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  • kurosawakira7 January 2013
    For me the most rewarding films (or any art for that matter) are those that are acutely mindful of life and death and themselves in the midst of it. In the words of Harold Bloom, "We all fear loneliness, madness, dying. Shakespeare and Walt Whitman, Leopardi and Hart Crane will not cure those fears. And yet these poets bring us fire and light." The same with all art, much of which this film epitomizes.

    "The Music Room", as it is known in English, is as much about the power of cinema as it is about that of music. It is as much about life as it is about death, both elliptically consummate by reason of each other: art as a life of inspiration, inspiration as regained strength. Art as addiction, addiction as loneliness, loneliness as death.

    The ending is one of the most filmically mesmerizing moments I know of. Light and shadow, derangement and perspicuity, again life and death. And as for the Blu-ray (Region A) released by the Criterion Collection in 2011, it's phenomenal to the hilt, a cultural act in itself, in my books among their most enduring and best releases so far (perhaps only the complete Jean Vigo compares).
  • This was seen in the monthly Foreign Film Series in a society for retired university (KU) peeps. This 1958 story is remarkably subtle, about the advancing age and declining wealth of a higher caste Indian man, a Zamindar (landlord), whose income from his inherited lands is dropping from the previous levels of his wealthy ancestors because increasing river floods have lessened his rentable property and income. He's unable to adjust his manner of living to either that change or simultaneous changes in the Indian economy that lead to new economic benefits and social mobility for many in lower castes. He's especially irritated at his nouveau riche lower caste new next door neighbor whose income comes from money lending rather than through inherited property and wealth; he engages in expensive rival concerts which he cannot truly afford and these leave him even poorer. Through two extended flashbacks we learn he had been married and had a son (16? 18?); both wife and son died together on a trip. So he's alone for many years. While Indian music is his primary comfort (played in "the music room" of his palatial home), he also begins to use it as his primary club against his "upstart" neighbor. As he ages we see his memory decline, e.g., asking one of his two remaining servants, "What month is this?" before he presents one last concert for invited guests (and to belittle his rival, his lower caste neighbor, an included guest) before he then embarks on an activity which leads to his death. Great examples of Indian music (but the closed captions on the DVD we saw had white type/lettering which sometimes was not very legible against its background). The movie also very subtly raises the question -- to what extent is this person (one's self or relative or friend) going through parallel sequences in the getting old process?
  • Beautifully shot and with a great soundtrack, but a rather dreary story, which is a critique of idle members of the traditional zamindar (aristocrat) class, a celebration of traditional Indian music, and a depiction of the end of an era. In the film, a damn fool of a middle-aged man (Chhabi Biswas) squanders his family fortune as the portraits of four generations of his ancestors look on in his music room, where he hosts large groups of friends to lavish performances despite his dwindling funds. He likes lolling about, smoking a hookah and drinking cognac, and it's clear he likes the music as well, but what he likes even more is the prestige and status that he has, and lording it over one of his neighbors he views (and treats) as inferior.

    I loved seeing and hearing the various musical instruments, the wonderful vocalizations, and the performances - especially that dancer towards the end - they were something special. The rest of it had meaning, but was less compelling for me, despite all the craft and attention to detail director Satyajit Ray put in. It would have been more interesting had we had gotten more depth and insight into some of the other characters. Certainly worth watching though.
  • At the time I post this, only 123 people have cast a vote of any kind for The Music Room. What a shame.

    Satyajit Ray is one of the greatest directors of all-time and The Music Room is his masterpiece. Correction: The Music Room is a masterpiece of world cinema.

    How to describe this movie? In Hollywood lingo, you could call it Citizen Kane meets Black Narcissus with a big dose of King Lear. Of course, if you called it that, they'd shelve the project and spend the money on the sequel to XXX.

    Pity poor Biswambhar Roy, a king in a lonely castle. He's lost not only his family but his entire way of life. He is a mistake. A forgotten man waiting in his empty shell of a world.

    He spends the last remnants of his once vast fortune on a final, lavish musical performance in his crumbling home, a last-ditch attempt to connect to the pride and joy he once felt in his life.

    Not that he is innocent. He is proud and oblivious, spoiled and selfish. But surely not a bad man. Merely a displaced man. So we can cheer as he is granted one last moment of happiness and weep for him as he meets his inevitable end.

