Jalsaghar [The Music Room] (1958)

(On Cable TV, January 2022) A constant theme in my reviews of Satyajit Ray’s filmography is that I have a hard time connecting to his movies. When I do (as in The Big City), I’m more surprised than anything else. The rest of the time, I’m left more admiring his writing-directing skills than actually enjoying the result. The Music Room feels like typical Ray to me—I like a lot of bits and pieces, I respect how it’s pulled together but I’m left more bored than anything else. There is certainly a kernel of a good idea in its central character—a local lord whose fortune and glory days are not just gone, but whose appetite for culture is dilapidating his wealth even faster. Living in palatial surroundings falling apart, he spares no expenses on his passion: live music. What I anticipated being an issue with The Music Room, its musical numbers, instead ended up being one of its biggest strengths: a cinematic capture of classic Indian music, meaning something western viewers such as myself have very little exposure to. I wasn’t enthusiastic about the first number, but by the last one I was regarding them as highlights. The rest of The Music Room is typical Ray: slow-paced, steeped in Indian culture, not particularly interested in happily-ever-after (or even plotting, for that matter) and with black-and-white cinematography that only hints at the rich colours of its surroundings. None of that is a slam against what he does best—but it’s not necessarily something I care about. But now, at least, I’ve added one more Ray film to my database and can see what the fuss is about.