I don't know how even 6.4% of the female voters could have given this movie a 2!!!!! This was Ray's first movie, but his economy of dialog, his synchronization and sympathy with India's rural life is incredible. So little said, yet so much! Apu and Durga following the sweetmeat seller, the scene where they run through a "kash" field....superb, the work of a real artist, a master. The film develops its characters and the atmosphere slowly and resolutely. The narrative builds up to a powerful climax. Ray had an ancient camera while shooting this movie, did it matter? No. His expression and technique was more than sound, although this was a maiden venture.

Some critics found(and still find, I might add) the film to be too slow. Satyajit Ray wrote about the slow pace - "The cinematic material dictated a style to me, a very slow rhythm determined by nature, the landscape, the country. The script had to retain some of the rambling quality of the novel because that in itself contained a clue to the authenticity: life in a poor Bengali village does ramble."

There you are, if you have not watched this movie, you'll probably missed the greatest movie made on Indian rural life. That's why Akira Kurosawa said of him:"To have not seen the films of Ray is to have lived in the world without ever having seen the moon and the sun"

*** WARNING: SPOILERS ***

The three films Pather Panchali, Aparajito and Apur Sansar form a trilogy, and, although each holds up well in itself, they are best viewed as a unity. Speaking on a purely personal note, I know of no greater achievement in cinema, and have certainly seen nothing that moves me more profoundly.

The twin themes of these films are progress and loss. The former implies the latter, and both are, in a sense, inevitable. This is, as all summaries must be, an over-simplification. Certainly, the loss of childhood, of innocence, of parents, is universal to the human condition. Growing up, progressing from childhood to maturity, is similarly inevitable. But Apu wills his progress: at least, he wills its direction. He always grapples with life, painful though it is. Only once, after the death of his wife (in the third film of the trilogy), does he turn his back upon life, but this crisis is temporary: the trilogy ends with Apu once again facing the future willingly, uncertain though it is.

It is this refusal to turn one's back, to stagnate, this refusal to renounce, that forms the backbone of this trilogy, and gives it a unity throughout its often disparate episodes. The central character of these films, Apu, always aspires towards becoming something greater, other than what he is. He wants to educate himself. This, in a western context, appears somewhat obvious, but, given Apu's background, education is something to strive towards, to struggle for; and Apu, despite great temptation, never abandons this struggle. It is not that he sees education as a means towards wealth or power: this is not, after all, anything so crude as a rags to riches story. But he does want to outgrow the village, to understand, and come to terms with life and the larger world outside. And in this he is, as is suggested by the title of the second film, aparajito, undefeated.

Over the three films, we see Apu progress from childhood to, perhaps, his early thirties. In this progression, we see his character develop through experience. This experience is often painful, and Apu is not always capable of rising above the pain. Perhaps no other film has depicted with such a terrible intensity the emotional pain of loss; but the vision, ultimately, is far from tragic. The last film - Apur Sansar - actually ends with a sense of joy. The joy is by no means unqualified: it has been hard won, and we, the audience, recognize its fragility. But it is, nonetheless, exhilarating.

Pather Panchali, the first of the trilogy, takes place some time early in the 20th century, and covers the years of Apu's early childhood. We see him born into a poverty-stricken family in rural Bengal. Later, we see Apu at play with his sister, Durga; we see him excited by the travelling players; we observe the uncomprehending wonder of Apu and Durga as they see a train for the first time. We are shown all those events of childhood that are apparently trivial, but which nonetheless shape the adult personality.

Apu's mother Sarbojaya (the superb Karuna Banerjee), is understandably harassed, trying to keep her family clothed and fed. The father, Harihar, is good-natured, other-worldly, and quite unpragmatic. With the family lives an aged aunt, Indir. She is a pathetic figure, helplessly eking out a meagre existence on the charity of those who barely have enough for themselves, and relying on Durga - with whom she has a close relationship - to supplement her inadequate diet with stolen fruit. Aware of her status, Indir generally speaks and acts in an ingratiating and conciliatory manner; but there is a repressed rage within her that bursts out on occasion. It is a magnificent performance from the aged actress Chunibala Devi. Sarbojaya has no patience with this old woman, and takes little trouble to hide the fact that she is unwanted. This is not out of deliberate cruelty, or indifference: it is simply that looking after her own immediate family is burden enough. The old woman, desparately trying to retain the last vestiges of her dignity, is forever storming out, attempting to find a roof to shelter under from some other relative. But she keeps returning: even a hostile roof, after all, is preferrable to none. It is a picture of desperation which moves the heart beyond mere pity. There is one particularly heart-rending scene where she sits in the dark singing of death in her old, cracked voice.

