When the Red Flag Fades

Srijit Mukherji is arguably the most prolific filmmaker in Bengali cinema. His prodigious output inevitably raises questions about his versatility and creative consistency, just as his impressive tally of awards invites scrutiny of his artistic credentials. Yet his recent films, Shotti Bole Shotti Kichu Nei and Padatik, a bio-fiction on filmmaker Mrinal Sen, demonstrate his creative range and assured choice of subjects. With Winkle Twinkle, Mukherji reinforces his standing as one of the more...

min read

Srijit Mukherji is arguably the most prolific filmmaker in Bengali cinema. His prodigious output inevitably raises questions about his versatility and creative consistency, just as his impressive tally of awards invites scrutiny of his artistic credentials. Yet his recent films, Shotti Bole Shotti Kichu Nei and Padatik, a bio-fiction on filmmaker Mrinal Sen, demonstrate his creative range and assured choice of subjects. With Winkle Twinkle, Mukherji reinforces his standing as one of the more distinctive and enduring filmmakers in Indian cinema. Sixteen years after his directorial debut, Autograph, a personal take on Satyajit Ray’s Nayak, he continues to experiment with form and subject. Like several of Mukherji’s films, Winkle Twinkle draws inspiration from a celebrated Bengali play of the same name, written by Bratya Basu and staged in 2002. Basu, a formidable figure in Bengali theatre before turning to full-time politics, had drawn on Washington Irving’s Rip Van Winkle, first published in 1819. Irving’s protagonist falls asleep and wakes up years later to discover that the world has changed beyond recognition while he remains essentially the same. Mukherji and screenwriter Padmanabha Dasgupta transpose this premise to contemporary Kolkata, turning it into a sharp political allegory. Sabyasachi Sen, a committed Communist activist, is presumed killed in police firing during the Emergency in 1976. His body is never found. In reality, he falls asleep and awakens in 2002, physically unchanged but confronted by a world that has moved on without him. The shock begins at home. His wife has aged, and his children have grown up. His son, Indro, who idolised Che Guevara alongside his father as a child, has become an active supporter of the Trinamool Congress. He has little patience for his father’s unwavering allegiance to the CPI(M), a party whose ideological universe has been shaken by the collapse of the Soviet Union. His daughter, born after his disappearance, studies at Indira Gandhi University, a name that evokes for Sabyasachi only the prime minister associated with the Emergency. Posters announcing Mamata Banerjee’s rise confront him on Kolkata’s streets. The political landscape has changed beyond recognition, but Sabyasachi cannot accept that the movement to which he devoted his life has lost its former certainty. Technology bewilders him. More distressing, however, is the discovery that an old party comrade has become a leader of a new political formation and amassed wealth through dubious means. The revolutionary’s world has not merely changed; its moral foundations appear to have crumbled. His wife, once his comrade and fellow traveller, offers him refuge, welcoming his return with affection. Their son, however, refuses to accept him readily. The father-son conflict becomes a confrontation between two political generations: one shaped by ideological conviction and sacrifice, the other by a more pragmatic politics of power. The film moves back and forth through time, mirroring Sabyasachi’s bewilderment and drawing the audience into his confusion. Politics, technology, education and popular culture have all changed, often in ways he cannot comprehend. Some of the sharpest moments are also the most humorous. Sabyasachi recalls filmmaker Ritwik Ghatak marching in a Marxist procession, unaware of how cinema has changed and that another Hrithik — Roshan — is now the more familiar name. When a man at a tea stall expresses astonishment that he has never heard of Sachin Tendulkar, Sabyasachi walks away, explaining that the only Sachin he knows is Sachin Dev Burman. A particularly telling image captures the film’s political imagination: a street magician’s scarf changes from red to green. The symbolism is unmistakable. The red of the Left, once dominant in Bengal, gives way to the green associated with the Trinamool Congress. The cinematography is equally impressive, particularly the transition from colour to black-and-white when the narrative revisits the past. Ritwik Chakraborty is outstanding as Sabyasachi, convincingly conveying the bewilderment and stubbornness of a man unable to reconcile his convictions with reality. Anasuya Majumdar as his middle-aged wife and Sohini Sarkar as her younger self provide strong support. The sudden violence in the father-son confrontation is perhaps the film’s principal weakness, disrupting an otherwise nuanced exploration of ideological estrangement. Yet, Winkle Twinkle remains one of Mukherji’s finest films. Its central insight is both poignant and political: Sabyasachi’s tragedy lies not simply in having lost years of his life, but in discovering that history has moved on without him and that the revolution he believed would change the world has itself become a relic of the past. (The writer is an National Award-winning film scholar.)

