January 9, 2010, Kolkata (Calcutta Tube): TAPUR TUPUR BRISHTI PORE is a 2010 Bengali Film starring Barsha, Rajat Ganguly, Parthosarathi Deb, Biswanath Ghosh and others.
Cast and Crew:
- Produced and distributed by: SLC Enterprises
- Presented by: Amal Majumdar
- Story, screenplay, dialogue and lyrics: Amit Ghosh
- Cinematography: Babul Roy
- Editing: Atish De Sarkar
- Music: Nabin Chatterjee
- Cast: Barsha, Rajat Ganguly, Parthosarathi Deb, Biswanath Ghosh, Mita Chatterjee, Haradhan Banerjee, Gaurishankar Panda, Kalyani Mandal, Barsha and introducing Omi.
- Rating: 1/10
TERRIBLE REHASH OF AGNI PARIKSHA
If the opening frame of a film begins with a scene of two middle-aged men sleeping on two beds in a men’s hostel with one of them farting to disturb the other one, you can imagine what lies in store for you over the rest of the film. I would have granted the director some marks for restraint if this was the beginning and end of the fart scenario. Unfortunately, it isn’t. It is structured as an integral part of the man’s character adding to the film’s ambience of disgust. The very next scene closes up on a long queue outside the two toilets in the men’s hostel with dialogues to match as our farting gentleman finds it hard to ‘hold it in’.
[ReviewAZON asin=”B003Y3X08O” display=”inlinepost”]The only link of the story to the film’s title is through a song-and-dance routine that, like all the other song-dance sequences, is a dream scene showing the debut-making hero Omi and his lady-love Barsha (Orissa), not exactly a newcomer. The two meet once, that too in passing when Barsha drops a notebook on her way to college in a cycle rickshaw and Omi picks it up to give it to her. It is love at first sight and the beginning of several song-dance numbers. Only one picturised against a Tagore song is the saving grace of the entire film. Two songs, “My Dear” and another one belted out by the fat cook in the girls’ hostel that goes “phulkophulko luchi” are indicators of the lyricist’s ‘power’ of creative imagination.
The other hostel stereotypes are loud and crude. There is James Potol a nickname he is vested with because he thinks he is James Bond. Poor Biswanath Ghosh, a talented actor with a rare gift for comedy, is reduced to a buffoon. Parthosarothi Deb as the man with the art of the fart is wasted in a role that is an insult to his versatility. There is a saffron-robes-and-rudraksha-wearing in-house astrologer and another potential filmmaker who lives off the hundred-rupee notes he cons the other residences of with the promise of giving them the main role in his non-existent film! These characters and scenes are a cheap plagiarisation from Raj Chakraborty’s box office hit Chirodini Tumi Je Amaar.
Omi is depressed because thoughts of a childhood marriage with the grown-up wife now waiting to be reunited back home keeps haunting him and threatens his love life with Barsha. Barsha too, has a secret to hide which she narrates to one of her hostel friends. But if Barsha is actually Omi’s little bride now grown-up, then one fails to understand why the soundtrack remains silent each time she reveals her secret. The two finally elope with the connivance of Omi’s forever-dressed-to-go-to-a-wedding sister-in-law. She is the only one who knows that Shubhra (Barsha) is actually a grown-up Tushi, the girl Omi got married to as a little boy. Omi cannot change one muscle on his face to make even an attempt to act. Barsha either looks dreamy-eyed or flashes sweet and syrupy smiles and looks pretty when compared to her hostel mates. Haradhan and Mita Chatterjee’s lovey-dovey scenes would have been enjoyable in a different setting but not in one that is dotted with farts and room fresheners and crude jokes and a static camera and an editor who has practically no work to speak of. The cinematographer seems to have fixed his camera in one place and gone away on a sabbatical.
Sorry, there is nothing in this film that merits a rating except the one for the lovely Tagore song.
Shoma A. Chatterji