    How is that Satyajit Ray remains unknown even to many die-hard cineastes in the States? I hope one of the companies will come along soon and release some of his work on DVD.
  • WARNING -- PLOT DISCUSSED -- The jalsaghar is a great music hall in the mansion of the main character, a scion of a great landowning family. It's almost all he has left of the Ray family's legacy. Over the years his land has been slowly eaten away by one of the great rivers of Bengal. But he still has the trappings of aristocracy -- his retainers address him as "Hujur" ("my lord"); even his wealthy neighbour, Ganguli, addresses him as "Thakurda" ("(paternal) grandfather"). He lives only for his jalsaghar, where he can recreate his family's past glory and where he can still win a game of one-upmanship against Ganguli. Meanwhile, Ganguli is up-and-coming. He's a businessman, the new aristocrat, land-poor but cash-rich. He gets electric lights for his house; he gets a motor car, the first in the region. Satyajit Ray, the legendary director, masterfully contrasts the hollowness of the old aristocrat with the shallowness of the new aristocrat. How is privilege earned? Who is due respect? What is worthy of pride? What will pride get you? These are the questions that are explored with subtlety. The focus of the film is the performance of Chhabi Biswas, a legend of the Calcutta stage. (An interesting aside -- "chhabi" is Bengali for "picture" and "biswas" means "belief.") He fit the mold of a classic actor -- temperamental, undependable, a raging alcoholic, a master. Almost every scene is wholly dependent on him, as he preens and boasts and rages and pines away for lost glory. When you read that Biswas was in real life completely tone-deaf, his creation of a music-lover is an astonishing accomplishment, both by him and by Satyajit Ray.
  • Jalsaghar (aka "The Music Room") is a 1958 drama film directed by master Indian filmmaker Satyajit Ray. Based on a short story of the same name by Bangla writer Tarashankar Bandopadhyay, Jalsaghar presents the tale of decline of a feudal lord in the pre-independence India. Jalsaghar stars veteran Bangla actor Chhabi Biswas in the lead role of Huzur Biswambhar Roy. Huzur is the last of Zamindars—a dying breed of landlords who once formed the very basis of the Indian Feudal System. Huzur's glory days are over but his sense of superiority remains intact. He lives in the past neither acknowledging the present nor anticipating the future. He continues to be a servant of his refined tastes even as his coffers are getting empty.

    Jalsaghar was Ray's fourth film which he made after the commercial failure of Aparijito—the finally film in Ray's much acclaimed "The Apu Trilogy". Ray had initially thought of making a commercial film, based on some popular work of literature, which would incorporate popular Indian music. But, what eventually transpired was something that was totally different. It was more of an art-house work than a commercial movie that Ray had initially intended to make. The movie failed to do well at the Indian box-office. But, it received both critical and financial success in Europe and the US and helped Ray earn international reputation. The music of Jalsaghar was written by the Indian composer and sitar maestro Ustad Vilayat Ali Khan who was encouraged by Ray to compose musical pieces that would gel well with the movie's dark and gloomy tone. The movie's melancholic musical composition and sombre art direction—the sublime use of mirrors, chandeliers, etc.—gives it a Gothic feel in the vein of American Film-Noir films of the '40s and '50s.

    In Jalsaghar, Ray highlights the perpetual conflict of tradition versus modernity while simultaneously examining the Indian caste system. Jalsaghar is a sublime work of cinema that, having stood the test of time for over five decades, continues to inspire the budding filmmakers as well as enthrall the audiences worldwide. Jalsaghar is widely regarded as Satyajit Ray's most evocative film. It serves to be a great means of getting acquainted with Ray's oeuvre. Jalsaghar with its universal motifs is also the most accessible of Ray's films, especially for foreign viewers. Jalsaghar is not a movie that would woo a casual viewer. Restless viewers should best stay away from it. But, a patient viewer would be thoroughly rewarded. The movie owing to its slow pace may pose impediments to the uninitiated viewer. Jalsaghar is a deeply thought-provoking work of cinema that demands multiple viewings. The movie is a must watch for every student of cinema. Jalsaghar.is an essential watch for all Satyajit Ray fans as well as those who understand and appreciate intelligent cinema. 10/10

