On a day Kolkata nearly drowned, Jisshu U Sengupta glided in at an upscale lounge, dapper in his boots and trench coat. Evidently, his interpretation of festive dressing has its own rule book. Just like his career choices. In between prepping for a US tour with his band, juggling work in Bengali, Hindi, and Telugu theatricals and OTT, and prepping for a massive two-part film project this winter, he was at his leisurely best as he sat down with Calcutta Times for an adda over a double-shot espresso.

I’ve always believed my work should speak for itself – not just in the last three or four years, but always. I’ve avoided giving in to the media too much. I’m not a great speaker, and I believe that about myself. Saying “I’m a good actor” doesn’t make me a good actor. Saying “I’m a good drummer” doesn’t make me a good drummer. Some colleagues are very vocal, and that’s needed too. But I’m happy in my own cocoon. I talk to myself, and that gives me peace. I’ve never planned anything in my life.

I’m not a trained actor. My father was a theatre actor, and my mother used to say one actor in the family was enough (laughs). I was rather into cricket and music. By default, I’m here today talking to you primarily as an actor.

Unlike a lot of actors who design their script and character before going to set, I’ve never done that. I read the script. Ritu da (Rituparno Ghosh), who was my mentor, once asked if I put any thought behind what I do. I said no. Wherever I’m shooting, everything from the people around me to the cup of tea in the frame helps me do what I do. He heard me out and then told me, that while my approach wasn’t wrong, it would help if I got into the character’s headspace – understand his backstory, take him back to his childhood, parents, and heartbreaks, and work my way to who he is today.

From that day, that’s exactly what I’ve done. I build the character’s story in my head. I realized if you don’t believe in the character, you can’t act. The best way to act a character is not to act, but to behave. I try to behave.

People think it’s easy to go to Mumbai and get work – that if you meet the right people, it’ll just happen. It doesn’t work that way. Even when I had my Mercedes back home in Kolkata, I used to travel in autos in Mumbai. I did that for years, and it helped.

People assume because you’ve done well in one film industry, people elsewhere will automatically know you. They don’t. When you go and ask for a role, you’re just an actor asking for a role. If you fit the bill, you get it. If you don’t, you don’t.

Posto was my first film with them – a great father-son story built around a true story. Then I did Baba Baby O which was unusual as well. The first Bohurupi was a huge hit, and I had big shoes to fill – Abir’s shoes. He did a brilliant job, I was quite unsure about stepping into this role, but Shibu convinced me. And I also genuinely believe Shiboprosad is a great actor. I’ve told him this to his face and behind his back too. I don’t know why he does not pursue acting more.

Shiboprosad is a brilliant actor. Had he taken it up seriously, most of us would be totally out of work. He is that good.

Honestly, I have no idea (smiles). There was no calculation behind it. I wanted to be at it – if I wanted to achieve something, I had to keep showing up. That’s how I ended up doing Telugu films. I did Manikarnika with Krish, who’s now a great friend. He asked if I wanted to do a Telugu film, and I said I didn’t know the language. He said that didn’t matter. From that day to this, I’ve done around 18-19 Telugu films with Chiranjeevi sir, Ravi Teja, Venkatesh sir, Nani, and Nithiin. Funnily enough, a lot of people think my name is Jishu Sen Gupta and that I’m a Telugu actor. When people around me speak in Telugu, I simply smile and nod my way through it.

That’s the beauty of this industry. Every day is a new day. If I carry the baggage of what I’ve already done, I’m weighing myself down. Honestly, I believe I’ve done nothing in life, and I mean it.

I’d love to win a National Award someday. There have been awards I haven’t even gone to collect, and ones I have picked up. It feels brilliant being recognized as best actor, but that glory is only for that moment. The next day is a new day. That award isn’t going to fetch me three more awards – I still have to work hard for that.

This applies to everything, and it’s something Ritu da taught me. He once asked me whether I wanted to be an actor or a hero. I said I wanted to be an actor. He explained that if you choose to be a hero, your time span is limited, but an actor can act until he dies.

He told me: “When offered a character, imagine taking him out of the story. Does the story still move without him, or does it get stuck? If it can move without him, don’t do it. But if the story doesn’t work without that character, take it – because that one scene will give you another frame.” That’s exactly how I’ve chosen scripts ever since. I never wanted to be a hero. I wanted to be an actor.

It did average business, and it could have been better. I’ve learnt a lot, and so has Saurav (Das). We could have marketed the film differently – it was a father-son story, and we marketed it as a rockstar’s film. The film could also have been a little shorter. We’re going to fix these mistakes the next time we produce a film.

