A typically low-key masterpiece from Satyajit Ray. The film explores the changing role of women in Indian society post-independence, but also shows the lingering influence of British imperialist rule and the generational conflicts within families.
Ray is an expert at dealing with profound themes with a lightness of touch. 'Mahanagar' (which means "Big City") is like the best Shakespearean comedies: the characters are beautifully drawn and are put through serious challenges, but the final emphasis is on re-birth and positive ways forward.
We are slowly drawn into the lives of the family portrayed, and there is an effortless grace about the relaxed performances from the cast, with Madhabi Mukherjee on spellbinding form as the working wife.
As stated by another reviewer, this film is (sadly) still very relevant today.
Set in Calcutta in the 1950's this brilliant film is as relevant now as it was in '63 when it was made.
I’d seen enough Satyajit Ray to know I wasn’t walking into an ordinary domestic drama. Even so, I didn’t expect The Big City to sneak up on me quite like this.
The plot sounds almost aggressively ordinary: a woman gets a job, the household budget shifts, and one bruised male ego starts taking up more space than the furniture. Somehow Ray builds genuine suspense out of a monthly pay packet, which is a strange thing for any film to pull off. That little kitchen becomes one of cinema’s great pressure cookers, and nobody even has to raise their voice.
I kept thinking about my own family’s small domestic stand-offs while watching it. Madhabi Mukherjee never reaches for a big scene, yet she becomes impossible to look away from. Watching Subrata’s confidence curdle into resentment feels painfully recognisable without ever turning him into a monster.
The ending offers no miracle, just the possibility of tomorrow. Somehow that’s enough. I can’t think of many films that say so much with such ordinary lives.