This is the first film of Satyajit Ray that I have seen, and probably one of the first if not the first non-westernized Indian films. Most of my previous viewings like the wonderful Monsoon Wedding by Mira Nair were made by directors who live and created in Hollywood. This wonderful film made in 1964 is even more a revelation, as its director is a master, contemporary and at the same level as the best directors of his generation.

The setting of the story is in Calcutta's high society of the end of the 19th century, in a period of social and national conflict that is all the time on the background but is not really the center of the story. Based on a story by Rabindranath Tagore, almost all the conflict happens in the house of the wealthy journalist and newspaper owner Bupathi, which is filmed with refinement in all its details by the master camera of Subrata Mitra. My feeling after the first scenes was that I am watching a play by Ibsen or Chekhov transplanted in a different continent and this feeling was induced not only by the one set staging but also or especially by the strong character of the principal character, Bupathi's beautiful wife Charulata. We immediately feel her loneliness, her need to connect with people, her emotional capacity which he represses by watching the human landscape of the street. When Buphati will being his younger brother Amal in the house, the two will become involved, in a never consumed forbidden relationship that is intense and discreet. As proving or acting openly according to sentiments is not part of the culture the characters belong to, Charulata will prove her sentiments by demonstrating her creative and intellectual qualities, in a world and a time dominated by men. The ending may look like a melodrama, but it's perfectly plausible.

Charulata is acted by Madhabi Mukherjee in a flawless and sensible performance that reminds Yasujiro Ozu's preferred actress Setsuko Hara. It is not however the only aspect that reminded me the Japanese master. The vibration of nature in 'Charulata' complements and amplifies the feelings of the heroes, same as in Ozu's movies. The reliance on actors to describe feelings to the most subtle of the nuances, the delicacy and dignity of the relations, the quite storytelling and the control of story time seem all to belong to the same school of cinema that puts actors and camera work in the center of the art of film making. Ray's cinema has more of a social and historical context though, at least in this film. There is also a key difference in the camera work approach. While both directors control the art of framing and build beautiful and memorable scenes, there is much more dynamics in Ray's camera movement, with daring shots that represent much more the characters view of the world than the director's view as at Ozu.

'Charulata' was for me one of these revelations of a new world that happens once in a awhile in the life of a cinema lover. One more proof that good cinema transcends genres and film schools, and succeeds at best when it talks directly to the hearts of the viewers.

**POSSIBLE SPOILERS**

Lacking the formidable cultural legacy of his earlier Apu trilogy, CHARULATA (Ray's 11th film) lacks nothing else – if Ray's overall style was derived from neo-realism; CHARULATA proved that – in his own uncluttered way – he was also a master of style and subtle elegance.

CHARULATA was perhaps Ray's most technically stunning work, featuring an elegant - if moody - story shot in a manner that finds Ray experimenting a bit. The story is set in an upper-class, intellectual household in 1890s India, and the period setting is rendered in great detail – giving the film a lush, living beauty that (thanks to the stunning cinematography of Subrata Mitra) never crosses over into stuffiness. In a handful of scenes, a French new wave influence can also be seen – primarily at the very end, and also in an earlier scene featuring the title character's recollections (in a quick-moving montage) of childhood memories.

Based on a story by Rabindranath Tagore, the film explores marital complacency, as Bhupati (a wealthy publisher and political idealist, devotes the majority of his time to his publishing business, and to political interests, and grows increasingly isolated from his wife, Charulata. Charulata – as an attractive upper-class wife, is essentially expected to manage the household, and not much else, and is increasingly both lonesome (Bhupati is a generally pleasant enough husband, though also a severe workaholic who is rarely around, and - in his sexual politics - he is a product of his time) and intellectually restless.

In the midst of this, Bhupati's younger brother Amal arrives – Amal, a romantically inclined bohemian and recent college graduate who is searching for work while also pursuing literary ambitions, and has temporarily moved into the household. Amal and Charulata are instantly drawn to each other – first as intellectual companions, before an awareness of attraction is recognized. The two are plainly aware of the impossibility of the unrequited relationship, as Bhupati – after discovering than an employee has been embezzling form him – is then devastated to discover that his wife is turning away from him.

To highlight the increasing distance between each of the three characters, CHARULATA is formalistic in it's look (with the handful of well-placed new-wave-inflected scenes adding textural complexity and emotionalism),with the classical touches of the cinematography underscoring the characters' ever-increasing distance from each other. Exploring sexual and class politics - with great depth and complexity - in a historical setting (while – in its' exploration of idealistic, nationalistic politics – making subtle connections to the present-day handling of the same issues in Bengali society),with flawless performances from all, CHARULATA is a beautiful and haunting masterpiece.

As cinema appears to become ever more loud and brash, a work as delicate, subtle and understated as this may easily pass unnoticed, or mistaken as insipid. That is a great shame, since this is obviously a great masterpiece. Set in India in the last century, Charulata is trapped in a dull, stifling marriage. What starts off as innocent flirting with her brother-in-law soon sets off emotions that none of them, decent though they all are, can really control. There is no adultery as such - the betrayal is all in the mind - but the trust implicit in marriage is broken, and the future can only be faced with uncertainty.

This is a film of great grace and elegance, and also of considerable wit. But underneath the surface charm is a great seriousness. As always, Ray depicts the development of the characters with great insight and sensitivity, and coaxes fine performances from his cast. Western critics, in discussing this film, often draw parallels with the works of Chekhov or of Henry James, but Ray's inspiration was actually the great Bengali writer Rabindranath Tagore, on whose short novel this film was based. As a piece of film-making, it is absolute perfection - a real gem.