Second entry in the "Apu" trilogy continues to deliver it's poetic, believable story of poverty, tragedy and a little bit hope. It has the same strengths as the original really something that is seldom to see in a sequel. Still beautifully shot and edited as we see how Apu grows up and loses a tiny bit of his innocence on his way.
Second of the Apu trilogy, wherein Apu reaches adolescence and begins his new life in the city. This film deeply affected me, as it tackles the deep fear of losing loved ones while being away living our lives. Ray mastered the art of emotional manipulation and I hate him for singlehandedly ruining me.
What is most admirable about Ray's work is the way he deals with his subject matter. Often, it is some pretty hard stuff. But he is too smart to think that life is all tragedy and no relief. He's a master of the little beauties of life, and balancing the pain with the joy. No matter how bad things get, there is always hope in Ray's world.
the faulty and reductive boundaries between world films as pigeonholes of their own culture is shattered by the power of the imagery of this and the two other films in the trilogy. the films are not just about india but us as humans. ray, along with ghatak, has given us these films as a priceless gift to mankind.
Aparajito is a melancholy film that straddles the industrial transition of Bengali society and the subsequent shifts in consciousness. So many of the emotions conveyed by Apu and his mother feel universal and genuine. While I missed some of the charm found in Pather Panchali, Aparajito finds its strength by dramatizing transition and opposition.
As Aparajito cover so much wider a swath of time than Pather Panchali, the sense of the cyclical, seasonal passage(s) of time becomes more foregrounded - of time eddying, of time lost (and found) - however, the requisite amount of story material that must be dealt with is amplified. We are invited to occupy this world, to be carried by its quiet currents, at the same time arriving at powerful, cathartic plateaus.
The older you get, the more remarkable it seems that everything that happened to you is all the same life—it feels more like different mini-lives placed end to end. From the opening shots from a moving train, this transience is the heart of part 2 of the Apu Trilogy. Where part 1 was rooted in one place, part 2 cycles through locations & casts and ends before you get your bearing. Which is why I'm glad there's a 3rd.
In a sense, though I prefer Pather Panchali, this seems the most impressive of the trilogy. It starts out as a tale about a village family trying to survive in the big city (Benares), but a half hour in becomes a radically different and much more profound film about the tragedy of the parent-child bond. A good case could be made that Sarbojaya (the mother) is one of the most tragic female characters in films.