This first part of the trilogy ends in tragedy - Durga's death - and I know of nothing in cinema that delivers so powerful an emotional punch. It took me quite unawares at first viewing, and even on repeated viewings, it moves me like nothing else I have seen. Particularly unforgettable is Apu's final, quiet act of love for his dead sister, which really needs to be seen in its proper dramatic context to be appreciated. It is the end of a chapter in the family's life, and they move on. The sense of loss is overwhelming.

This is perhaps the best film ever made about childhood. I watch the entire trilogy about once every year, and wonder afresh at what cinema, at its best, is capable of achieving.

It is a little known fact that India produces more films per year than any other country. The reason that most people don't know that is because their films do not generally appeal to us, and we would see them as oddities suspended in their own culture. Possibly they'd be amusing or interesting to watch, but they would probably be hard to enjoy (to demonstrate the difference in taste, Roger Ebert attended an Indian film festival a year or two ago, and when he questioned its director what American film did the best business over there, he answered that the movie _Baby's Day Out_, which is basically like one of those Popeye cartoons where Sweet-Pea wanders through construction sights blindly, except extended to 90 minutes, had theaters packed in India all throughout its run; the film bombed completely in the US). Tastes differ. Humanity does not. This is proved to the utmost in Ray's masterful _Pather Panchali_.

This film has got to be the best ever made about, well, life in general. It reminded me a lot of a Chinese film, Zhang Yimou's _To Live_, which was good, but its situations finally seemed a bit contrived. _Pather Panchali_ feels as real as life itself. To be sure, it contains great moments of sadness, but, for the most part, it concentrates on the beauty of the world around us. One of the major characters is this ancient woman, maybe even in her nineties. She is hunched over, has no teeth, and has crooked eyes. But Ray makes her form beautiful. He often finds characters with exaggerated and odd features. And there is nothing more beautiful in this world than the love between members of a family, and Ray revels in this. The relationship between the brother and sister is heartstoppingly beautiful.

I could not say anything bad about this film. But there is one thing I would like to see: a DVD version of this film, and indeed of each of the films of the Apu Trilogy, and only Criterion could do this effectively, which is kind of disappointing, since I know a major film company already owns its rights and would probably never give them up without huge pay; a DVD version with scholarly commentary. Hindu symbology is present in a large quantity in this film, along with several Hindi ceremonies. Of course, I loved seeing this. I am not completely unfamiliar with the culture, so I was able to catch a little, but there is so much I don't know. A commentary track on a DVD would help me understand the film better, and thus love it even more.

I've been asked what my favorite film of all time is. It's a silly question, and the answer might have changed over the years. But I am certain now. It is "Pather Panchali," completed by Satyajit Ray in 1955. Strange that I would settle on an Indian film, since I have specialized all my life in Italian movies and think I know a good deal about them. But no, "Pather Panchali," spoken in Bengali and made on a budget that couldn't buy a coffee break on a major production anywhere today, is my favorite film.

Why? Oh, goodness...because of its poetry, its humanity, its timeless and haunting lyric beauty, its imagery, its powerful portrayal of a family and a culture. I first saw it when I was a senior in high school. I went to the Avon in Providence, where it played for a week in 1959. Overwhelmed, I went three or four times that week. I told people about it but nobody seemed interested. And it's futile even now to promote this film among folks who only respond to graphic action, moronic one-liner comedies, thundering vacuous soundtracks, the vapid melodrama of snakes on planes. "Pather Panchali" means "Song of the Road," and was the first film by its director, made as a total labor of love. He began in 1952 in 16mm, then got financing from the Bengal government to complete the work in 35mm. It took four years, and was shown to great acclaim at Cannes, where it won one of the top awards. It was a radical departure from Indian film convention which has characters breaking out into song every ten minutes, regardless of the story.

The movie was the first of a trilogy Ray completed in a few years. "The Apu Trilogy" is about the life of an idealistic hero. "Pather Panchali" deals with the youth of Apu and his impulsive sister Durga, and the travails of his Brahmin priest father and his worrying mother in the midst of crushing poverty. The second and third parts are "Aparajito" and "The World of Apu." All these classics are highly acclaimed masterpieces and very much liked by discriminating audiences.

