Utshob: Horror, humour and above all, heart

Scrooge, the grumpy businessman from Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, finds redemption after ghostly visits on Christmas Eve. Over a century later, director Tanim Noor takes inspiration from this tale to shape Jahangir, a truly "khaishta" (incorrigible) man who begins his transformation not on Christmas but on the night before Eid.

Tanim Noor's film 'Utshob' was released on 7 June, Eid day. In Bangla cinema, Utshob arrives with a festive vibe. On one hand, it's a star-studded show; on the other, the entire film carries a celebratory mood. It's as if, after a long time, the silver screen offers a festive spectacle during a real-life celebration. 

The story revolves around the character of Jahangir, a decoration businessman and event manager from Mohammadpur, Dhaka, who lives in the Shantinir neighbourhood. He is widely disliked for being selfish, unfriendly, and indifferent to others' happiness. 

Jahangir routinely disrupts local youths' music sessions, mistreats animals, steals electricity, and turns away orphans seeking help. Despite his actions being well-known, even the local committee president remains inactive. 

This unpleasant routine defines his life—until the night before Eid. That night, Jahangir encounters ghosts. Unlike mythical jinns who abduct people to Kohkaf, these spirits guide him through his own past, present, and possible future.

Tanim Noor's film offers a reflective journey through Jahangir's life, filled with personal crises, desires, and deep regrets. The narrative cleverly explores his past through a cinematic screening at Madhumita Hall, while his future is revealed in real time. This experience prompts a profound transformation in Jahangir, who becomes a kinder neighbour, a better father, and a principled man—reminiscent of Dickens's Scrooge. 

Blending comedy and horror, the film's humour feels organic, emerging from natural dialogue rather than forced jokes. Classic lines from well-known stars add nostalgic charm. Memorable moments like Chanchal Chowdhury's "Ki, Bhoi pachchhis?" and "Hijibiji" breathe life into Shadhin Ahmed and Samiul Bhuiyan's script. However, the final act veers toward moralising, where the film tells rather than encourages viewers to think.

Secondly, in the Rajshahi segments of the 1980s and 90s shown in the film, the local dialect is absent. The distinctive language of Rajshahi across all generations has been replaced with a Dhakaiya urban tone, which is unjustified. Language becomes the most influential factor, especially when representing a specific period.

Language constantly evolves, and in this film, we could've experienced a unique 80s Rajshahi dialect full of words now no longer used. In Bangladeshi cinema, the only serious language used is that of this century's urban tone. But Tanim Noor, as a notable director, could've broken that taboo. Especially when shows like Shatikap or Sinpaat, made in Rajshahi dialect, have already solidified that idea among us.

One of the film's strongest aspects is how director Tanim Noor gives equal importance to nearly every character. Despite its concise 108-minute runtime, no role feels overshadowed. The cast—from veterans like Chanchal Chowdhury, Aupee Karim, Zahid Hasan, Afsana Mimi, and Jaya Ahsan to newer faces like Sadia Ayman, Shoumyo Jyoti, and Sunerah Binte Kamal—all make a strong impact. 

Zahid Hasan leads as Jahangir, a passive middle-class man who remains unmoved as society collapses around him. His performance gains emotional depth in the film's second half. Chanchal Chowdhury's eerie introduction later reveals a balanced mix of humour and gravity. Jaya Ahsan essentially plays herself with self-awareness, while Aupee Karim, true to form, portrays a refined, intellectual woman, aligning perfectly with her real-life persona.

The best part of the film is definitely the sweet chemistry between Jahangir and Jesmin. Their vibe feels like any young couple from any average university in Dhaka —light, playful, and full of charm. Sadia Ayman plays Jesmin, a relatable post-teen girl juggling her dreams of studying in Dhaka with household responsibilities. 

Shoumya Jyoti, as young Jahangir, might not be the most convincing VHS shop owner, but he nails the role of a 90s-style romantic. Afsana Mimi, as the older Jesmin, has a small role, but she absolutely shines—it's the kind of performance that makes audiences fall in love with her all over again. Tariq Anam Khan, as Mobarak, and Intekhab Dinar, as the doctor, also feel effortlessly natural in their roles.

The film's sound and music composition are outstanding. With Shaiba Talukder's sound engineering, the mix of music, dubbing, and foley is so excellent that it becomes a delight to watch on the big screen. Jahid Nirob has introduced incredible musical fusions. 

Before watching, one wouldn't expect a horror mashup of 'O mon Romjaner Oi Rojar Sheshe'. The tribute to Artcell's 'Dhushor Shomoy', repeated instrumental variations of 'Romjaner Oi Rojar Sheshe', and Level Five's 'Tumi' being used in this kind of film are all brilliant.

The film offers visual splendour through cinematography. Rashed Zaman's camera captures wide shots and diverse framings, but the most striking is the repeated pairwise character shots. The technique of panning from an object to making a character the subject is also notable. Dhaka is visualised through drone footage twice—once as the bustling wealthy Dhaka, and again as the cement-less brick Dhaka of Geneva Camp. This contrast is a great representation of our societal binary.

In this film, Tanim Noor repeatedly invokes the Bangladeshi film industry. We revisit a time when our cinema halls were full of films. "Shesh kobe hall e giye cinema dekhechhen?"—it's as if Jaya Ahsan is asking this to the audience themselves. However, the discussion of the film industry's role in drawing audiences back to theatres is absent. 

The old custom of going door to door to invite people for Eid dinner is revived here. Hearing Urdu from the Bihari biryani chef in Mohammadpur may also remind some of their existence. 

In a time of chaos, the family film Utshob gives the audience a pause. A chance to breathe. To reflect on their surroundings. In this deeply individualistic society, the film reminds us that everything around us also matters. 

The desires and struggles of those around us are important too. Toward the end, a raw truth is revealed: "In the film of life, there is no such thing as a main character." Utshob tells the story of old social realities through an unreal narration of realities we may never return to in the days to come.