Third voyage It took another 11 years, both by ordinary standards (from 1980 to 1991), and by the standards of the magical kingdom of Shundi, whose inhabitants live in a kind of space-time entourage. Not separated for a moment, the Gupi and Bagha lost their patron, the elderly Maharaja, but they themselves took his throne. Their wives became wounds and their heirs became princes. But, neither those nor the other viewers again will not show even the corner of the eye. This is the only film in the trilogy that is completely devoid of the presence of a woman in the frame. If in the first story we were given at least a brief opportunity to glimpse the faces of blossoming fresh spring youth beauties-rani, and in the second part - only for a couple of seconds slipped backs and heels of fleeing settlers, in the third - the world is populated exclusively by male creatures. Patriarchate in all its tenderness of paternal piety. Gupi and Bagha are 40-plus years old, but their souls are still as pure as children’s, so their adventures are so semi-despicable, albeit with a taste of adult bitterness. And with children in their new journey to unknown countries, they communicate much more willingly than with adults.
And yet youth is gone... The body flabby, wrinkles appear more clearly and somewhere in the distance looms that strange and terrible for everyone living on Earth, which is called death. It is not new adventures that the hearts of two friends now crave, but the return of the impossible, the receipt of another wonderful gift (as if they had been given so little from their youth for life!) – the return of youth and beauty. The Bengali version of the fairy tale about rejuvenating apples and living water. I think everyone should remember it.
The appearance of the inevitable evil sorcerer-magician and scientist in one bottle - the false sannyansin Brahamanananda Acharya, of course, is expected. And I must say, this character is much scarier than the funny Barfi or the somewhat touching scientist in the second part. Acharya is a self-made Villain (with a capital letter), a true Rakshas who has adopted a beautiful senile image, and hides under false piety plots much more brutal than the simple extraction of diamonds by the labors of subjects.
So, S. Ray and his kind, really fabulous style goes back, becomes the background. But it still allows you to feel the unfading optimism and infectious smiles of the main characters. Their songs are increasingly losing their originality and beauty. There are many children in the final part of the trilogy. But most of them are transformed by the spell of Brahmananad into obedient, insensitive zombies. (What a contrast to the teenage rebels in the second part.) And the only chosen one, the bearer of light and supreme justice, the angelically beautiful child with his not at all childish, full of hidden storms, catches up with fear almost more than Acharya himself. The latter becomes almost even sorry, contrary to the director's plan Sandeep Ray. Unjust darkness destroying all living things is somehow normal, at least habitual. But a beautiful angel, all woven of radiant light, punishing evil until the complete physical destruction of his not the most fierce apologist - it's kind of creepy. And Satyajit Rey himself would have decided on the first murder in the whole trilogy in a good fairy tale for children without the active directorial guidance of his own son - a big question. A generation of people in front of cameras has changed, and even children are given tougher answers to their simple-minded questions.