"Pather Panchali" turns everyday childhood occurrences into wondrous events, whether it is brother and sister crossing the fields filled with white feathery rushes to see a train in the distance, a pursuit of the candy man, a Hindu feast, the wonders of the natural world, an ancient aunt telling bedtime stories to children. Death interrupts the family twice, taking away young Durga too. The scene in which the long-absent father returns to learn of the death of his daughter is a lacerating wail from the beyond. Apu's concealing forever the suddenly-learned truth of a secret theft by his sister is a moment, once seen, can never be forgotten. In sadness, mother, father, young son move away. The film ends.

Musician-composer Ravi Shankar did the beautiful score. He was a virtual unknown at the time, but I traced down recordings of his music (decades before his legendary Woodstock appearance!) and still listen to them. Ray was influenced by the Italian neo-realists, particularly De Sica in "The Bicycle Thief," which he said bowled him over.

In the mid-90s the films of Ray were restored and reissued to great acclaim, and retrospectives took place everywhere. "Pather Panchali" and the rest of the "Apu Trilogy" are available on video or DVD at libraries and retailers and form the nucleus of any collection of world cinema. It is a shining work of art.

I have just finished Pather Panchali. To be honest, it took almost two weeks to watch it. Not only interruptions, but the shear poverty of the individuals--the family--is overwhelming. Each member exhibits their poverty and destitution in a different way. My favorite character is Durga, who gives and gives until she reaches the point where she is tired of not receiving.

I will forever remember this movie, and I hope to watch the other two parts of the trilogy.

I have to have this film in my collection. Movies that make you think and think again, and search your heart for answers that sometimes never come.

The film is certainly a masterpiece. The film is overwhelmingly real and the key element in the movie is the maintenance of this realism. The characters are so true to the ethnic rural-sixties Indian existence that one is compelled to wonder if the film was captured through surveillance cameras.

Pather Panchali, released in 1955, is the first film of director Satyajit Ray's Apu trilogy. The film is a serene and beautiful depiction of a little boy's childhood in the Indian countryside in the 1950s.The film was made on a shoestring budget by a hitherto unknown director. Apart from a seventy-year-old woman who made her name in the 1930s on the stage, none of the cast had ever acted before and many had been plucked from the Indian rurality. In contrast Satyajit Ray completed the trilogy on the behest of the Indian Prime Minister, pointing to the film's cultural impact.

It's a quiet, simple tale, centering on the life of a small family living in a rural village in Bengal. The father, Harihar (Kanu Bannerjee), is a priest and poet who cares more about his writing and spiritual welfare than obtaining wages he is owed. The mother, Sarbojaya (Karuna Bannerjee), worries that her husband's financial laxity will leave her without enough food for her two children, daughter Durga (Uma Das Gupta) and son Apu (Subir Bannerjee). Harihar's family often lives on the edge of poverty, coping with the unkind taunts of their neighbors, the burden of caring for an aging aunt (Chunibala Devi), and the terrible aftermath of a natural catastrophe.

Most of what transpires is shown through the eyes of either Sarbojaya or Durga, and, as a result, we identify most closely with these two. Harihar is absent for more than half of the movie, and, before the penultimate scene, Apu is a mere witness to events, rather than a participant. Until the closing moments, we don't get a sense of the young boy as a fully formed individual, since he's always in someone else's shadow.

The simple story of the Bengali family will definitely stay in my heart for a long time to come. If you haven't seen it yet, what are you waiting for?........

I originally saw the Apu trilogy in 1961 in a little theater in Berkley. Sat through a straight showing of all three films and walked out after six hours in awe. It was a defining day in the development of an avid film buff. I have waited three years for the DVDs to be released, and hoped against hope that Criterion would get the rights, but it was not to be. Sony has released an unadorned, Mirchant and Ivory Foundation restoration: but they are finally available. I bought all three of the Trilogy the day they were released, but have been reluctant to put them on. So many of my memories of "great" films have made me wonder what I was on when I saw it to think that was great. Think "Brewster McCloud." My experience of Pather Panchali and the full trilogy was a memory I didn't want diminished in any way. Tonight I came home from work, put the Pather Panchali in and sat totally rapt for the full two hours. The DVD production values and the print quality are really bad in spots, but all that fades as one of the really great art films takes over, and the immersion in the lives behind the film works its magic. Film doesn't have to be an act of corporate commerce: Pather Panchali is living proof that film can be a medium of great art.