If I get the opportunity, of course I will. This is where I grew up, where I earned my first bread, butter, and chicken tandoori. I’d give my life for it. Think about it – name me one state in India that has mountains, snow, forests, a river, an ocean, red soil, and the world’s biggest mangrove forest, all in one place. We have all of it. The rest of the Indian film industry should come here and explore it.

Yes, there will be competition. Bangla cinemar pashe daran – I think that’s rather silly. Amra jani amra kothay dariye acchi. But we don’t do enough about it. We need to fix that.

I’ve grown up a lot in the last few years. I never really knew who I was, but I’ve at least understood that there are certain things I need to work on, let go of, and face. These last couple of years have given me that time and space to understand myself – to let go of habits and arrive at the person I wish to be.

Absolutely. Every person has shades of grey. At least once a day, you look in the mirror and know where you’ve gone wrong. I have my own justifications, but I know exactly where I’ve been wrong, and where I’ve been right. People are quick to judge, but no one has stepped into my shoes and walked the paths I’ve walked. So first do that, and then judge.

I wanted to play cricket for India; I couldn’t. I wanted to play the drums at Wembley Stadium; I’ll probably never get to. That would be an achievement.

Because that’s how our world has conditioned us – “boys don’t cry.” Amra etai shune eshechi. I don’t subscribe to that, though. I’ve gone to a psychiatrist. I’ve taken therapy. It’s helped me a lot. We only really talk about what women go through with mental health, which is ok. But men go through instability too, and we just don’t talk about male mental health.

I lost my father when I was 21. I started working at 16, earning at 17, and by 19 I was taking on responsibility for my family – no one really talks about that. It’s still difficult, taking care of so many people. Carrying those responsibilities, a man goes through a lot – EMIs, due dates, and people who judge you without paying your bills. And I have my desires too.

I’ve failed so many times, and I’ve learnt from every failure. Men cry. I cry. On my bad days, I miss my daughters and I cry. That’s okay. Why should I hide that just because I’m a man? I don’t buy that anymore. This is who I am.

We see you on screen, the glamorous side of you, but your inner journey isn’t something we usually pause to think about.

Honestly, I don’t want anyone thinking too much about it, and I don’t want suggestions from anyone either. Respect is the only thing I actually work for. In fact, the only thing all men want is just a bit of respect, and we’ll do anything.

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The opening scene of Anirban Bhattacharya’s 2021 streaming series, Mandaar, sears itself in the viewer’s mind. A drone shot tracks a dirt road leading up to a milestone identifying the location — Geilpur, a coastal fishing town in West Bengal. The next shot shows a fish flopping on the beach while a figure in the background seems to mimic the fish’s contortions, heralding a visually striking adaptation of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. It also sets the stage for a depiction of contemporary thuggery and violence in non-bhadralok Bengal, outside the bubble of Kolkata.

Kaushik Ganguly’s 2019 film Nagarkirtan (Town Song) delves into the complex and complicated relationship that exists between gender and class. Exploring a transgender person’s way of navigating a world that is neither urban nor urbane, Riddhi Sen as the protagonist puts up a sterling, nuanced performance that is brilliant in its subtlety. Debaloy Bhattacharya’s 2024 film Shri Swapankumarer Badami Hyenar Kobole (Sri Swapan Kumar in the Grasp Of The Brown Hyena) is a biting satire that not only upturns the ludicrousness of the Bengali action film genre, but is also a homage-cum-ironic take of the grand pulp-fiction legacy of the bestselling Bengali writer Swapankumar aka Samarendranath Pandey.

Bengali cinema, written off for the last 30-odd years as being in terminal decline since the heyday of the trinity of Satyajit Ray-Ritwik Ghatak-Mrinal Sen, seems to be rearing its intelligent, sharp head to be taken note of. It is doing so at a time when cinema-goers have thinned out, preferring the comfort and non-hassle of the remote control at home. Films such as Nandita Roy and Shibo Prosad Mukherjee’s 2024 heist movie Bohurupi (Chameleon) and Soojit Rino Dutta’s 2024 action thriller Khadaan have been blockbusters, the latter becoming the fastest Bengali film to cross the Rs 5 crore mark in five days.

Quality Bengali films, in a minority even in their heyday in the 1960s and ’70s, punched above their weight. But even that critical mass was drowned out by terribly produced, formulaic films that producers put their money in for quick box office returns. With the latter drying out—because of cinemas in money-strapped Bengal closing down as well as Hindi films upping their production quality and popularity among the ticket-buying masses—Bengali cinema’s reputation died a slow, rear-stall death.

