Mon Amour: "phuchka" re-invented
Subhrajit Mitra has re-invented Rembrandt. He has re-invented Sebastian Bach. He has re-invebted Jibananondo Das. He has re-invented the verses of William Butler Yeats. He has re-invented neo-realism and he has re-invented "phuchka". Yes. you read right. Mon Amour recycles around a mishap happening only because of an incident relating to "du takar phuchka". But whether Subhrajit succeeds in re-inventing Rabindranath remains unanswered. Mon Amour creates a beautiful dichotomy between the surreal or neoreal and the hardcore real world. While the voyeurist discovers Labanya as Tilottoma in Rajarshi's make belief world, he re-discovers her as Brishti in the dreaded real world. This intertwinement has been the crux of the dilemma depicted in Mon Amour. But let's face the fact. Mon Amour cannot be evaluated as something (or some creation) inspired from Sesher Kabita. Amit, Labanya and Shovonlal have been squandered and lost in the layers and sublayers of inconsequential techniques and philosophies in Mon Amour. The film is undoubtedly unique. The director has randomly borrowed ideas and treatments from the Italian neorealist legacy of the 1940's which leaves a deep impact upon the psychic of the film. The recitation of Bonolota Sen by Soumitra Chattopadhyay has been brilliantly timed. Subhrajit Mitra has shown courage and creativity. But may be he lacks that pristine touch somewhere. Rakesh Kumar's camera work is absolutely maglificent. The silhouetted figurines (perennial trees) deserve kudos. The performances are top-notch and go around with the philosophical dialogues. Saheb as the modern Amit and Tota as Shovonlal (Jeet) are mature and almost picture perfect. Rituparna's beauty overshadows her acting prowess once again. The Rabindrasangeets have been used well while the colour treatment in the imaginary - impressionist world creates positive impression. Background score by Kalyan Sen Barat is not exceptional but surely above average. What the film lacks is a "heart" and what is does not lack is "boredom" and "pathetic pace". Still Mon Amour is an honest effort from a debutant and deserves bertter recognition amongst the debris of devastating filmographies.