...it is one of those greatest works of art..so lyrical yet so composed. there is one phrase that Ray has used extensively in his writings; something that his professor use to say when he was studying painting in Shantiniketan: "look at Fujiyama, Fire within and Calm without. There is the symbol of true oriental artist..." i think it best describes Ray's work where he suggests in his cinema enormous reserves of power and feelings which never spill into emotional displays.

the strength and variety of the cinematic craftsmanship in this film can be explored endlessly, but what strikes me the most, is the way his work has confirmed, sustained and nurtured the existence of an art form, western in origin, transplanted and taking root in Indian soil. in a way pather panchali is so 'rooted'. it is so earthy and 'regional' at core and may be thats why its 'international', may be thats why, despite being the product of its time and place it is universal in its appeal. the moods and moments that he creates are simply 'matchless'. so simple, and yet so profound. the Indir Thakuran sequences of the film remain for me the highest, noblest and rare expression of art in Indian films so far (except films by Ghatak and Mrinal Sen) The film induces a kind of contemplation and a sense of wonder, about the truth, individual and privet. almost without you being aware of it it opens windows to the truth that lies within and beyond the boundaries of cinema itself.

Ray's "Pather Panchali," the first of his unforgettable "Apu Trilogy," is a remarkable film experience. The acting is strong, the direction and script, sure, and the total work, eloquent and moving. A film which one can return to again and again, and each time one can discover new elements. This is a staple of my video library, along with Ray's other two films which complete the trio, "Aparajito" and "The World of Apu." I have watched the trilogy in a continuous sitting on two occasions, and the experience was emotionally overwhelming.

This has to be by-far Satayjit Ray's most beautiful and greatest achievement in cinema. Looking at all the aspects, will definitely inspire someone to make a film more like this in our generation. I saw this film at a recent 50th anniversary screening in my hometown. I really loved the director's beautiful creation, his attention to detail works very neatly and exactly as the director had planned. I wish i had got to see the Apu Trilogy, the character which followed in the other two sequels, must be watched also.

The story is simple, only focusing on the life of one family. but the true trademarks of the film go to the Actors, the Director and his screenplay. Anyone who wants to learn film-making must not miss this film. A true cinematic achievement's and one of the most beautiful films from one of the most important directors of this era.

This is a tour de force around a family's quest for that better future amidst sheer poverty. The film's success is not limited only to realistic depiction of human condition in early 20th century Bengal, but it brings up the triumph of human spirit, love and affection in spite of utter struggle in the most poignant way that one may think. Anybody remotely connected with movie making should also watch APARAJITO AND APUR SANSAR, to complete the experience, and off course to understand the art and craft of cinematic expression from the Maestro. No doubt it ranks in top 100 movie list from Time magazine, not to speak of almost all Indian publications connected with films rate this one as THE MOVIE.

There is this one scene in Satyajit Ray's Pather Panchali when the eruption of a conflict between Apu's family and a quarrelsome neighbour brought the film to a complete standstill (for me anyway). Those few characters' state of mind and their relationship dynamics at that point in time, was conveyed with such explosive intensity, I got gut punched drunk.

Pather Panchali boasts of suitably melodramatic yet highly intuitive performances. Its breath taking cinematography ranks alongside existential beauty this side of Malick heaven. The musical scoring, by the great Ravi Shankar, is identifiably Indian, yet universally sublime. Together, these myriad parts melded into a whole so grand in its social consciousness, so incisively intimate in its portrait of one family, I could do nothing but be slowly devoured like a most willing prey.

On 4th Oct 2003, I saw my all time favourite film, Tokyo Story. The feeling I got today from Pather Panchali, is as close as is possible from that fateful October day.

Pather Panchali is one of the best films I have ever seen. This will be a night to remember. Now on with the other two then.

I won't go into detail about this film, because the greatest films ask that you really just sit back and enjoy them without questioning. This is in a very very small handful of films that create a kind of 'ecstatic truth' that Werner Herzog is always talking about. There is not a moment of hand-fed emotion, and that's probably what hits you first after the film is finished. This is probably why the film has not hit even the first 250 on the IMDb list, while it is more easily accessible than, say, most 'foreign' pictures, it still refuses at every turn to make a cliché out of itself or to be unfair to the audience or its characters by making its machinations obvious, a ploy that most filmgoers fall for time and time again. A reason for this might be that Ray, a young director at the time who had already worked with Jean Renoir on his landmark film about India called 'the River', really didn't have a lot of money or power to wield around, and made this tight, intimate story on a shoestring with an amateur crew, without real concern for anything else but this story that he wanted to tell. A lot of that comes across - the locations, the actors - were all real, however this is a work of masterful collaboration between director, cinematographer, actors, sound recordist, and particularly the editors, a collaboration that is unparalleled in most modern, big budget films. This is a movie created solely with passion, and I am joining in the crusade to make this one of the top 250 on IMDb, though it should, by default, belong on the top 10 of anybody's list.

