After the wholesome impact of Open Tee Bioscope, Anindya Chattopadhyay had a point to prove in his second film.

Projapoti Biskut follows the abiding and perhaps the most reliable method of keeping the narrative style straight and simple while taking the audience through an emotional experience of one’s growing years.

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Not everyone would belong to the reasonably affluent joint family structure that the film depicts. But the basic inspiration can be related to the cultural roots that make the drama an inseparable part of Kolkata’s rapidly vanishing social environment. The director focuses on one aspect of the city’s lovable past that he knows quite well so as to build a dramatic pattern that is neat, intelligent and consistent in its human appeal.

The film works within its modest parameters to give the audience a taste of life that survives as a fond memory and of people whom they can easily recognise from childhood. This is the simple reality that drives the script and it is, fortunately, not otherwise burdened with too many ideas and elements.

Nor does the slice of social history carry any profound statement. It is developed through a series of mildly amusing images that add up to pleasing nostalgia. The best that the director could have done is to present two fresh young faces that don’t come with the baggage of the youth-oriented ideas that have flooded the film-making scene in Bengal. This also happened in Aasha Jaoar Majhethat spoke of a young couple desperately wanting to balance their personal experience with the hectic routine of city life that has kept them apart.

The two performers left a stunning impact with the technical support that remains the film’s biggest asset. In this case, the two newcomers —Aditya and Ishaa respond superbly to the basic elements of their characters. The young husband carries a sense of diffidence in his movements, expressions and his nervous exterior while his wife is more assertive in her attempts to hasten the experience of motherhood.

Their reactions are wholly credible and, with the help of a script that takes note of minute details, they manage to depict the conflict with a subtle intermixture of tension and warmth. This would not have been possible without the grooming that allows the gentle fluctuations in their relationship. The minor quarrels, the moments of despair, the medical remedies that are sought, the aborted attempts at adoption and finally the pangs of separation have cross-currents of warmth and anxiety, unforeseen unhappiness and natural yearning.

These are the simple elements that drive the screenplay rather than any pronounced effort to produce dramatic effects. Nor are there too many deviations from the concentration on the young couple who keep the script alive with their sparkling presence. One of these is the character of the mother (Sonali Basu) who worships no one other than Tagore and refrains from the established ritual of worshipping the image of the god (left on the doorstep) who may yet provide the blessing of an ardently desired addition to the family.

She is a symbol of both firmness and responsibility just as the old father is wrapped in both eccentricities and patriarchal wisdom. The script gives each of these supporting characters an identity of its own. It extends from the diction that is part of the social milieu to the bonding that keeps family structures alive. At the same time, it embraces the changes that have marked life in general while the camera moves from the lanes that house dilapidated mansions and the river ghats where romantic dreams never die to the peaceful environment of a cemetery where young people meet to grapple with the contradictions in their lives.

The visual details provide a charming impression of the city that becomes a witness to the human drama. Fortunately, the director doesn’t include aspects of the overall social climate. He focuses on the human aspects within the limited framework to celebrate the survival of traditional values. At the root of this experience is the directorial skill.

Quite clearly, it has been worked out to the last detail – from the sense of camaraderie that breaks the class barrier between families and people in general to the physical transformation that marks a new beginning and the triumph of love over unmanageable misfortune.

The basic statement may be seen to be old-fashioned but, where the look is so polished and the treatment adds a gentle touch of slapstick, it sustains the contemporary relevance. Predictably, the music becomes one of the most enjoyable features but Anindya Chattopadhyay has outgrown his musical identity to embrace unmistakable qualities of cinematic consciousness.

All this wouldn’t prompt anyone to treat Projapoti Biskut, with its limited canvas, as a classic.

What it does is to reconstruct human values with refreshing warmth, modern insights and assured craftsmanship.