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Puja Vibes and a Bandit Queen: My Take on Devi Chowdhurani Starcast: Prosenjit Chatterjee, Srabanti Chatterjee, Sabyasachi Chakraborty, Arju...
Puja Vibes and a Bandit Queen: My Take on Devi Chowdhurani
Starcast: Prosenjit Chatterjee, Srabanti Chatterjee, Sabyasachi Chakraborty, Arjun Chakraborty, Bibriti Chatterjee, Kinjal Nanda, Darshana Banik , Debjani and Alex O'Neil
Direction: Subhrajit Mitra
Music: Pandit Bickram Ghosh
Man, Puja 2025 hit different this year. Amid the usual chaos of pandal-hopping,
adda sessions with mishti overload, and that one uncle who's always arguing
about politics, I squeezed in a theater trip for Devi Chowdhurani. Directed
by Subhrajit Mitra, this one's a big-screen swing at Bankim Chandra
Chattopadhyay's 1884 novel – you know, the one about a fierce woman turning
bandit queen in 18th-century Bengal? Released bang on September 26, right in
the thick of the festivities, it felt like the perfect mix of history lesson
and high-octane drama . Clocking in at about two hours and change, it's got
that epic feel without dragging you into a nap. They say – one of the priciest
Bengali flicks ever – and honestly, you can kinda tell where the money went (and
where it didn't).
Let's talk story without spoiling the fun. It's all about Prafulla (Srabanti
Chatterjee), this innocent young thing who's basically society’s punching bag
at first – think arranged marriage gone wrong, family drama on steroids, and
the whole colonial-era mess of zamindars squeezing the poor dry. Then boom, she
crosses paths with the enigmatic Bhavani Pathak (Prosenjit Chatterjee), this
grizzled mentor figure who's equal parts philosopher and rebel leader. What
follows is her glow-up into Devi Chowdhurani, the river-roaming bandit who robs
the rich, feeds the starving, and flips the bird to British bootlickers. Mitra
keeps it close to the chronicles – way more than that 1974 Suchitra Sen version
– but tweaks a few bits for the screen, like punching up the action and dialing
back some of the novel's slower philosophical rants. It's got love, betrayal,
sisterhood (shoutout to that bond with her sorta-rival-turned-ally, played by
Darshana Banik), and enough rebellion to make you fist-pump in your seat. Set
against misty rivers, dense forests, and crumbling havelis, it paints Bengal's
turbulent past with grit, not gloss – no shiny CGI overload, just raw, muddy
reality.
Performances!! Where do I even start? Srabanti owns this thing. I've seen her
in lighter fare, but here she's channeling that quiet fire Bankim wrote about –
starting all wide-eyed and hesitant, then morphing into this sword-wielding
storm. Her emotional scenes hit hard, especially the ones where she's wrestling
with her conscience or staring down oppressors. Action-wise, she's a bit stiff
but by the end, she's got that queen energy locked in. It's career-best stuff,
no cap – you forget it's Srabanti and just see Devi. Prosenjit's a walking
masterclass. As Bhavani, he's got this restrained intensity – not the
over-the-top hero, but a guy who's seen too much, guiding her with tough
affection. He's the feminist heart of the film, propping up the women without
stealing the spotlight. It's subtle, like he's whispering "you got this"
through every scene. Sabyasachi Chakrabarty slinks in as the slimy zamindar
Haraballav Ray – pure villain gold. Bibriti Chatterjee and Arjun Chakrabarty
bring the sparks in the sidekick roles; their fight duos are electric, with
Bibriti flipping through the air like she's done this forever. Darshana's Sagar
is a quiet standout – vulnerable yet steely, and that chemistry with Kinjal?
Supwr cute. Even the debuts, like Dr. Priyadarshini as Diba, add fresh layers
without overdoing it. The ensemble's tight; no one's phoning it in.
Technically, this is Bengali cinema flexing. Anirban Chatterjee's camera work
is straight fire – those sweeping shots of the Teesta River at dawn? You feel
the humidity, hear the boat creaks. Production design nails the era: threadbare
saris that look lived-in, forts that scream decay, no fake sparkle. Bickram
Ghosh's rousing tabla thumps for battles, haunting flutes for the heartbreak –
it swells just right, and that Nazrulgeeti ? Goosebumps, every time. Action
choreo by Pradyumna Kumar Swain leans practical – real stunts, no green-screen
cheese – which grounds it all. But here's the rub: budget bites back in spots.
Some VFX look cheap. Early fights feel clunky, and the second half sags a tad
with drawn-out dialogues that could've used a snip. Pacing dips when it's heavy
on exposition, making you check your phone once or twice. And yeah, a few lines
land awkward in Bengali – like, poetic on paper, but sounds stiff on screen.
Devi Chowdhurani isn't flawless, but damn if it doesn't feel like a win for
Tollywood. In a long Puja lineup, this stands tall – reviving a forgotten
feminist icon with heart and hustle. It's got that rare mix: makes you think
about power, patriarchy, and plunder while keeping you glued with sword clashes
and slow-burn twists. Subhrajit Mitra's vision shines through – respectful to
Bankim but bold enough to make it pop for 2025 eyes. Go watch it if you're into
period dramas. I'd rate it a solid 3.5/5 – visually stunning, emotionally raw,
just needed a tighter edit . It has left me craving for more stories like
these: women rewriting history. Puja's over, but Devi's legend? Timeless.
By Ayushmaan Mitra
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