just cinema, there is a sociopolitical reason for it, too. Society itself has degenerated.” And that, “Kolkata-based filmmakers might think of making films differently but the problem arises at the level of execution: Who’s the producer, what do they want? Are the directors compelled to show what the producers demand? What is now happening slowly is that films are being made from mofussil/provincial parts of Bengal, short films and feature films, Satrabit Paul, from Haldibari, his film (Nitantoi Sahaj Saral) went to IFFI 2021 (International Film Festival of India, Goa), there are small-time filmmakers coming up in Purulia, Bankura… if this continues, then there is hope. But overall, unless the complications in the industry are addressed and simplified, I’m not sure what the future is.”

The next-gen filmmaker Ishaan Ghose chooses not to see the state of things negatively but as an opportunity to rebuild, “I think a transition is happening now, not only in Bengal, almost everywhere in the arts, from the old world to a new era. I am very optimistic with the youth, they will create incredible things in the near future. It’s quite exciting to me.”