Tiner Taloyār remains the best drama ever written about the Bengali commercial stage, therefore any revival must treat it with obeisance. Suman Mukhopadhyay does just that—except for an aberrant epilogue—and in doing so, unveils a new perspective on Utpal Dutt’s masterpiece that critics have not discussed sufficiently: gender. I must commend Dutt’s perspicacity in identifying a major problem among celebrated actor-managers of exploiting their actresses for the supposedly greater glory of theatre and, simultaneously, for themselves. This becomes all the more ironic today when, directors having replaced actor-managers, the same practice prevails. Everyone should see the play precisely for this reason.
Dutt also criticized the neglect of Kolkata’s underclass through his depiction of the sewer cleaner who obviously has no interest in the babu-pastime of theatre, and we concur: what is the point of an art form that cannot ameliorate the living conditions of oppressed labourers? These two sections of society emerge as the most telling in Mukhomukhi’s production, more than the much-acknowledged revolutionary fervour.
Thus, Anandarupa Chakraborty’s performance as the vegetable-vendor Mayna—whom Debshankar Haldar as Captain-babu transforms into a prima donna a la Eliza Doolittle, in Dutt’s tip of his top hat to Shaw, and then shamelessly asks her to please the company owner—stands out, establishing her arrival as an actor-singer par excellence (photo). Everyone else plays their parts and sings to perfection, while Sanchayan Ghosh’s design of a stage within the stage, constructed by Bilu Dutta, brings the text’s metatheatrical core literally to centrestage.
After such a class act, to conclude with a simplistic and long medley of songs from other plays is not only unwarranted but ruins the complexity of Dutt’s classic. The sooner Mukhopadhyay gets rid of it, the better.
25 August 2024