Arghakamal Mitra

Arghakamal Mitra, a name you’ll hear a lot if you hang around Bengali cinema buffs for even a couple of minutes, has carved out a reputation for himself with films that don’t just pass by—they stick with you. Let’s start with Teenkahon (2014). It’s not your run-of-the-mill anthology; it’s a cinematic triptych, each story shining a not-so-gentle light on the shifting moral compass of Bengal over a century. You watch the landscape change, people change, but somehow the undercurrent of longing and loss never leaves. The storytelling isn’t afraid to get a little dark or uncomfortable, which, honestly, is refreshing. Jump back a bit and there’s Aha! (2007)—a film that tiptoes between nostalgia and reality, family secrets and the ache of growing old. Mitra’s editing here is like a silent character, always lurking, pushing the narrative forward in little unpredictable bursts. You’re left thinking about the choices people make and the things they leave unsaid. Then there’s Ek Mutho Chabi (2005), a collection of six short films, each with its own flavor. Mitra had his hands in the editing pot here too, interweaving very different stories into something that feels cohesive without being forced. The guy’s got a knack for pacing and mood, making every frame count, even when nothing much is “happening.” You don’t get loud drama or melodrama; instead, the tension creeps in quietly, and before you know it, you’re invested. Basically, Mitra knows how to get under your skin and stay there.