    A more in-depth review of the film can be read at:

    http://www.apotpourriofvestiges.com/
  • The film is a masterpiece, a definite 10. As with the Apu trilogy, I am mesmerized and absorbed by the pacing and drama of the film. Even though the film uses music, its appreciation, and its status as the vehicle for its themes, there is no (or very little?) background music for the spoken portions of the film. This provides not only realism, but sets off the intense and magnificent performance of the protagonist. There is also a great deal of entertainment in this film: the music performances are excellent. I wonder if Ray found the best musicians of the region and gave them roles as performers in the musical soirees: performers playing performers. I have the sense that there is very little artifice in the cinematography. That is, I feel that the filming techniques were not highly sophisticated. But the eye, the light, the composition are almost perfect. I think that the other commenter (the only other one!) stated the themes quite well for me. I would only one: the obsession and self-destructiveness that come with pride and jealousy of one's status.
  • Camoo15 August 2013
    Warning: Spoilers
    The Music Room is my favorite S. Ray film, and I came around to seeing it very late in the game. I do not hesitate when I say that it is perfect, and contains the single greatest musical number ever set to film. It amazes me when I pop in a picture made 50 years ago and learn so much from it, and am moved and shocked and carried by its honest emotions in a way that makes the Music Room feel so modern.

    It is now available in a tremendous Criterion version, so there should be no excuse on the part of cinephiles to miss this film. I introduce it to as many people as I can, and I consider it an act of kindness paid forward.
  • Depicts the end days of a decadent zamindar (landlord) in Bengal, and his efforts to uphold his family prestige even when faced with economic adversity.

    After the box office failure of "Aparajito", Ray desperately needed a hit film and decided to make a film based on both a popular piece of literature and a film that would incorporate Indian music. It was the first film to extensively incorporate classical Indian music and dancing.

    For the life of me, I haven't found an Indian film -- classic or contemporary -- that I really liked. The "Apu trilogy" does nothing for me, and Bollywood is a disaster. But "Music Room" may be the first exception... and it is precisely because of the traditional music. The cinematography is really good, but that music!
  • Warning: Spoilers
    Satyajit Ray made "The Music Room" in 1958, a few years after "Pather Panchali" and before completing the rest of the Apu Trilogy and like them, it too is a masterpiece. It's about the sin of pride and how it destroys the supercilious old landlord Biswambhar Roy, (a magnificent performance from Chhabi Biswas), whose idea of 'keeping up with the Jones'' is to squander all he has on musical evenings that will outdo those of his nearest neighbour. It's also about the transformative affect of music, of which there is much and all of it wonderful. Although you might say it destroys him Biswambhar is also redeemed by opening up his music room for one last great concert.

    This is also one of the cinema's greatest studies of obsession and of loneliness. If "Pather Panchali" were not enough this confirmed Ray's stature as one of world cinema's greatest directors and it is a film that remains as powerful today as it did when it first appeared. Treasure it.
  • Warning: Spoilers
    The premise of the movie is quite good. It unfolds like a greek tragedy, wherein you know what's coming and still you hitch a ride in the protagonist's car (or elephant in this case!). As with many of Shakespeare's characters, his own flaw i.e, his excessive pride leads to his ultimate destruction.

    This is the story of an aging and lonely zamindar who tries to live the final days of his life with as much splendor as possible. He has seen a lot of ups and downs in his life (in fact more than most people). Being blue-blooded, it seems that all he's ever been trained for is ruling people and having expensive tastes. Thus, once the zamindari system gets abolished, he has nothing to turn to. By today's standards, he's quite a difficult man to live with. He's prejudiced towards the capitalist neighbor who has made his own fortune through his own hard work. He doesn't really pay any attention to his wife's advice that he should oversee his lands better and not squander his remaining wealth throwing lavish parties. He has so much pride that just in order to upstage his neighbor, he organizes a lavish celebration impromptu, and enjoys the neighbor's discomfort. Unfortunately, the fates decide that he has run out of luck and he ends up paying a very heavy price for his pride. While crossing the river to attend the celebration, the boat carrying his wife and son gets caught in the storm and they perish. In the years since, he's been reduced to the shell of a man he once was. But even so his prejudice against the working class neighbor and his pride about his noble lineage are still present. Using the very last of his resources, much to the chagrin of his ever suffering retainers, he holds a last music and dance performance at his palace. He again bests his neighbor by paying more to the artists. Afterwards, he realizes he has totally and utterly lost everything. Then, in a fit of his old arrogance and exuberance, he decides to ride his horse. However, muddle-headed that he is, he ends up spooking the horse and is eventually thrown off it. Oh Well, at least he had a royal end!

