Filmmaker Anik Dutta spent years being punished for speaking truth to power in Bengal. He did not live to see his critically acclaimed work Aparajito take its rightful place at Kolkata’s Nandan, the premier state-run film and cultural complex built in 1985 and named in the spirit of Satyajit Ray even though the film is inspired by the real-life story of the making of Ray’s debut masterpiece Pather Panchali. But it is there now. Souvik Ghosh reports
In 1955, Satyajit Ray completed Pather Panchali with financial support from the West Bengal government, then led by Chief Minister Dr. Bidhan Chandra Roy. The state, in that instance, chose to back its artist. Nearly seven decades later, a film about the making of that very masterpiece was quietly, unofficially, and ruthlessly kept out of the state’s own premier cultural institution — because its director had the audacity to speak his mind.
That director was Anik Dutta. And the story of what happened to him — and to his films — is one of the more shameful chapters in the recent cultural history of West Bengal.
Dutta was born on 22 May 1960 in Kolkata, the grandson of industrialist Narendra Chandra Dutta. He studied at St. Xavier’s School and St. Xavier’s College, Kolkata, and spent years in the advertising industry before turning to cinema. When he finally did make his debut, he arrived fully formed. Bhooter Bhabishyat, made on a budget of roughly sixty lakh rupees, earned over three crore rupees in its first hundred days and became one of the biggest Bengali hits of 2012. The film blended supernatural storytelling with sharp political and social satire and is considered by many critics to be a milestone in contemporary Bengali cinema. For a first film, it was a statement of uncommon confidence — funny, layered, politically alert, and technically precise.
But Kolkata’s cultural establishment, increasingly aligned with the Trinamool Congress government that had swept to power in 2011, was watching. A staunch leftist, Dutta was left out of most cultural events and award shows even after delivering such a hit film. Cornered by many, he ran pillar to post to find producers to back his projects. The system that should have celebrated him was instead quietly closing its doors.
The first public rupture came in 2018. At the 24th Kolkata International Film Festival, held at Nandan, Dutta openly criticised Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee for the innumerable giant photographs of her displayed across the Nandan premises. It was a pointed objection — Nandan is named in the spirit of Satyajit Ray, a man of art and restraint. Plastering it with political portraiture before a gathering of global filmmakers was, to Dutta’s mind, a desecration. He said so. Loudly.
The retribution was swift and without official acknowledgement — which is how power usually operates when it punishes artists. In 2019, Dutta released Bhobishyoter Bhoot, a satirical comedy using the ghost format as a vehicle for direct political commentary on contemporary West Bengal. The film was pulled from multiple Kolkata theatres a day after its release.
No official reason was given. Dutta told the press that local police stations had instructed cinema halls to stop screenings, and that police had previously warned producers about the content. The film had cleared the Central Board of Film Certification without a single cut. The makers stated that exhibitors withdrew the film without notice, despite advance payments having been made.
The protest that followed was significant. Veteran actor Soumitra Chatterjee, filmmaker Aparna Sen, Buddhadeb Dasgupta, and many others took to the streets of Kolkata in solidarity. Chatterjee turned to the rest of the industry — those cosying up to the TMC — and asked: “Why is the other part of the industry silent? Why are they being blind, dumb and deaf? This could happen to them too.” It was a question that hung in the air, largely unanswered.
After Bhobishyoter Bhoot, none of Anik Dutta’s films found a place at Nandan. The blackout was total and enduring.
In 2022, Dutta made Aparajito — a film that should, by any artistic and moral logic, have been celebrated at Nandan above all else. It is a loving, meticulous recreation of the making of Pather Panchali, shot in black and white, with Jeetu Kamal playing a character transparently inspired by Satyajit Ray. Rather than use real names, Dutta created fictional counterparts — Aparajit Ray, Bimala Ray, Subir Mitra — mirroring the lives and contributions of those who brought Bengal’s most celebrated film into existence. Saayoni Ghosh played Bimala Ray, modelled on Ray’s wife Bijoya. Debashis Roy essayed the cinematographer. Parambrata Chattopadhyay appeared in a special role. The film won two National Film Awards, including Best Makeup Artist and Best Production Design.
Aparajito was released on 13 May 2022. Nandan did not screen it. The reasons were never officially clarified. The irony was not lost on anyone who was paying attention — the film about the making of Pather Panchali, supported in 1955 by a West Bengal government that believed in its artists, was being denied space in the state’s own cultural complex under a government that had grown accustomed to deciding which artists deserved to be seen.
There was an additional irony, almost comic in its texture. Saayoni Ghosh — who plays Bimala Ray in the film — is a Trinamool Congress MP.
Anik Dutta kept working. His last release, Joto Kando Kolkatatei, hit screens in September 2025. He was working on Aparajito 2 at the time of his death. During the release of his Puja film, he had expressed fears that it might perhaps be his last film. There was something in that remark — not self-pity, but a filmmaker’s clear-eyed reading of the system he was working within.
He died on 27 May 2026, aged 66, after a fall from the rooftop of his Lake Town residence in Kolkata. A suicide note was reportedly recovered. Bengali cinema lost, in one Friday morning, one of its most independent and fearless voices.
A month later, the new BJP-led government in West Bengal did something the previous government had refused to do for three years. Aparajito was screened at Nandan — a three-day run beginning June 5. The hall that had been closed to the film, and to the filmmaker, opened its doors. He was not there to walk through them.
Speaking at the screening, West Bengal minister Swapan Dasgupta recalled his long association with Dutta and was unsparing about what had been done to the film. “Anik and I believed in very different ideologies. Yet, I deeply admired his Bhooter Bhabishyot, which remains a truly remarkable film. I was shocked when I learned that Aparajito had been completely blacked out from Nandan for reasons that were never convincingly explained. However, despite that setback, the film could not be erased from the minds of audiences.” He added: “I sincerely hope such incidents are never repeated. I look forward to an open and civil society where diverse opinions are respected, encouraged and allowed to flourish.”
Veteran actor and BJP MLA Roopa Ganguly, a long-time friend of Dutta’s despite differing political views, was direct. “All of us wanted this film to be screened and appreciated by audiences. Today, the respect and recognition he deserved have been restored.”
Actor-turned-MLA Rudranil Ghosh thanked Chief Minister Suvendu Adhikari for what he called an environment that finally honours distinguished artistic talent. “For years, his contribution to cinema did not receive the respect it deserved under a stagnant system. Today, that recognition has finally been restored.”
It is worth sitting with the full shape of what happened. A filmmaker of genuine distinction — commercially successful, critically respected, nationally awarded — was systematically shut out of his own city’s cultural infrastructure because he objected to photographs on a wall and made a film that embarrassed those in power. His films were pulled from theatres. His work was kept from Nandan. His very first film, made in 2009 and titled Jadubabur Natni, was reportedly never released for unknown political reasons. The harassment began early and it did not stop.
Pather Panchali won at Cannes in 1956. Sixty-six years later, Anik Dutta shot its origin story in black and white, with Ray’s son watching, and called it a labour of love. That is what obsession looks like when it is handled well. That film is now at Nandan. The city that made Ray, and then tried to erase Dutta, is watching it. Better late, one supposes, than never.
But the filmmaker who made it is gone. And the three days at Nandan — however welcome, however necessary — cannot quite outrun the fact that the recognition came too late for the man who deserved it most.
Aparajito means undefeated. Anik Dutta, it turns out, was exactly that. The system ground against him for years. His films endured. So, stubbornly, did his reputation. The walls of Nandan may yet carry the echo of what they refused to show.
IBNS-TWF
