Documenting Folk Performances: Prantik Basu’s Bela
Prantik Basu’s documentary Bela focuses on the performances of a troupe of Chhau dancers, called the Manbhum Sramjibi Chhau Nritya Dal. This semi-classical dance form has its origins in the Eastern Indian regions of West Bengal, Jharkhand and Odisha. Condensing two years of closely-observed, immersive filming into the constructed filmic narrative-time of two days; Basu’s documentary reflects on the nature of temporal change on the larger, structural shifts brought about in a community that lives in Purulia, which has always occupied an ambiguous border-zone between West Bengal and Jharkhand. Bela—which also implies time in Bengali, rooted to the structure of a day—gets its name from the village where the troupe lives, consisting of Kurmis and Mahatos.
Drawing from tribal, martial and folk traditions, the Chhau dance employs masculine codes of vigour, athleticism and the risk of danger. Influenced by classical narratives of the past, the identity of the human performers is inflected by the agency of gods, spirits and animals, represented through colourful masks. It reflects a mode of performative reading of the Indian classical epics by those communities which have traditionally found themselves marginalised in these narratives, if not completely written out of them.
Made by artists from the Sutradhar community in Purulia, the masks distinguish the local form of Chhau dance there from the Odisha variant.
The masks are made from soft paper, clay, diluted glue, cloth, mud and fine ash powder. They are used to evoke the presence of gods or mythological characters like Rama, Ravana, Durga or the Asuras.
Basu’s film illuminates the context of the everyday economy of life and labour that frames the possibility of these performances. The troupe is an all-male ensemble, but women are integral to the life of the community as they perform some of the most rigorous jobs—from carrying wood and sticks, threshing grain or painting the courtyards for rituals. Their labour forms an almost ritualistic complement to the men’s performance routines, as the filmmaker shows. If the Chhau troupe relies on displays of vigour and the threat of violence, the women’s routines also suggest an equal participation in those modes of cultural living, even if they are performed in a different domain—the space of the everyday. Speaking to Scroll.in, Basu said,
“The argument of Chhau dance being strictly masculine for its physical rigour failed to hold true after a point, as the women were involved in equally strenuous activities, if not more. Also, the fact that Chhau dance is so widely celebrated, while the temporary paintings on the floor by the women are only to be washed away by the following rain spoke volumes about the general positioning of gender in our society at large.”
Provoked by industrial landscapes appearing fleetingly—but monstrously—in the sylvan horizons of the countryside, the aspect of change looms large over the narrative of the film. There is also the question of state initiatives/sponsorships that ensure the survival or death of these performances through aid and competitive festivals. The reliance on state sponsorship and the lack of mainstream, cultural influence of the art form inevitably points towards a future of obsolescence. There are no spoken words or voice-overs to initiate an audience into the meaning of the images, but Basu’s imposition of a clear structure allows the narrative to imitate the rhythms of a typical day in the village of Bela, transporting the viewer into its domain as non-intrusively as possible.
Bela was screened at the Visions du Réel Programme and the International Film Festival Rotterdam, earlier this year.
All images from Bela by Prantik Basu. 2021. Images courtesy of the artist.