But with OTT, the splutter of intelligent popular films—like the 2012 Bhooter Bhobishyot (Future Of The Past, or Future Of The Ghost), a trenchant comedy that showcases Kolkata living off its past and gives it a rip-roarious shake—is once again attaining a critical mass. It may not yet be discernible outside the Bengaliphonic sphere, but within the Bengali cinema-watching and -streaming audience, people are sitting up.

The return of good Bengali movies is despite the trying cinema ecosystem, not because it has had a change of direction. Apart from Srijit Mukherji— the reigning name in middle-brow Bengali cinema, director of crossover Hindi films like the 2017 Vidya Balan-starring Begum Jaan (a remake of his Bengali film Rajkahini) and co-director with Rohan Sippy of the 2024 TV series Shekhar Home, a desi take on Sherlock Holmes, starring Kay Kay Menon— Bengali cinema still languishes in the “glorious past ” for non-Bengali movie followers.

Director-actor Anirban Bhattacharya explains this paucity: “Bengali audiences are not committed to their own language. It is a result of an intellectual downfall in Bengal. It is a socio-political tragedy in every stream of Bengal: theatre, film, poetry, painting and music,” he says, adding, “I am not blaming the audience…. The crisis is more in our own selves.”

Laments Bhattacharya: “If you ask a person in Bengal about her favourite actor, she will name Shah Rukh Khan or Ranbir Kapoor first and then a Bengali actor like, say, Parambrata Chattopadhyay and Abir Chatterjee. This is not the case in the South. There, a person will name Fahadh Faasil or Allu Arjun first and then a Hindi actor.”

Southern films of the kind Bhattacharya cites, especially Malayalam and Tamil, have found a huge audience who do not speak or read these languages. That’s because of the ‘sincerity’ and ‘authenticity’ in their vision and storytelling. Bengali cinema is gaining ground on this front. The story is once again becoming important.

The question is when there will be enough of this kind of cinema for the industry to make a reputational change, especially outside the Bengalisphere.

Shiboprosad Mukherjee, director of critically acclaimed films like the 2013 thriller Alik Shukh (Unreal Happiness) and 2019 Kontho (Voice), says, “A film has to be rooted in its language and culture. That is why Marathi films such as Sairat and Natsamrat have worked beyond Maharashtra,” adding, “Today we need to make Bengali films with its culture intact.”

Films, like Indranil Roychowdhury’s 2013 Phoring (Dragonfly) on the relationship between a new schoolteacher and a boy in a town in North Bengal where the main industry has shut down, do mirror contemporary culture and politics. Aniket Chattopadhyay’s 2019 movie Shankar Mudi (Shankar the Grocer) is a searing tale of how big retail and online shopping affect a kirana owner. More and more films are depicting “reality” and, importantly, telling stories in an intricate, engaging fashion bearing quality production.

Producers are certainly looking for quality writers. Himanshu Dhanuka, MD, Eskay Movies, paints a pessimistic picture: “After the death of director Rituparno Ghosh, there has been a void. There is a talent problem. There are no ground breaking stories. The last hero introduced in Bengali was probably a decade ago.”

Despite Dhanuka’s woes, Bengali streaming platform Hoichoi throws up a growing number of films and shows, including Mandaar and the other aforementioned films.

One can argue that this uptick is happening after the malaise was identified and called out. As Anirban Bhattacharya points out, “The Malayalam film industry is experimenting with films such as Bramayugam and Manjummel Boys. But in Bengal, there is no willingness or zeal to experiment with new themes.”

He adds, “There are filmmakers in Bengal who want to do everything with a reference point. They are using references from Mumbai or South Indian films and making movies. Bengali cinema has always been about ideas. If you want to explore an idea, you don’t need a big budget for it. It is impossible to convince people that small ideas still can be as penetrating as big films."

Cultural, creative and financial challenges exist. Lack of interest by streaming platforms like Netflix and Amazon Prime Video in Bengali films—perhaps due to the fact that Hoichoi monopolizes the content—may be hobbling the industry.

Mahendra Soni, cofounder, SVF Entertainment, a leading production house and distributor in Kolkata, says, “If I know about the existence of a film, then probably I will watch it. Some great films are being made every year in Bengal. They are not the talking points because there is no discovery of these films on international streaming platforms.”

Soni is also cofounder of Hoichoi. “Today, a large number of southern films are mostly discovered through these international streaming platforms. But these platforms are not picking Bengali films because they have not built this category on their platforms thoroughly.”

The limited reach of Bengali films is a chicken-and-egg conundrum: people are not betting on good Bengali films because they don’t know of their existence, while there is a shortage of good Bengali content because nobody is putting their money there.

