A tribute to the art of a cinematographer
It is more like a little primer for lay readers rather than an exhaustive probe into the intricate craft of cinematography.
A book devoted entirely to the life and work of a cinematographer, and that too the one who operated exclusively in the non-mainstream space, is a rarity in Indian publishing industry.
In a nation where showbiz glitz and star wattage holds complete sway over collective consciousness, the crucial contribution of film technicians is barely recognised, let alone extensively documented. Through the Eyes of a Cinematographer: A Biography of Soumendu Roy, authored by Devapriya Sanyal, is, therefore, a book to be celebrated.
Roy, now in his mid-80s, retired a decade ago. Having been a close collaborator of one of the world’s greatest filmmakers, he is a rich repository of first-hand knowledge of Bengali cinema that can enrich our understanding of a period that was marked by a brilliant creative efflorescence.
Through the Eyes of a Cinematographer: A Biography of Soumendu Roy, which focuses on one man’s life and the part he played in some of the most timeless films, does a fine job of recording his memories of an eventful career for posterity. For that reason alone, Through the Eyes of a Cinematographer will hold its place among essential books about Bengali films of the golden era, spearheaded by Satyajit Ray and his more commercial contemporaries like Tapan Sinha and Tarun Majumdar, for both of whom Roy served as a director of photography.
Packed with lots of information, the book is an easy read as it does not seek to dive too deep into the overtly technical facets of Roy’s camerawork, which was pressed predominantly and most famously into the service of the films of Ray in the course of a varied career that saw many a memorable peak.
But this is also one of the reasons why at times Sanyal’s chronicle seems to merely skim the surface of Roy’s complex trade.
It is more like a little primer for lay readers rather than an exhaustive probe into the intricate craft of cinematography.
But that is only a minor quibble unlikely to undermine the book’s relevance.
The very last paragraph of Sanyal’s book starts thus: “Once in a while, there emerges a cinematographer who, through his genius, ignites a certain spark, necessary to elevate the art of cinema to another level of expression and appreciation… Soumendu Roy has been one such great.”
That Roy is a great cinematographer is beyond an iota of doubt. But how he went about attaining that exalted stature does not come across in its entirety in this book despite the fact that the author fills us in with all the professional and personal details that would normally make for an effective biography.
Sanyal assigns 40-odd pages to Roy’s “early years”, plunging headlong into his life with this opening sentence: “Soumendu Roy was born to Kanak Kumar Roy and Gargi Roy on February 7, 1932, in a house on Grey Street, north Calcutta.”
While that may not be the most exciting way to kick off a book about a movie cameraman, it serves to lay out the author’s primary purpose in clear terms.
It suggests that what we are going to read in the book is a straightforward, unvarnished biography — an account of the life of a man who was in the thick of the action during the making Ray’s globally feted cinematic masterpieces from the 1960s all the way up to the 1980s.
The book goes on to tell us that Roy grew up in the princely state of Dharamjaigarh, then a part of Madhya Pradesh and now in Chhattisgarh, where his culturally active father worked for the royal family. He moved to Calcutta (now Kolkata) when he was about 10 and joined the Technicians’ Studio as a camera assistant when he was barely out of his teens.
He picked up the ropes from the very best in the business, starting under the tutelage of Ramananda Sengupta (this was not long after the latter had worked with French director Jean Renoir on The River and completed filming Ritwik Ghatak’s path-breaking Nagarik, shot in 1952, released in 1977). Roy then joined Satyajit Ray’s legendary cinematographer Subrata Mitra and never looked back. During the making of the epochal Pather Panchali, Roy was given charge as the caretaker of the Mitchell camera that Ray had hired from Technicians’ Studio.
This was Roy’s first experience of an outdoor shoot and the long stint with Subrata Mitra prepared him for the challenges of being an independent cinematographer.
That opportunity first came his way with Ray’s Teen Kanya (1961). He continued to shoot for the master until Ghare Baire (1985).
Lighting and framing could well be likened to the cover and binding of a book. They not only hold the film together, they also determine the depth and extent of its visual appeal.
Like a badly designed book could put off a reader, an inaptly filmed piece of cinema could be a big downer for the audience.
The likes of Roy play a key role in ensuring that doesn’t come to pass. But how often do they receive their due share of recognition?
This book is as much a tribute to an exceptional cameraman as it is a general acknowledgement of the centrality of the art of cinematography.