POSSIBLE SPOILERS:

"Pather Panchali" is not only the start of a highly recommended trilogy (the so called "Apu trilogy") but also the first film of the legendary Indian director Satyajit Ray.It is hard to believe that his entire team as well as himself were busy on their first ever film project.According to Ray himself the first half of the movie is not satisfactory as it is in some ways amateurish.The second half however is very fluent.These are his words and although I concur with his analysis I have to say that the first half is also of a high level.The second part however is truly great and even more so when you remember that it is his first movie ever.

That the movie was finished is all thanks to the West Bengal Government who saw some parts of it and wanted to finance the rest,since Ray's money was all spend. As said,the first half is a bit slow and incoherent but that doesn't take away it's overall drama and power.

Most of the actors were unexperienced but that doesn't really show.All star performances are from Chunibala Devi as the old "Auntie" (she died before release),Uma Das Gupta as "Durga" and Subir Bannerjee as the young "Apu".These two youngsters played only in this movie,I wonder what ever happened to them. My favorite performance comes from Karuna Bannerjee as she plays Durga's and Apu's mother,a very powerful and convincing role it is.

The story is about family life in rural Bengal and although there are several great scenes in the movie my favorite one is the scene in which Durga is sick and her mother tries to cure her in the middle of the night while the storm is raging outside.This scene is so realistic that it actually feels that you are there,the chills came over me.The next morning Durga has died and left her mother helpless while the father (played by Kanu Bannerjee) is returning from his voyage in search of money.

Another important part of the movie (besides Ray's great directing) is the music of Ravi Shankar,who is best known for his friendship in the late sixties with "The Beatles" (listen to "Within or Without You" on the legendary album "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band").The music can be annoying to some people because of the always present "Sitar",but to me it is a necessary add-on to the movie.

For me as a film lover this movie was very much an experience since it was the first Indian movie that I say.I've rented the entire trilogy so I can't compare them yet,but I will do so in the comments on the other two. Anyway,as I am a film lover (and future Film student in September) this was a personal must see.After watching it I can't wait to see the rest of the trilogy and other Ray movies.

9/10 (currently number 61 in my top 100)

This astoundingly powerful movie depicts the life of a poor "Brahmin" family in a rural Indian village. The movie conveys the power of hope that can sustain ordinary people beset by the most hopeless of circumstances. The acting was sublime. I wonder where they found the woman who played the old auntie. Rake-thin and bent over, she could convey entire worlds of meaning with her sunken eyes. I don't want to even try to explain the movie, conveying the essence of this one is beyond my abilities. I could not get this movie out of my mind for weeks. I am not the sort of person who even remotely feels like crying during movies, but this one had me weeping like a child.

Magnus.