Director Arin Paul, who made the 2008 comedy 10:10, points out, “In the South, a film is simultaneously released in more than two states apart from the home state. So, there are multiple markets to make good money. In Bengal, filmmakers are largely dependent on the state itself for revenues. Even the budget of promoting Bengali films is very small.”

More than 80% of Bengali films are made within a budget of Rs 2 crore. Only films which boast big names can have budgets of Rs 5-7 crore. But the additional cost of promotion—between Rs 75 lakh and Rs 1.5 crore—is pretty much that of making the film. As a result, films are hardly marketed after their release and no one outside West Bengal, even among the Bengali diaspora, gets to know about them. This is something that OTT platforms like Hoichoi have started to rectify, especially since West Bengal has only 24 multiplexes when Maharashtra has 200.

West Bengal contributes only 7-8% of the total box office of Indian films.

Bengali film watchers are coming out of the moan-zone of ‘Oh, for the good old days’ as they are treated to better-made, bettertold, better-shown movies and shows.

Your turn, rest of the world.

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Superstar Jisshu Sengupta feels that collaboration is the need of the hour

In the same week that Aditya Vikram Sengupta’s third movie, Once Upon A Time In Calcutta, was selected in the Orizzonti (Horizons) section of the 78th Venice International Film Festival, journalist Rituparna Sengupta tweeted, “Are good Bengali films not being made or are they not being acquired by OTT platforms? Because I see the same things on Netflix and Prime for months and months.” 

Despite Srijit Mukherji’s 2020 film Gumnaami earning a National Award recently and Sengupta wooing the international fans with his cinema, it’s fair to say that Bengali cinema hasn’t managed to attract the attention of the OTT audience in India to the degree that Malyalam, Tamil and Telugu movies have.

We pick Aditya Vikram Sengupta’s brain for what the reason could be—creative bankruptcy or an inability to connect with the masses? He ponders a bit before answering. “Are we making good enough cinema? Whether it’s a Malayalam or Telugu film, at the end of the day, the film speaks for itself. If my film is at Venice, it’s because the film fared well. Here’s my analogy — an IIT degree can give us a head start but after that, it boils down to the person [to succeed professionally]. There are no frills needed for a film to work, other than that it has to be a good film.”

He is speaking from experience. Sengupta’s debut film, Labour Of Love, won the FEDEORA award for the best debut at the Festival’s Venice Days section in 2014 and was subsequently acquired by Amazon Prime Video. “Film distribution was the easiest part of my job. Inox gave us a big release and it ran full house for eight weeks. Abhay Deol distributed the film and eventually it went to Prime. The next film, Jonaki, got picked up by Netflix. It got picked up two years after its release, and they said they chose it because they really liked it.”

That said, Sengupta has consciously followed a different monetary model for his films, which doesn’t involve working with traditional production houses of the industry. “My language of work is Bengali but I don’t work in the Bengali film industry. Shooting in Calcutta comes with its challenges. I have realised filmmaking is not just about the money but collaborating with someone who shares your creative vision. Say, SVF [Shree Venkatesh Films] wants to give the money, but what they wish to do with a film is very different from the process I would like to follow.”

A fair chunk of films in the Bengali industry are helmed by SVF, one of the industry’s biggest producers and distributors, who also control and maintain Hoichoi, an exclusive app for Bengali content, that has both originals and acquisitions. This, say some, has created the classic market monopoly problem.

But Shiboprosad Mukherjee, a well-known filmmaker from Bengal, says that this is not quite the hindrance. “SVF are solid producers, distributors, have their own theatrical chain and OTT platform, so, a large number of films made go straight to their platform. In Bengali films, satellite and digital rights are bought in combination. That is the industry model. We, as producers, will sell to whoever gives us the best deal. I don’t feel our content lacks the sting to make it big. The Malayalam industry is buying rights to my films, too. My film Kantho is being remade in Malayalam. Viacom has bought my films Belasheshe and Posto, which is only possible because the films have fared well commercially and have piqued audience interest. Most of my films are on Hotstar and the rest are on Hoichoi. What we probably suffer from is a slack attitude when it comes to wider publicity. None of us are actively seeking the Hindi film audience or fame. The more regional you are, the more global you will be.”

Thankfully, Anindo Banerjee, head of originals at Hoichoi, has a less lofty approach to the challenge. He says that what is viewed as market monopoly is a culturally symbiotic equation. “SVF has been in the business for 25 years and culturally, cinema in Bengal is synonymous with SVF. As far as our app is concerned, it is created for the diaspora and enjoys great reach, both locally and internationally. But we are now, trying to reach the non-Bengali diaspora, and have elaborate plans to achieve this.”