    What I didn't like about this movie was its extremely sad mood, which clung to every scene of the film. Even the moments which were supposed to have been celebrations and parties did not uplift my mood. I realize that this is the story of a sad and lonely man, but there were moments when he was happy too. I only wish his happiness, howsoever ephemeral, had sucked me in just like his sadness did. Then, I could've felt his journey in its entirety and not just experienced the bad parts.
  • When I first saw the Music Room in a big screen at the Ice-skating Ring Calcutta, I found it to be slow but intriguing. Since then whenever I watched this film, I felt I rediscovered it once again. When I found that the Criterion Collection has released the DVD version, I didn't think twice to buy it from Amazon though the price is more than sum total of all the Satyajit DVD/VCDs I have ever purchased. With a superb digital restoration, it is an audio-visual pleasure to watch the khayal recital in the backdrop of the looming disaster, the Kathak performance, tinkling sound of the chandelier, the night scene and so on. Analysis of the film by the French television channel and by Andrew Robinson is a delightful bonus. What a love and perfection that have gone in to restore this masterpiece from oblivion in this heritage apathetic country!
  • Gorgeously photographed and poetic view of the decay of a once wealthy, now stubbornly proud old fool, subconsciously orchestrating his own doom. Memorable and worth watching, but I found it strangely hard to feel personally involved in the old fellow's tribulations - the old difference between old and new wealth is, one supposes, of great interest to those with wealth. The music is a matter of taste. How many Ray devotees would actually listen to the soundtrack? I quite liked the dancing girl but not as much as the spider or the elephant. The main actor does a fine job but couldn't make me care for someone determined to expire.
  • Warning: Spoilers
    I found this Indian Bengali film in the book 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die, I knew nothing about prior to reading about it, but I was hoping for something worthwhile, directed by Satyajit Ray (Pather Panchali, Aparajito, The World of Apu). Basically Bishwambar Roy (Chhabi Biswas) is a wealthy landowner, or zamindar, who lives in a palace, the decadent manner of his ancestors, with his wife and son and his many servants. His biggest passion, which his wife thinks of as an addiction, is music, and he spends a great deal of his fortune and time throwing lavish parties for the locals to attend concerts to be held in his magnificent music room. His wealth however is dwindling, his lands are being eroded by the local rivers, and he pays for a concert, arranged for his son's coming of age, by selling some of the family jewels. His neighbour Ganguli (Gangapada Basu) invites him to a party at his house, but Roy decides to organise a party of his own, the same day, and it costs him the last of his jewels. Roy's wife Mahamaya (Padma Devi) and son Khoka (Pinaki Sen Gupta) are killed in a storm, he becomes reclusive, and closes his music room. Many years later, he decides to hold one final concert, spending the last of his money, and again to spite and outdo Ganguli. It ends in tragedy when he rides his horse at speed on the beach, deliberately galloping towards a wrecked ship, the horse is panicked, and he falls to the floor, injuring himself, as he bleeds he dies. To be completely honest, I did not follow the full story as it was playing out, concentrating on the subtitles made this difficult I suppose, but I did enjoy the great music and dance routines that went on in the music room, all in all it a reasonable drama. Okay!
  • Just to appreciate Roshan Kumari's legendary performance -one of the most mesmerizing dancing sequences ever filmed, this masterpiece deserves a repeated viewing.

    There is something savage, auto-destructive but also the purest in form about the landlord's passion for music and childish vanity in front of his peers, which made me ponder over the place of music in our society long after the credits end. In the age of MTV and MP3, we are used to the idea of carrying routinely our favorite songs everywhere from streets to bathroom, and it's pity that we hardly experience anymore the authentic ambiance of intimate music gathering such as miraculously acted and filmed in Jalsaghar. Music in other era and other place must have been high point and extra-ordinary moment of community life, source of the spiritual inspiration for civil life as well as its destruction. The decor and lighting of the music room is sumptuous and otherworldly, in perfect contrast with the wearisome monotony of domestic scenes the declining aristocrat is forced to endure.
  • "The Newsweek" magazine once asked Henri Cartier-Bresson , the great French photographer considered to be the father of modern photojournalism , during an interview to name his favorite film. Bresson replied -" Satyajit's Ray's 'The Music Rom'. An old film but one that made an indelible impression on my mind."

