There is a significant amount of films made from the perspective of non-resident Indians and their love for the mother-land. Be it a result of patriotic affiliation or simply a case of treasured memories, similar narratives have been churned out numerous times. As a result, nostalgia has almost become a cliché in itself due to the bourgeois fetishization of memories. “Maacher Jhol” falls in the same vein, yet it is the itched-out performance by Ritwick Chakraborty, which makes one fall for the central character's plea for sympathy.
Through the film, we get to know about Dev D aka Devdatto (Ritwick Chakraborty) who is a chef in a French restaurant. He comes off as a fairly authoritative figure around the cooks, who seem to have genuine affection towards food than the authority itself. The same person comes home to be greeted with a cupcake made by his girlfriend – Simone, which he enjoys just as dearly. It is well-established within a few scenes how his whole life revolves around food in one way or the other. We also sense a good-natured soul within him, who is just afraid of committing to anything besides his work. Something stops him from getting into any relation with Simone, beyond what they have. That is when we are introduced to the conflict that he cautiously keeps under the surface.
Having been living in France for over thirteen years, Dev has well-established himself as a chef. However, he has made comfort with living away from any of the familial bonds. If not for a call about his mother being admitted to a hospital, he would not have thought to head back home either. Nevertheless, that incident takes him back to his motherland – West Bengal (an Indian state). Through that, the writer-director gives us a peek into Dev's internal conflict, into his past, what motivated him to lead this career, besides the present-day perception of him from the eyes of others. For much of its duration, the film revolves around Dev trying to find just the right ingredients to make the quintessential Bengali delicacy called Maacher Jhol (Fish Curry) for his ailing mother. During this trip, he also needs to come in terms with his wife Sheela and try to make amends for the lost time.
The themes presented in the film are not surprising for anyone who is aware of the interpersonal dynamics between Indian parents and children. A child wanting to lead their life for something that they believe in and the parent's constant disapproval if that does not fit in their criteria of what is ideal; it is a formula that is done to death. “Maacher Jhol” does not break any new grounds in that respect either and stays within the generic tropes of such a situation. Dev is another child whose decision is not approved by his parent, which in this case is his father. Thus, the inevitable clichés are a part of the film.
Yet, Ritwick Chakraborty's performance makes the whole charade believable. Even while Pratim D. Gupta's story stumbles upon clichés or relies on sentimentality, it is the strong central performance that keeps one invested in the emotional core. For a balding, middle-aged guy, Dev might have looked like a sentimental womanizer. However, Ritwick brings an inborn charm and a charismatic quality required for the role of Dev. He effortlessly catches the detailed mannerisms of an introverted chef, who lives under the baggage of the unfulfilled acts from the past.
Besides that, what works really well for “Maacher Jhol” is its tonal consistency. It is fair to say for a film revolving around food, it gets every ingredient just enough to give the viewers a sensory experience. Even when the film transitions from the somber approach to the beauty-shots (the appealing shots that do not necessarily take the narrative forward) of what the chef makes, not even a single moment sticks out like a sore thumb.
Subhankar Bhar's cinematography is enticing enough to catch the eye and as aforementioned, editing (done by Subhajita Singha) finds a convincing balance between the sizzling and mundane shots; just like the nature of the city, it takes place in. The regional delicacies always work as a bridge to a particular culture due to which the title seems even more appropriate, which as mentioned before, is what a fish curry is called in the Bengali language.
“Maacher Jhol”, as a result of much of this, comes off as a genuinely heart-warming film. It is worth watching for its compassionate approach even while it slides into clichés.
