Satyajit Ray's Charulata is a tragedy in three parts. That isn't to say that it's divided into three acts or scenes, but rather that it follows three different interconnected storylines that all inevitably succumb to bitter tragedy. Charu is a lonely housewife who wiles away her days in seclusion reading, dreaming, and spying on her neighbors. Bhupati, her husband, is so blinded by optimism concerning politics and his newspaper that he is oblivious to being robbed blind by his brother and to the fact that Charu has fallen madly in love with his cousin Amal. And Amal? An unmotivated slacker fresh from university, he realizes that he must leave their house and abandon any hope for happiness just when he finds purpose in life in both his writing and in his affections towards Charu. There is much to love about Charulata: its gentle yet devastating examination of its characters' emotions, a wonderful song sequence a little past the one hour mark that is unlike almost anything I have ever seen in the cinema of Satyajit Ray, the wonderful swing set scene where Charu first discovers her love for Amal, and the virtuosity of Subrata Mitra's cinematography.
8/10
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