As the golden rays of the Northern Hemisphere start taking an early leave, the migratory birds start preparing for the long haul, nights are as arduous as recurring loneliness, Aritra Sen’s Ghore Pherar Gaan’s protagonist Tora flies down from another part of the planet with tired wings, a bag zipped carefully full of dreams and ordeals, her heart which has become as stark as shredded leaves, yet, the sight of the blue sky allures her to take a flight, but she is caged. Caged in her new family after her marriage or caged within herself ? The search begins.

Roadshow Films has always tried to tell stories which connect with the world beyond the four walls. Ghore Pherar Gaan also achieves this in its own way with its strengths and drawbacks. The story revolves around Tora (Ishaa Saha), who leaves a heavy past back in Calcutta and ties the knot with Ribhu (Gourab Chatterjee), a doctor belonging to an esteemed Bengali family in London helmed by Shanta (Reshmi Sen), a councilwoman, who is extremely conscious about her family’s image. Tora and Ribhu undergo a situation where both of them are victims of each other’s individuality. While Tora almost ends up accepting the make-believe world of wax around her, Imran (Parambrata Chattopadhyay), an aspiring musician from Murshidabad, fortuitously connects with Tora through an accident. While battling his demons which Imran has left back in Calcutta, he discovers Tora’s immense talent towards music as both of them embark on a musical journey and they gradually discover themselves. The film does and does not fall into the trap of a stereotypical plot structure. The screenplay written by Soumyasree Ghosh and Aritra Sen unfolds effortlessly in the first half but loses track in several parts of the second half of the film. The mother and son duo’s bonding and the individual crisis of most of the characters remain half-baked and at times the characters and the situations they prompt become overtly black and white. Few scenes were shorter than their desired screen time while few were unduly long, the transitions (both in writing and editing) lacked purpose and fluency, resulting in an uneven rhythm which overall affected the pace of the film at times. But some moments were beautifully carved — Tora’s first shambolic baking mission or her silent musical escape through her earphones at her birthday party, which became polluted by people engaged in a subtle competition of measuring self worths, or the concluding sequence of the film will leave the viewers with a positive impact.

The confluence and conflict of borders were seamlessly woven through certain situations, though a little more reflection and clarity on the ongoing immigrant crisis, xenophobia and racism still raging all over the world would have given the screenplay another layer of depth, which as an audience I yearned to see more because ultimately this story is about achieving independence of every form. But what struck me the most was the silent protest and resistance through music/art, which eventually became the protagonist of the film, something which the makers intended to establish consciously I feel and that gives way to two of the film’s strongest pillars, the music and the performances. The music composed by the inimitable and versatile Prabuddha Banerjee, the virtuoso of the world of notations, will remain with the audience even after the film is over. The way he arranged and composed the fusion, the tonality, the sensibility and the precision becomes a treat to the ears. Each and every actor delivers their best, filling up the inconsistencies and flaws of the writing. Ishaa Saha is brilliant as Tora, she delivers a steady, reliable and mellifluous performance. Parambrata Chattopadhyay has previously played characters synonymous with Imran but that’s where the challenge lies. He steers the direction away from the trap of possible repetitiveness and reaches the finishing line with ease. Gourab Chatterjee beautifully pulls off the grey and generates the desired empathy needed for Ribhu. He skillfully acquires the accent, though a little more attention to the pacing of the sentences would have made it even more convincing. Reshmi Sen etches a memorable Shanta with her grace and elan and makes complete use of her screen time with a power-packed performance. Adding a little more grey in the writing of her character would have justified some of Shanta’s actions. Aritra Sen generates the feeling of inhaling a breath of fresh air during an early morning walk in Green Park or Gorer Math in his big-screen directorial debut, leaving the viewer with more expectations for his upcoming work. The film travels through an uneven road... lots of things could have been done differently perhaps, but what shines the brightest is the honesty, which outshines the flaws and reminds us that at times all we need to see is a simple sunrise with our loved ones and drink a cup of kindness yet for the sake of Auld Lang Syne.