From Jail to Top Seat

Kiran D. Tare

Dec 1, 2024

3 min read

Updated: Dec 2, 2024

In the hinterlands of Jharkhand, where dense forests meet rich coal seams, Hemant Soren has forged a political career defined by adversity and resilience - a testament to which was his remarkable comeback in leading the Jharkhand Mukti Morcha (JMM)-led Mahagathbandhan coalition to victory in the recent state assembly elections.

The poll results were testament also to the steadfast loyalty 49-year-old Soren commands of the tribal communities of his state. Soren’s most recent political resurrection reads almost like a myth. Arrested earlier this year in a money-laundering case tied to an alleged land scam, he spent weeks in judicial custody at Ranchi’s Birsa Munda Central Jail. His detractors, led by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), seized the moment, framing him as emblematic of a corrupt political elite. Yet, as the dust settled from a bruising electoral battle, it was Soren who emerged victorious, leading the Mahagathbandhan to a commanding win, vanquishing a BJP campaign bolstered by national heavyweights like Himanta Biswa Sarma and Shivraj Singh Chouhan.

In the days following his release on bail, Soren had hit the campaign trail with a singular focus. His wife, Kalpana, had already taken up the reins during his absence, rallying voters with a narrative of victimhood and resistance. Together, they turned Soren’s incarceration into a rallying cry against what they framed as the BJP’s ‘divide and rule’ strategy.

The BJP’s campaign, focused heavily on the issue of Bangladeshi infiltration, failed to resonate with the state’s tribal heartland. Rhetoric about “mini-Bangladeshs” in regions like Santhal Pargana only deepened suspicions of a communal agenda, one that Soren skilfully countered with appeals to Jharkhand’s indigenous identity.

Soren’s political trajectory has never been straightforward. Born in Nemra, a village near Hazaribagh, in 1975, he was raised in the shadow of his father, Shibu Soren, a towering figure in Jharkhand’s political history and the face of the movement for statehood.

Hemant, initially an unlikely heir, was thrust into leadership after the untimely death of his elder brother Durga in 2009. His ascent to the top of the JMM, and eventually to the Chief Minister’s office in 2013, was marked by both opportunity and tumult—a fractured coalition with the BJP, a brief stint in opposition, and a pivotal return to power in 2019.

Over the years, Soren has cultivated an image as a protector of Jharkhand’s tribal rights. His opposition to the BJP’s attempts to amend laws protecting tribal land in 2016 cemented his status as a champion for his community. It is a narrative he has leaned on heavily, portraying himself as a defender of Jharkhand’s Adivasis against external exploitation.

Soren’s tenure as Chief Minister has been a mix of welfare-oriented policies and battles with the central government. His administration has expanded pensions, waived loans for over 1.75 lakh farmers, and launched schemes to bring government services directly to remote villages. At the same time, he has not hesitated to criticize the BJP-led central government, accusing it of extracting Jharkhand’s resources without fair compensation.

But Soren’s path has been fraught with challenges. Internal dissent within the JMM surfaced when his sister-in-law, Sita Soren, defected to the BJP earlier this year, reportedly after being sidelined in favour of Kalpana. Allegations of impropriety—most notably a mining lease controversy in 2022—have repeatedly tested his political survival skills.

Still, for all the controversies, Soren remains a figure of enduring appeal among Jharkhand’s tribal population. His earthy demeanour and focus on social welfare have cultivated a deep connection with his constituents. Over the past months, he and Kalpana addressed hundreds of rallies, casting the election as a referendum not just on his governance but on the soul of Jharkhand itself.

As he takes office for another term, Soren’s political legacy is far from settled and his battles with the BJP and federal agencies are likely far from over. Yet, in a state where the ground is both rich with coal and riven with fault lines, his ability to endure against odds both legal and political has cemented his place as one of Jharkhand’s most consequential leaders.

When the Red Flag Fades

From Jail to Top Seat

Recent Posts

Comments