Exploring the extraordinary journey of Soumitra Chatterjee – actor, poet, playwright, and artist – as captured through Sanghamitra Chakraborty’s compelling narrative in a new biography. Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri speaks to the author.

Soumitra Chatterjee, an enduring legend of Indian cinema and a multifaceted genius, comes alive in Sanghamitra Chakraborty’s book Soumitra Chatterjee and His World. This comprehensive biography delves into his unparalleled contributions as an actor, poet, playwright, and artist, showcasing his collaborations with Satyajit Ray, his theatrical brilliance, and his artistic pursuits. With rare insights into his personal life, diaries, and letters, the book bridges the gap between Bengal’s cultural history and a pan-India audience. Discover the story of a Renaissance man who redefined excellence in cinema and the arts.

Soumitra Chatterjee – arguably India’s finest actor ever. And a true contemporary Renaissance Man. Be it as an actor in cinema and on stage, as a playwright, poet, editor of one of the most highly regarded literary magazines of its era, and a painter who drew praise from none other than Jogen Chowdhury – Soumitra was a multi-faceted like few others in independent history. In a new book, Sanghamitra Chakraborty sheds light on the many aspects that made Soumitra Chatterjee a legend. The author spoke to Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri on the eve of the book’s release and the actor-poet’s birth anniversary.

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: There have been a couple of very interesting books on Soumitra Chatterjee by Amitava Nag, in collaboration with the actor, covering almost all aspects of his life and career. What is it that your book seeks to bring out that the reader can discover afresh?

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: For our current generations and cinephiles beyond Bengal, Soumitra Chatterjee has largely remained Satyajit Ray’s favourite actor. As a Calcutta person in exile for almost three decades and working as a journalist, I started out by gauging how well Indians in other metros are acquainted with Soumitra and his work. And truth be told, the answer was: not enough.

I had, therefore, set out to speak to a pan-India audience through my book, for them to be acquainted with this icon of Bengali culture. Most people who do not live in Calcutta or follow the arts and culture scene here are either unaware or have very poor awareness of Soumitra Chatterjee’s contributions in these diverse fields – as theatre person, playwright, poet, essayist, editor and ultimately an exponent of fine art.

His interest and talents in these fields were shaped by the world he was born into and the turbulent times through which he grew up. Soumitra Chatterjee and His World (Viking) attempts to capture this universe in detail. Soumitra was born in the midst of the revolutionary fires of the colonial era. Bagha Jatin was his granduncle and Soumitra had been inspired by his stories and other fearless protagonists of India’s freedom struggle. Young Soumitra grew into his boyhood with vivid memories of a number of egregious events – the man-made Famine of Bengal of 1943, the vicious communal strife of 1946, the Partition of 1947 and then the coming of Independence, which turned out bittersweet given the bloodbath.

Soumitra arrived in Calcutta for his undergraduate studies in 1951, witnessing waves of desperate, homeless refugees from East Bengal reaching the city. In his Coffee House days, the city had turned into a hotbed of protests, with the rage of distressed migrants. Soumitra offers us a street view of some of the key events from this era. With its liberal political protests and thriving cultural scene, Calcutta was almost Parisian in its verve and energy.

I would like to think that in my book, Calcutta is a living entity. This was the city that inspired Soumitra and his mentor Ray to create their remarkable body of work. Their love and attachment for Calcutta was widely known, and it is through an interrogation of the life and times in the city that we sense why neither of them wanted to leave the metropolis, even though there were a number of opportunities.

Soumitra’s story is incomplete without the story of Bengali theatre and his first mentor Sisir Kumar Bhaduri, the doyen of the Bengali stage. Neither can it be wholly appreciated without the context in which early Bengali cinema came to life and thrived in the glorious studio era. In the early decades of the twentieth century, this city was the centre of national film production; Bollywood came much later.

Satyajit Ray would burst into the scene with his magnificent Pather Panchali in this very backdrop. Three sections with several chapters, in my book, feature Ray. I try to capture, through narrative-style storytelling, the other key protagonists in Soumitra’s actorly life – Uttam Kumar, with whom there are a number of fascinating episodes. Then there is Chhabi Biswas, Tapan Sinha, Madhabi Mukherjee and Sharmila Tagore. Suchitra Sen, who Soumitra did not really care for as a performer, also appears in a cameo.

I have included a number of interesting episodes from Soumitra’s life as he grew up – we pan in on him as he would discover the world of reading, and develop an obsession with Rabindranath Tagore. Later, I follow him into the College Street Coffee House, where he would meet and become friends with the exceptionally talented duo Shakti (Chattopadhyay) and Sunil (Gangopadhyay) and other poets of that generation. His early exposure to the music of Ali Akbar and Ravi Shankar, and the Bengal School of Art, all form the rich fabric of his life at the time.

I also enter parts of Soumitra’s personal life – his relationship with his parents, his wife Deepa, the children and grandchildren – that I believe have remained beyond the scope of other works, written in English, on the actor. I also had access to his diaries and letters – thanks to his daughter Poulami – with which I was able to cast a light on his extraordinary mind and the difficult parts of his journey. My regret that the actor could not be my primary source was somewhat mitigated by the perspectives and revelations from these private sources.