"Pather Panchali", Satyajit Ray's debut film about life in a Bengali village, was the first movie from India to gain wide recognition and acclaim in the west. It is an affecting story of a rural family struggling to deal with poverty and tragedy in their ancestral home. Ray adapted the script from Bibhuti Bihushaw Banerjee's semi-autobiographical novel of the same title and retells it with natural beauty and a quiet perspective. The filmmaker, who came from a literary and artistic background(He was a product of the Indian Renaissance) was interested in the contemporary problems of his country-and he shared with the Neorealist films from Italy- a simple and direct approach to making movies. Ray created ordinary scenes that were incredibly life-like. His films contained very few strains of artifice. He believed that the raw material of cinema was life itself. Ray generally concentrated on small subjects and ordinary people. He favored using non-actors and shooting on location to heighten the realism. He made films in his own style; dignified and subtle; sincere and with a conscience. In "Pather Panchali" (Song of the Little Road") Ray makes superb use of his milieu. The viewer immediately feels the cramped conditions of the families' decaying house and the open-air confines of the surrounding forest. When Ray sends his camera beyond the village, the observer can sense the allure and freedom of the vast fields that spring immodestly from a thin, winding trail. Rays' was a cinema of thought and feeling, in which emotion was deliberately restrained because it is so strong. This restraint adds to the psychological intensity in his work. Nearly all of his films are marked by this remarkable depth of feeling. "Pather Panchali", the first installment of the Apu Trilogy("Aparajito" and "The World of Apu" would follow) depicts a young boy (Apu) exploring his ever-expanding universe with a growing sense of wonder. Ray excelled at showing how children and adolescents confront mystery and joy; sadness and death. The director shows Apu's burgeoning awareness with a masterful use of the long shot. High-angled, distant shots track Apu and his older sister Durga, as they run spiritedly through white-kashed fields. This sense of discovery gives the film it's emotional power. The director's main subject was India-it's customs and culture. It's conflicts between the traditional way of life and the impact and influence of the West. He tried arduously to capture this synthesis between western ideas and traditional Hindu values. His concern for human problems and not issues of national politics gave his films universal appeal. "Pather Panchali" delineates the small joys and acute sorrows of a poor Indian family. It is an endearing testament that poverty does not nullify love and that even the most afflicted person can find some modest pleasures in their world. The film's indigenous sound track is vital to Ray's story of ancestral limitations. Twanging ektaras, wailing tarshehnais and six-stringed sitars resound liberally throughout the movie. It would be difficult to imagine "Pather Panchali" without it's memorable score. Satyajit Ray was an unpretentious filmmaker. He was genuinely uninterested in commercial considerations. His films were life-affirming, authentic and honest; gentle and poetic- truthful observations on human behavior that employed simple but strong themes. Ray's unadorned style of film-making was intimate, probing, and revealing. (Possible spoiler) The final scene shows the grieving family leaving their home in an ox-driven carriage to begin a new life. A trailing camera in medium close-up captures a compelling mixture of emotions on their faces. Expressions of pain and resolution; hope and despair; the future and the past. A seemingly simple yet unmistakably powerful scene that typifies Satyajit Ray's profound cinema. A cinema of gentle but deep observation, understanding and unabashed love of the human race.

What a wonderful film. For those who have not watched any films from India or heard of Ray, I strongly recommend it. Full of sadness, hope, innocence, and despair, it is an emotionally evocative portrait of the life of an Indian family, their trials, and their courage and persistence throughout. They go on, not because they are exceptional, but because they must, because they are human.

Ray does a masterful job of capturing the simple joys of childhood, and the ambitions and dreams which make us all human, regardless of where we are. Simple scenes such as a disfigured elderly woman seated on a porch, singing of her approaching death, are very moving. I have never seen the basic elements of life treated with such an incisive yet soft touch as Ray has in this film. It is wonderful to watch in comparison to the broad writing strokes and vulgar generalities of most directing and writing today. At the risk of sounding trite, this is a film which is not merely entertainment or art, but one which reaches into your heart and makes a place for itself there. It belongs there.

As an anthropologist who is a film buff, I'm always fascinated by films with solid ethnographic content. Ironically, I must confess that I had never seen Pather Panchali completely. The several times I started to watch the film, seemingly something arose during those few times and I never got very far into it. However, now in my senescent years, I finally got around to seeing it after realizing that I never had taken the time to see it. Having read about the trilogy and about Satyajit Ray, I look back and wonder why of all the classics I've seen, I'd overlooked these works of Ray. Maybe it was the trauma I experienced 50 years ago at UC Berkeley while taking a year of Sanskrit but I doubt it. I'll only say now I must have been saving it for a treat during my later years. And, what a treat! The film has a languid quality and moves slowly, listfully. The imagery is diffused due to in part the quality of the film but the eye of the camera misses nothing from shots of nature to a kitten stumbling and licking itself, to the old Auntie brushing away flies from her food. The starkness of their poverty does not affect the world of a little boy as it does his frustrated mother and sister. His father, a kind-hearted dreamer, seems resigned to his lot and is willing to take less to keep his sense of life and desire in balance. All of this life trajectory is classic Indian and Ray shows us to us through the camera's eye in a way that is moving, joyous and profound. This is their world and Ray lets us see it through their eyes. Akira Kurasawa called Ray a genius and we guess we could say, it took one to know one.

Growing up in India I had heard of this movie as one of Satyajit Ray's classics and a movie which showed the utter poverty of rural India. Anything classic used to evoke a feeling of a movie usually boring and worse it's most likely would be a black and white film lamenting on the sorry state of human affairs. Of course those were the childhood metrics to gauge what a good film should be and thankfully I have outgrown those notions.

Nevertheless I wanted to watch this movie when Satyajit Ray died in 1992 and once again media was talking about his movies. But somehow I didn't have access to this movie anywhere (those days of VHS tapes).