    "The Music Room" is a film that led to greatness by Satyajit Ray's devotion to a single mood: elegiac. Ray isn't alone in sculpting this great piece. The acting by Chabi Biswas as the crumbling aristocrat Huzar Biswambhar Roy, cinematography by Subrata Mitra and music direction by Ustad Vilayat Khan all contribute immensely. The film adaptation of Tarashankar Banerjee's short story but instead of creating an exact adaptation, Satyajit Ray gave his own spin to the film, making music, rather being an interlude, an integral part of the screenplay.

    In "Jalsaghar or The Music Room", Ray examines the age-old conflict between the landed nobility and the rich without pedigree, between those who dwell in the past and those who embrace the future. Using the same meticulous, unforced style employed in his celebrated "Apu Trilogy",Ray explores how one man's need for a pampered, sumptuous lifestyle leads inexorably towards his complete ruin. It's a fascinating snapshot of Indian culture in the 1930s, and a cautionary tale about the dangers of an inflated opinion of self-worth.

    Set in the 1930's with the emerging nouveau rich, Roy is the last in a long of rich patriarchs, stumbling as his estate diminishes but clinging till the end to his refined means. Roy lives in a mansion in the middle of a desert, a symbol of his isolation from encroaching destitute. Roy is frequently filmed alone, as are other subjects (his dog, horse, elephant).

    The film begins with the elderly Zamindar (landlord) sitting alone, staring blankly in his back garden overlooking a once proud space. He is served by one of his two humble and loyal servants. The story flashes back some 15-20 years to a more glorious time when the younger Huzar, with his young son Khoka and wife Padma (the realist/pragmatist to Huzar's idealism) was the class of his region, hosting luxurious concerts in his home. Huzar's centerpiece, his ivory tower and final refuge from the external reality/realism is the titular music room. The room reflects the Huzar's pride, his heirloom, his inner soul. Ray draws us in spatially, in concentric circles, from the outer oasis, to the backyard pool/yard, to the mansion, to the music room and further yet, the music room's stage. Likewise Mitra's camera often, and nearly always in relation to Roy, dollies inwards toward Roy. The movement not only serves to honor the character and make us feel more empathy toward him, but counterpoints the film's maze-like construction.

    Chhabi Biswas gives a superb performance as the crumbling feudal landlord. Subrata Mitra's cinematography and music by Ustad Vilayat Khan all contribute immensely to create the atmosphere. " Music Room" is a very visual film -- there are numerous ingenious shots (the insect dying in the glass, the bliss of an elephant being bathed in the river, the joy of the servants reopening the dusty music room, the way the chandelier gets reflected in the wine glass revealing Huzur's states of mind , and the last scene where a spider crawls up the leg of his own portrait) and a stirring dance sequence. The camera movements reinforce the character and highlight film's maze-like construction and Roy being trapped in his past.

    "The Music Room" remains as a majestic masterpiece of a man's monumental effort to cling to his illustrious legacy and hold his head high when his feet wither.
  • MartinTeller12 January 2012
    Glorious filmmaking, a spellbinding morality tale of pride. Elegant cinematography, a perfect location and an elaborate set, and three amazing musical performances, each more electrifying than the last. I could watch that final dance over and over again. And of course, there's Chhabi Biswas dominating in the lead (although the other actors are excellent as well), portraying a man caught between his pride and the changing times, and suffering the consequences. The film isn't perfect -- for one thing, I'd like to see more time devoted to Khoka to help establish the emotional connection, not to mention Roy's wife -- but it is quite magnificent and captivating.
  • Warning: Spoilers
    No review could ever do this incredible film full justice. This is not Satyajit Ray's most famous work but it's probably his most satisfying. The cinematography, shadow & light play alongside the film's music combine to perfectly highlight the moments of elation and ultimate downfall of its lead character. Chhabi Biswas is perfectly cast as the ageing zamindar oblivious to his world crumbling down around him. Reportedly panned by some critics on its release in India, the film went on to find success in Western Europe. Now after years of having to contend with grainy transfers on DVD, New York's Criterion Collection have released a pristine remastered edition that highlights every single beautifully shot frame. The cleaned up audio does wonders for the incredible music & classical dance scenes, which feature a guest appearance from Ustad Waheed Khan. If you have any interest in real cinema and even if you're not a Ray fan, this is one of the greatest examples of what a totally flawless film looks like.
  • My Rating : 8/10

