This man is named Huzur Biswambhar Roy. He lives in a crumbling palace on the banks of a wide river, in the midst of an empty plain. It is the late 1920s. He is the last in a line of landlords who flourished in Bengal in the 19th century; the time for landlords has passed, and his money is running out. For years he has had little to do, and only one passion, listening to concerts in his music room.
He has been long jealous of his closest neighbor, the despised moneylender Mahim Ganguly. Mahim is low-caste and vulgar, but hardworking and ambitious. From time to time sounds carried on the air inform him of Mahim's doings: Far-off music, or the distant putt-putt of a generator revealing that he has even brought electricity into his home. He learns that Mahim has held a party. "Was I invited?" Huzur asks his servant. He was, he learns--and Mahim was much distressed that he did not attend. "Do I ever go anywhere?" "No."
After winning worldwide fame with the first two films of his Apu trilogy, which were the first Indian titles to aspire to, and reach, the status of art, Satyajit Ray paused before finishing his trilogy about abject poverty to make this film about genteel poverty. Newly available on video at last in a high-quality print, it is the story of a man who has been compared to King Lear because of his pride, stubbornness, and the way he loses everything that matters.
Almost every scene involves Huzur, played by Chhabi Biswas, an actor who was such a favorite of Ray's that when he died in 1962, Ray said he simply stopped writing important middle-age roles. In "The Music Room" Biswas plays a man so profoundly encased in his existence that few realities can interfere. With no income and a dwindling fortune, he is nevertheless called "lord" by the shifty Mahim, and although his enormous castle is neglected and only two servants remain, he carries on, oblivious.
His life centers on music. More precisely, on giving expensive concerts to show off his music room, or jalsaghar, with its shimmering chandelier, its ornamental carpet, and its portraits of Huzur and his ancestors. He lives to flaunt what remains of his wealth. After the opening sequence on the rooftop, much of the film is told in flashback to a time years earlier, and centers on two concerts given in the room.
The first is a coming-of-age "thread ceremony" in honor of his son Khoka. Only the best musicians will suffice, and Huzur reclines on pillows, flanked by his male neighbors and relatives, as the musicians and a celebrated woman singer perform. A slow camera pans the faces of the listeners, pausing at the vulgar Mahim, who is restless, does not enjoy Indian classical music, and reaches for a drink.
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