I watched this movie recently and was in a stunned mode throughout the span of movie. What an emotional roller coaster ride this had been and it has been done without even making you feel that it's a movie, it's just seems real life happening in front of your eyes. I don't want to describe much the story here(as other have already commented much) but more of what I felt watching (re-watching)this movie. The beautiful and poetic flow of this movie is so smooth that you sort of start living the life as depicted. This movie conveys the reality of hard life but with such gracefulness that you don't feel utterly bad or depressed rather you start contemplating about your existence and the beauty in such mundane things that we tend to ignore. This film gives you the moment, the pause, that forces you to reflect on the meaning of life. There were many moments in the film which touched the heart in many ways: - Durga and Apu's longing for sweets and following the "misty kaka" (candy man) in hope. - Old Aunt's happiness on such small things as getting a stolen fruit, couple of stolen chillies, etc. - Mom's inner strength on managing on in a hopeless situation and shattering of it with Durga's death. - Father's wail on hearing the fate of Durga... - Apu's instinctive hiding of the truth about Durga's theft.

I am fascinated and surely will watch the other two movies in the trilogy...

True art transcends its medium. Like being connected to a higher spirit of life. God bless you Satyajit Ray. The reason I became a film maker. The essential element here is, I think, humility. Humility in the eyes of one's fellow man, in the eyes of a higher common spirit. Puts to shame the common ego on display by most directors. Ray puts his characters, their story, their humanity before all else. This is what the great art of film making is for, and what it can teach us all. A film of a pure and great love.

This is a film popular the world over amongst film scholars as a 'World Cinema' masterpiece. For various reasons it is most definitely that - a masterpiece.

Ray started making this film in 1950 and finally completed it in '54. The problem? Lack of a financial backer. The reasons for this were two: 1)Ray was an unknown in the film-making business and 2)his ideas for the film were deemed unworkable in terms of catering to a paying audience. However, Ray persevered and managed to obtain the financing from the local West Bengal Govt. and in the process changed the face of Indian cinema forever (and it needed some changing too).

This is a miraculous film if one is to look at what had preceded it in India and most of what has come after. It is sensitive to the ambiance of rural Bengal (which is brought out oh so beautifully by the graceful photography and the musical score of Ravi Shankar) and it is - unlike most Indian cinema - honest and tender to its rustic characters without a shade of any patronising or exploitative element. The result is a beautiful, warm, languid film that truly captures the essence of village life in Bengal in a celluloid form that any movie-goer the world over will be able to not only appreciate, but more importantly, love.

The acting is stunning considering a lot of non-actors were used here - a la De Sica's 'The Bicycle Thief', an inspiration according to Ray. I must mention the lady who plays Chunibala - you will not find a role better executed in cinema. A prostitute in her younger days, Ray tracked her down at the local Red Light District where she was living with her daughter. Ray was always an expert at picking the right man for the role and then prodding them along till they produced near-perfect performances on screen and this film is no different.

This is a landmark film for Indian cinema in so many ways - the first time in India that shooting happened almost entirely outdoors, the first time someone with any knowledge of the film medium and film-making the world over handled a camera, the first time that actors acted naturally instead of the melodrama-infused performances that were and still are the norm in Indian cinema. Keeping everything surrounding the film in mind, and then watching the film for the beautiful journey that it is - makes you realise just how immense this work is. A remarkable tour-de-force. A triumph of cinema in a truly hostile environment for intelligent film-making.

Ray's Pather Panchali is a document of unbridled realism which explores the life of a Bengali family in their struggles with the harsh conditions of early 20 th century India. Existing in an infinate desert of mainstream 'in your face' hollywood cinema, I found this film a wonderful oasis. I do admit that this film moves very slow and I did initially struggle with this. However, its slow pace allows one to "slow down" and explore the richness of Ray's portrayl of symbolism and quiet desparation. In the recent North American curiousity of Bollywood films, Pather Panchali is NOT this. Rather, this film is a genuine masterpiece that will be treasured for generations.

Impoverished priest Harihar Ray (Kanu Bannerjee),dreaming of a better life for himself and his family, leaves his rural Bengal village in search of work.

The realist narrative style of "Pather Panchali" was influenced by Italian neorealism and the works of French director Jean Renoir. In 1949 Renoir came to Calcutta to shoot his film "The River" (1951). Ray, a founding member of the Calcutta Film Society (established in 1947), helped him scout for locations in the countryside. When Ray told him about his longstanding wish to film Pather Panchali, Renoir encouraged him to proceed.