My book does not make the assumption that the reader is entirely aware of the sweep of Bengal’s political and cultural history and Soumitra’s place in it. My hope has been that Soumitra Chatterjee will be appreciated and evaluated with newer insights by the current generation and his story will reach Indians who live far away from Calcutta and Bengal, both literally and otherwise.  

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: An actor – in cinema and theatre – a writer and poet, an editor of one of Bengal’s most well-regarded literary journals, a painter in the last phase of his life – which is your favourite Soumitra Chatterjee and why?

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: Honestly, this is a tough one to answer in a multiple-choice format. Soumitra’s hallmark as a person was his appetite for reading and research no matter what he did. His work ethic was also extraordinary – a lot of it was strengthened and nurtured by his mentors Bhaduri and Ray. There is a very interesting diary entry in which he describes the passion and integrity of the linguist Suniti Kumar Chatterjee, a sort of gold standard for the actor, which helps us see how and why he tried to nurture his own rigour.

Soumitra Chatterjee’s fierce commitment made him who he was. His work across different disciplines fed into one another and made him a complete artist. But within this, his work as an actor both in films and on stage is probably what has moved me most, followed by what he has left behind as editor of Ekkhon, especially the story of Binodini Dashi, a series of writings and poetry by women of that era, artist Bindode Behari Mukherjee’s unpublished memoir, and Kamal Kumar Majumdar’s short fiction among them.

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: Theatre was in many ways his first and foremost love. Have you watched Soumitra live on stage and if not, do you think that was a handicap in your approach to the book? How did you deal with that?

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: When Soumitra was performing in public theatre – Rajkumar, Naam Jibon and so on – I was a bit young and my parents did not take me along to watch these plays, although I was exposed to Bengali Group Theatre productions (PLT, Bohurupee, Nandikar and others). Somehow I feel there may have been an unreasonable bias in them towards the Bengali commercial stage – the worry that it may be unsuitable for a child or adolescent.

Fortunately, I managed to watch Soumitra Chatterjee perform Raja Lear at the Bharat Rang Mahotsav in Delhi about fifteen years ago. I have always regarded Naseeruddin Shah the best stage performer in India. However, Soumitra Chatterjee’s Lear was far and away the most powerful stage performance in my opinion by an Indian actor. We watched in awe as he covered the length and breadth of the multi-layered stage, and ultimately got thrown on the floor of the stage with great force. This was a breathtaking piece of physical acting at the age of 75.

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: Tell us something about the process of your research for the book. The books you read, the films watched, the people you spoke to. Anything that leaped out in the process that made you say, ‘Wow! I did not know that’? How long has it taken you to put the book together?

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: The research process was long, though not painful. It was a delight to read through the Bengali prose compilation of Soumitra Chatterjee in two parts. Apu De of De Publications also allowed me access to excerpts from the unpublished third volume, for which I am grateful. Soumitra Chatterjee describes his world vividly, speaking from the heart in his writing. The Sisir Bhaduri sections, particularly when the ageing actor was out of work and lonely, were moving. His early encounters with Ray, especially their night-long conversation in a train compartment, were riveting.

Most of my insights about Soumitra Chatterjee, the person, were gathered from his own writings and the writings and testimonials of his friends, family and colleagues. All of this was validated by his diary entries and letters. He had left heartfelt, interesting clues – a few episodes where he had been hurting silently – in his journals down the years. I thank Poulami for trusting me with them.

Anasuya Roy Chowdhury, a film scholar and filmmaker, had done a project for the oral history project on Soumitra Chatterjee for the National Film Archives in the early 2000s. The long interview was published later and became an excellent resource for me. Catherine Berge’s documentary Gachh on Soumitra’s acting life, and several TV and video interviews I found online, were also extremely valuable.

Of course, I spoke to over 75 people for this book (note: I have been a reporter) – his family members, his close friends, his film and stage colleagues among them. I was fortunate enough to track down Nyapada, Nripendra Ganguly, who was Ray’s only surviving assistant, and like a family member to the Chatterjees for many years. Unfortunately, he passed away soon after I met him. Sandip Ray, Madhabi Mukherjee, Sharmila Tagore and Lily Chakraborty shared excellent insights and anecdotes when I interviewed them. I also consulted a number of books and academic sources for the history of Bengal, Bengali cinema and theatre, Bengal’s economy and politics, and referred to media clippings relevant to each phase of the actor’s life. Samik Bandopadhyay, the theatre scholar and an eminent film critic, and Sanjoy Mukherjee, film scholar, were of great support.

Also, it was an absolute joy to watch Soumitra’s films, particularly his wonderful work beyond the cinema of Satyajit Ray. I managed to catch a very poor print of Tarun Majumdar’s Sansar Simante on YouTube, which was memorable.