    Classical music is hardly ever put to better use in a film - there's a magic spell that Satyajit Ray weaves with his extraordinary juxtaposition of actors, setting, dance, dialogues - a total Satyajit Ray gesamtkunstwerk.

    Must-watch for any cinephile - while Pather Panchali is one of the greatest in cinema - Jalsaghar is a beautiful addition to the late director's filmography.
  • sol-18 September 2005
    There is quite a bit that I admired about this Indian film, however there are also a number of aspects that, whether it be for objective or subjective reasons, I did not particularly about it. On the positive side, what the film has to say about excessive pride is interesting, as are the motivations of the main character. The photography is fascinating, not only because of the shots with mirrors but the general panning is effective too, capturing well the excellent sets. Music is an element that I found applied very effectively at times to establish the mood, however at other times it seemed inserted with little reason behind it. The high contrast prints are good for certain scenes, such as the fireworks, but the feel they generally provide is graininess, which makes the film rather uncomfortable to look at. One of the aspects that I did not like at all was the way in which the story was told. The film is mostly collection of images threaded together, rather than a series of connecting events. Some scenes, such as the main character's son riding an elephant or watching a painter, tend to disturb the flow of the plot. Another point is the supporting characters, all of whom are either silly or just lightly developed, but at least there is a good character at the center of the plot. It might also be a bit hard for those not familiar with Indian culture to decipher certain events. The last thing that I would complain about is however the final few minutes of the film in which performance is treated as more important than the character's reactions. So overall, what can I say? Some seem to believe that this is a masterpiece, and maybe it is, but I myself simply cannot agree with that charge. I do however think that it is a good piece of cinema, and I agree that it is deserving of respect. Even if one may not enjoy it, there is enough to be appreciated here to make it a worthwhile watch.
  • Besides of all of the well known, familiar, typical Bollywood type of movies, India was also capable of delivering some genuinely good, little movies.

    What makes this movie a good one is that it's being a rather simplistic and little drama, that actually works out more effective because of that. It focuses mainly one main character, that is slowly starting to realize he is loosing everything because of the changing times. It's a movie that works on a dramatic level with its main character and makes all of his emotions and feeling come across very realistic and almost sensible.

    Of course the movie is not as stylized and perfectly put together as a big Hollywood movie from around the same time period but nevertheless "Jalsaghar" still is one fine put together movie, by director Satyajit Ray. You can really tell he is a director that progressed over the years, as he gained more and more experience, recognition and money to work with.

    Really visually this movie is being great. I really liked the black & white cinematography by Subrata Mitra, who started out his movie career along with Satyajit Ray. It's a movie with an heavy Indian atmosphere over it, so the lovers of its culture will definitely be able to appreciate this movie, all the more.

    Simply one fine, effective little drama.

    8/10

    http://bobafett1138.blogspot.com/
  • Warning: Spoilers
    There are many places where this film could have ended, and it would have been a better film, such as (a) after the storm, (b) with the house in ruins, even (c) after the triumphant final performance. Instead, after a mostly serious film, an absurd ending is quickly tacked on, insulting the audience.

    Since so many people are promoting this film, I'm going to dwell on the negative, although keep in mind that I do think it's worth watching.

    Among the several weaknesses of the film are: (1) the man's relationship to his wife/courtesan is not made clear. She appears out of nowhere, has a few scenes, and disappears never to be seen again. but we're told she survived the trip. (2) the man's relationship to his son, whom he seems to genuinely miss when he's gone, although perhaps more out of a blood-line legacy thing than a personal relationship. (3) everyone's relationship to the nouveau-riche down the block is unclear -- why do they attack his car? Why doesn't he initially like the music? Is he just as lazy as the hero of our story?

