Ashani Sanket (Distant Thunder, 1973) Adapted from the novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay, the film is a cinematic elegy rendered in quiet, resounding tones by Satyajit Ray. Filmed in vivid colour, a rare departure from the monochrome austerity of his earlier works, this Bengali masterpiece captures the harrowing beauty of rural Bengal during the Great Famine of 1943. At its heart is Gangacharan, a young Brahmin doctor and school teacher, portrayed with solemn grace by Soumitra Chatterjee, a frequent and beloved Ray collaborator. By his side stands Angana, his wife, played by Bangladeshi actress Bobita, in what remains her most internationally celebrated role. The supporting cast includes the debut of theatre stalwart Mrityunjay Sil, alongside Sandhya Roy, Chitra Banerjee, Govinda Chakravarti, Anil and Noni Ganguly, Debatosh Ghosh, Ramesh Mukherjee, Sheli Pal, and Suchita Ray Chaudhury. Ray’s lens, guided by the artistry of cinematographer Soumendu Roy, rests gently upon a Bengal village on the cusp of devastation. The rhythms of agrarian life unfold slowly, almost serenely until hunger creeps in like an uninvited storm. The famine, which claimed over three million lives, is seen not through statistics, but through the erosion of tradition, dignity, and community. This is not a film about famine, it is a film about human endurance within it. Shot in the Indian province of Bengal, specifically in Birbhum, a district of West Bengal, a real village hut was prepared for authenticity, and used for the filming in Dangapara, an area within the Indian region. Originally, it was Sharmila Tagore who had been cast opposite Soumitra Chatterjee, continuing what had been a celebrated artistic partnership with Satyajit Ray. However, despite their long and fruitful collaboration marked by luminous performances in films like Devi, Nayak, and Aranyer Din Ratri, Tagore ultimately did not appear in the film. Instead, the role of Angana, Gangacharan’s wife, was entrusted to Bobita, the acclaimed Bangladeshi actress. In her sole prominent international role, Bobita brought a quiet intensity to the character, becoming an integral part of the film’s enduring emotional resonance. Though Tagore’s absence marked a departure from Ray's usual ensemble, it also allowed new voices to emerge within his cinematic universe. Vincent Canby of The New York Times called it “moving” and “elegiac,” admiring its epic impact achieved without grand gestures. He linked it spiritually to Ray’s Apu Trilogy, citing the return of Chatterjee and Bandopadhyay’s prose, yet affirmed its distinct tonal restraint. “It is the work of a director who has learned the value of narrative economy,” Canby observed, noting its fable-like simplicity against a landscape of silent suffering. Tom Milne of Time Out praised it as “a superb film,” while Dennis Schwartz awarded it an A−, calling it “a gentle humanist film” that shines light upon the vast shadow of famine. Jay Cocks of Time echoed this reverence, describing it as “superb and achingly simple,” and lauding Ray’s decision to focus on the few to illuminate the many “Ray makes numbers count.” In 1973, Ashani Sanket was honoured with the Golden Bear for Best Film at the Berlin International Film Festival, and received national acclaim with the National Film Award for Best Feature Film in Bengali, Best Music Direction for Ray himself, and Best Cinematography for Soumendu Roy. This film remains not only a masterwork of Ray’s later career but a meditative requiem for a nation’s forgotten anguish rendered in colour, but remembered in shades of sorrow.