There were a number of “wow” moments – revelations mainly – and moments of thrill in the course of building this book. There had been phases when I had also started developing mixed feelings about my protagonist. But this process of living with Soumitra Chatterjee for close to three years allowed me to arrive at a place where I could create a distance, I hope, allowing me to tell his story with some degree of clarity.

It took me two years to research and write my first draft. Since the summer of last year, I returned to my manuscript to cut back sections (mainly the backdrop) and polish it for publication. 

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: In the last phase of his life, he was part of blockbusters like Belasheshe that redefined commercial success in Bengal, while giving high-calibre performances like in Mayurakshi and Peace Haven. Did you speak to these filmmakers and what was the takeaway from conversations with the new breed of filmmakers?

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: I spoke to Sandip Ray and Goutam Ghosh at length about their experiences of working with Soumitra. They had directed him in his later years and noticed that he remained as focused and eager to learn as he had been as a young actor. Among the relatively new crop of serious filmmakers, I spoke to Atanu Ghosh, Suman Ghosh, Anik Dutta and Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury, who directed him in his last phase.

The key takeaways were consistent with his earlier persona. It was widely known among filmmakers of a certain calibre that Soumitra Chatterjee’s superpower was maintaining continuity. He would make meticulous notes about the details of the previous shot – the position of a teacup, or the way he had left his shirt button, for example – and make sure it remained seamless in the next shot.

The filmmakers were uniformly impressed by Soumitra Chatterjee’s lifelong curiosity – he had remained a devoted student of screen acting and cinema even in his last few years. He would not only research and read up while preparing for a role but also made an effort to get a sense of their vision and tailor his performance accordingly. He rarely needed long briefs, yet he was anxious to understand the director’s perspective and asked thoughtful questions relating to the script. Soumitra Chatterjee obviously craved good scripts and meaningful roles, and much like in his youth, he would make copious notes about his characters along the margins of the script. He had no interest in working with directors who shouted “brilliant” after every shot; instead, he loved roles that were challenging and stimulating at once.

Soumitra had been a keen researcher all his life. While playing the role of an elderly man who was slipping into dementia in Mayurakshi, for example, he would make long meticulous notes following his conversations with director Atanu Ghosh. Ghosh’s father had been the inspiration for the role of Sushovon that Soumitra was portraying, and the director noticed how he built the character bit by bit, with attention and empathy. Suman Ghosh remembered fondly their adda sessions beyond work and was clearly enriched by Soumitra’s own understanding of cinema.

Whereas earlier Soumitra would write poetry or scribble in his journal during breaks in shooting, in his last decade Soumitra was found immersed in doodling and creating art whenever he found the time. Whereas the younger Soumitra was apparently much more prone to cracking jokes, playing pranks or engaging with his colleagues in lively conversations, the ageing Soumitra was obviously much more sombre. However, he would relish a bout of adda just as much whenever he found a likeminded person (read: well-read and interesting).

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: Everyone has his own list of favourite Soumitra Chatterjee film performances – what are yours? The top five, if you were to list.

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: Tough, once again. But I will try. Apur Sansar, Charulata, Baksho Badal, Saat Pake Bandha, Ashukh.

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: What do you make of his decision never to venture into Hindi cinema? Do you think Hindi cinema has been the loser or do you think that in the light of Uttam Kumar’s failure in Hindi films, it was the wise decision to make?

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: There’s a fairly detailed discussion in the book on this, with particular reference to Uttam Kumar’s experience in Bombay films. Soumitra had been offered some major roles in the late 60s and early 70s, but his anxieties at the time were completely valid. Who knows if he would have been just as successful then, and pulled off everything that was demanded of a mainstream lead actor? Honestly, it’s hard to guess. Soumitra had a genuine discomfort with Hindi, and that should not be discounted. His wily Gautam Muni in Sujoy Ghosh’s Ahalya was a revelation though, and there the language really did not matter.

An ageing Soumitra had later told a journalist that he had been foolish and impractical and should have taken up those roles. It would have made a difference to his finances. But this was with hindsight.

Honestly, I did feel a tinge of regret that his talent did not touch a pan-India audience. Definitely, Hindi cinema would have been the richer if he had not shied away from Bombay.

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri: Finally, there’s a moment in every passionate creative work where you say, ‘Well, this is why I actually did it.’ It may not be apparent when you are actually in the process of creating. But now that the book is done, do you have that moment? Can you put a finger on that particular thing that makes writing this book worth the effort?

Sanghamitra Chakraborty: I had started out with the noble idea (laughs) of acquainting a pan-India audience with Soumitra Chatterjee, his life and work. But seriously, I do think every bit matters, and I hope this book finds a few readers in different parts of this vast country who take a shine to Soumitra Chatterjee and start digging up his old films. Maybe there will be one young Bengali reader somewhere who will go out and buy old compiled copies of Ekkhon magazine, or an actor who is inspired by Soumitra’s craft. These are the stuff of dreams for an author, I guess.

But right now I can say that this has also turned out to be a personal journey. I found my own love for my city (Kolkata) and its spirit once again, through an entirely new route. My time with Soumitra Chatterjee taught me how to look at the world, and our city, through his eyes, and that for me is a gift.