    A particular annoyance is the filmmaker's determination to dwell on every last note of the very grating and entirely unnecessary music. It doesn't move the plot. It doesn't reveal character. It does set the scene, which is good. But in some cases, particularly during the dance, the singing and instruments are heard even though the singers and musicians are clearly not making noise. Anyway, the music is local flavour, and we get the point after a few minutes. We don't need to be drowned in it. I learned on IMDb that portions of the vocalizations were not words, and that's why they had no subtitles. As closed captions often do, the subtitling should have told us this, so we know that we aren't missing any meaning.

    I'm ambivalent about the storm. It's described as a cyclone (at least in the English subtitles) which it clearly is not. We have summer storms that look like that where I live on a regular basis, and they're nothing. Yet, I also applaud the use of what appears to be actual lightning in a film. That's pretty rare, and should be encouraged.

    Despite all that, it's still a good story of obsession, bigotry, and entitlement, living in a past that most could not afford.

    For what it's worth, and not to say these are reasonable comparisons, but the films that came to my mind watching this one were: any of the Grey Gardens films, and A Streetcar Named Desire (1951).
  • brian-ariotti11 November 2008
    In the fourth feature film directed by Satyajit Ray, Jalsaghar, we are treated to a magnificent spectacle of musical performances, Hindu dance, and a powerful film thrown some place in the mix. Jalsaghar tells the gloomy tale of a landlord living in Bengal whom has just lost his wife and beloved son in a horrid boating accident. The landlord, Roy (Chhabi Biswas), takes to a basic role of silence and mourning by spending his days sitting aside his hookah to pass the time. Biswas is exceptional in his performance of Roy by revealing a side to the character of near-perfect emptiness in a human being; he shows us what the empty body of a man can become.

    The film is a decorative wonder to watch and hear to any degree. A graceful and vivid use of cinematography brings out the rich and sweeping palace in which Roy spends his time. Various close-ups of chandeliers and jewelry create a montage of empty wealth. Later on in the film when we are introduced to the many performances which will be carried out in the landlord's music room, the film comes full circle as an audio delight as well. Beautiful Hindu compositions are performed in full length throughout sweeping-music video like coverage scanning the pitch-perfect vocalists on to the unique Indian instruments tooting away. As the music grows to inspire Roy to overcome his grief, we grow along with Roy and feel the inspiration of the songs as well.

    Despite its depressing subject matter, Jalsaghar is a great delight throughout its in entire runtime. Sympathizing with the victimized Roy as well as his loyal and motivational subjects, you will really overcome an exquisite experience as the characters try to pick Roy's spirits up through words, song, and dance. Overall this is a must-see film for anyone with a passion for film, music, or both although it is recommended you enter in good spirt.
  • The only Satyajit Ray films I'd seen before watching The Music Room were the three that make up The Apu Trilogy. He's a well-respected filmmaker, and I generally liked that trilogy, so thought it'd be worth seeing a little more from him.

    I guess The Music Room feels very simple, telling a story about one guy who has an obsession with music, and it ends up affecting his life. It looks at some issues around class and fitting in with society and all that - maybe a good deal of it went over my head, but it all felt like that was much of the film, and then many other scenes seemed there to celebrate certain songs and dance numbers. It's not quite a musical, but much of the film is about music, sort of in a way that felt disconnected from the rest of the story, at least to me.

    I was glad to give it a shot, though, even if the relative barebones feel of it all made me realize I must be missing something. The dramatic elements and the music parts are both good, but I was at a loss trying to figure out how they coherently meshed into one movie.

    Everything looked very good, at least - it's quite a beautiful film, thanks to where everything's set (not sure what was a set and what wasn't), and the visual style's strong. Also a lot of mirrors - that plus the story of a man being the reason for his own downfall made me think of Citizen Kane a little, but other than those two things, I think it would be a stretch to compare The Music Room to that film.
  • Some of the Bollywood movies are excellent, but others are of little interest to anyone but India natives or language speakers.

    This subtitled film (ESPECIALLY this one) is not one I would have wanted to see, and didn't deserve the 8.2 rating is had on May 12, 2007, but maybe it does to someone from India.

    The the film is grainy and the topic is "corny" to me (a 'murrican).

    I suggest that the ratings of Bollywood films be taken with a "grain of salt" until you have viewed several of them.

    I would like to see ratings marked "subtitled version" or "original language version".
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