The neo-classical courtyard of Khelat Ghosh’s mansion on Pathuriaghata Street, one of the last citadels of North Calcutta ‘gentoos’, has been turned into a battleground. Joyraj Bhattacharjee has reloaded Sukumar Ray’s Lakshmaner Shaktishel for the third time in 18 years, this time under the banner of Titumir Collective.
This political satire, inspired by Lanka-kanda of the Ramayana, was originally composed during the Swadeshi movement days and, since then, has traditionally been enjoyed as a juvenile comedy. But Ray packs more punches in Lakshmaner Shaktishel than just tickling the funny bone. In this 3.0 version, Bhattacharjee refashions Ray’s satirical intent so that it resonates with contemporary geopolitics.
Apart from inserting a song or two, like “Sherbat-e bish nai/ Sandeshkhali te sandesh nai” (roughly translated as “No poison in this glass of beverage/ While Sandeshkhali is bereft of sandesh”), that a live jazz band performs, waitresses, dressed up as Playboy bunnies, serve lassi in earthen pots to the audience just before the show starts. Keeping Ray’s lines unchanged, Bhattacharjee flirts mostly with the costumes, coating the mythical characters with a dash of popular culture. Thus, Jambuban (Riddhibesh Bhattacharya) wears Gabbar Singh’s garb and behaves as if he is in Sholay’s Ramgarh. Lakshman (Sounak Kundu) — a metrosexual man who pumps weights before the show starts — turns into a showstopper in a Superman outfit. Ravana (Arka Das, who also plays the drums) becomes a WWF wrestler who knocks Lakshman out with a jab of his microphone and invites the audience to pose for photographs with him and the cheerleaders with pompoms in hand. Yama comes in his Yami avatar as Srabanti Bhattacharya steals the scene towards the end.
Although not strictly a site-specific theatre, Bhattacharjee instals a bamboo pole in the middle of the courtyard and hapless monkeys, dressed in RSS uniform, try to climb the pole without success. Another bamboo structure works as a watch tower, balancing the imposing thakurdalan vertically. I only wonder what the painters with canvases were doing in this otherwise brilliant adaptation of a cult comedy.