I absolutely love Renoir's "River", so I am pleased to see there is a connection between that film and this one. Unfortunately for me ,I saw a copy that was less than great. It looked pretty washed out. The 2015 Criterion version is no doubt the must-see edition, but I did not have it available to me.

Watching the film, Pather Panchali (Song of the Little Road) directed by Satyajit Ray, you would have thought that Ray was a season veteran director, but in truth, it's his debut work about the life of a family in Bengal living in poverty. Based on the novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay, when Ray started this film, I think Ray had literally never held a movie camera. I understand that Italian neo-realist films had a big influence on him; all to the better. There are a number of key scenes shot in the film that beholds the beauty and emotional depth in itself. The film never had a complete script; it was made from Ray's drawings and notes. Ray tried to extract and build a simple theme out of the apparently random sequences of significants. Some notable shifts from the novel in the script include the death scenes of key characters, one which occurs quite early in the novel in a village shrine at the presence of some adult members of the family; in the film that key character dies in the open in the presence of the family children, Apu and Durga. The scene of Apu and Durga running to catch a glimpse of the train is not there in the novel, neither child manages to see the train there, although they made an attempt. That scene alone is well played. Such a beautiful scene. I love the sounds of the wind and the hum of the electricity, and the slow, fading edits. It captures perfectly the landscape and the young child's curiosity. The train shows the changes happening in India, and we know the children will grow into a world that is different to their parents. They are left gazing at a thin veil of smoke as the sound of the wind returns. It is very moving. Camera work as usual in Satyajit Ray's film is always brilliant as it has used lot of drifting tracking shot. There almost cosmic emotional power in some other scenes, such as the sunset with Apu and that of the monsoon. The scene from when the snake creeps into an abandoned 'house of sorrows' to their stunned faces on the ox cart was a unforgettable Ravi Shankar theme. I think it foreshadows death. Apu & sister Durga share an intimate bond, they exploring their little world and sharing secrets are the most remarkable aspect of this film. The language might be foreign to me but the emotions were completely native. The film took three years to complete the shooting, and it's was just lucky it got finished with little to no money to product. Pather Panchali was followed by two films that continued the tale of Apu's life 'Aparajito' (The Unvanquished) in 1956 & Apur Sansar (The World of Apu) in 1959. The only faults I can find in this film is that it's insanely depressing. The movie has a lot of death, and nothing really get any better for the family as the film goes on. There is no happy ever after, as this isn't Slumdog Millionaire. The movie is hard to find, and if found, it's rarely in English subtitles and the video transfer is horrible, the sound transfer only marginally better. Another factor is the disconnection by scene to scene, and gives an all-inclusive quality to the film; yet it is also distracting and contributes to the film's great weakness: its general diffuseness, its inability to command sustained attention as the film pace is slow. For Pather Panchali, remarkable as it may be, is something of a chore to sit through. It's run time is 122 mins, and there are long periods of time of nothing going on. One can stare in dull amaze for only so long looking at nature. The first half is nearer to social realism, setting out the social hierarchies, introducing characters and their social or family role, defining them against other people, their home and nature. The second half of the film, however, becomes more abstract, even mystical. There is less reliance on words as characters go through strange rites where the emphasis is on observation or action. Film is still better than 2 most of today's loud, flashy torture bollywood movies. This film is true art.

10/10... arguably the best ever Indian movie. I don't like to repeat on the statements which my fellow reviewers have already expressed. What more you can say of this movie..a masterpiece, oh no!! I think you have to term a word which is more superlative than "superlative". It's a pity the year "Pather Panchali" was released there was no Oscar category for foreign language films, otherwise, India would have won one, of course, if the Indian government had chose to send this above the bollywood movies.

I liked one of the comments of the reviewers, if Hollywood is 'dumb' then bollywood is 'dumber'. Really speaking, I doubt if anyone in India can ever cross the brilliance of this film, hailed as a masterpiece! At least tell me any B'wood films which even comes half close, not even the over rated "Lagaan"!! This movie and of course, other Ray's movies are intelligent, real and visualistic art. So what are the b'wood ones: tissue papers....and the worst part of it is years after years these "dumber" movies have been sent for Oscar nominations incessantly! Time to grow up b'wood, isn't it?? And what the foreigners see?? The scraps of the traditional bollywood "dumber" movies; what they miss: the excellence of the regional Indian movies!! Hey, are you listening Bollywood??