Srijit Mukherji, whose Gumnaami has won him two National Awards, looks at it slightly differently. “If we give content to OTT players, they will market it well. But we, as filmmakers, need to deliver genre-bending, clutter-breaking movies which can capture audience attention across 170 countries. Malayalam films are going through a renaissance where a lot of great filmmakers are making one brilliant film after the other. That’s not happening in Bengali cinema for sure. The Malayalam new wave has people addicted right now. Actors like Fahadh Faasil, Parvathy are creating a following which is hard to replicate,” he says.

Mukherji, fresh after wrapping up Netflix anthology Ray, is now helming Shabaash Mithu, a biopic on star woman cricketer Mithali Raj, starring Taapsee Pannu. “Bengali films are doing well in festivals, and on the awards circuit. But it’s true that OTT platforms don’t acquire a lot of Bengali films. Both Gumnaami and Vinci Da did brilliantly on Amazon Prime. In fact, after the Amazon release of Vinci Da, I was able to sell the rights in Tamil, Telugu, Hindi and Malayalam. But overall, there are lesser Bengali movies on OTT platforms, and perhaps it has to do with the price they offer, which is prohibitive. Hoichoi mops up all Bengali releases and its reach is great in the diaspora, but not enough outside it. Gumnaami’s success is also an aberration. I think the OTT players are waiting for us to prove our universal appeal, before investing in the Bengali film market.”

While Netflix India and Amazon Prime Video declined to comment officially, a member from the acquisition team of the latter told mid-day, “The platform doesn’t have a strong presence in Bengali. In terms of demography, Bengal is not a strong point for the platform. We are still making plans to scale up.” 

Another official at Hotstar, however, says that over the last year they have seen a marked rise in viewing of Bengali films on the platform. “We have good pre-existing relations with well-known makers from the region. We will be investing more actively in Bengali content over the days to come. Over and above that, the television serials in Bengali have been widely viewed by people from the diaspora over the last few months since lockdown. Internet viewing has gathered strength.”

Bengali superstar Jisshu Sengupta, who starred in Shakuntala Devi, Thalaivi, and Antim, and acts across Bengali, Hindi and Telugu films, says it’s a misconception that people don’t watch Bengali cinema. “Right now, the Bengali film market is still healing from the pandemic. The last two years have hit us hard and market players like Amazon, Netflix and Hotstar are not coming up with enough content for this language. I think a lack of interest is creating a lack of output. We, as artistes, need to push our boundaries, which artistes like Paoli Dam, Swastika Mukherjee, Parambrata Chattopadhyay and I are trying to do. But wanting to watch Bengali content is eventually the audience’s call.”

On June 29, the District Judge, Alipore Court passed an order restricting Maddock Films and others from releasing their film, Hindi Medium “on any other format or electronic format including CDs, DVDs, television, internet till July 28“. Ever since the film's trailer released, it was speculated that its theme is similar to a Bengali film, titled Ramdhanu (2014). The latter's directors, Nandita Roy and Shiboprosad Mukherjee, who were caught up with the release of their movie, Posto around the same time as Hindi Medium, moved court in the last week of June seeking an injunction on the Irrfan-Saba Qamar starrer.

Ramdhanu was about complex emotions that parents go through while trying to get their child admitted to a reputed school. After the child fails the admission test, parents go through training in language and behaviour to aid the admission process. Hindi Medium, a satire on the education system, apparently had similarities with Ramdhanu.

Atanu Raychaudhuri, the presenter of Ramdhanu and a lawyer himself, who moved court along with Debnath Ghosh on behalf of the director duo's production house, says, “A substantial portion of Ramdhanu has been copied by Hindi Medium. After we noticed them, we were left with no option but to move court. And the court has passed an ex-parte interim order.“

Shiboprosad says, “We watched Hindi Medium at least a month after it was released. The court order is a victory for original content.“ Nandita added that plagiarism has to be fought at any cost. “Unlawful copies do a lot of damage to regional film industries. It's time we put an end to such malpractices,“ she added.

Hindi Medium's director, Saket Chaudhary maintains, “I've no clue about the injunction. If anything like that happens, the producers will deal with it. However, my only question to the Ramdhanu team is, why now? Hindi Medium has been appreciated all over. Why did they keep mum when the trailer was launched? I have seen Ramdhanu in bits and pieces. I didn't find any similarities, except for two things - school and admission. There's nothing remotely common between the two films. And I stand by my statement.“

Producer Dinesh Vijan says, “I haven't seen the Bengali film and with due respect to someone else's work, until now I hadn't even heard about it. So going by the plot and summary, which I have just read, I'm confident of the originality of our film. I am more than happy to go through legal channels to prove this.“