Betrayal examined

Lest we forget, Soumitra Chatterjee (1935-2020) was also an accomplished playwright who excelled in translations. His association with the British stage was deep. He was always eager to read the plays making waves at the West End. Back in August 2006, he was working on an adaptation of Harold Pinter’s Betrayal (1978). Pratarana, as the adaptation is titled, never made it to the theatres during Chatterjee’s lifetime. Poulami Bose, his daughter, has taken the initiative to produce it under the Mukhomukhi banner.

An intensely psychological study of marriage, infidelity, deception and their
repercussions, Betrayal is very different from the world of The Birthday Party, The Dumb Waiter or The Caretaker, plays that Calcutta knows well. There is not an iota of absurdity in the manner in which a publisher’s wife (Bose), who also runs an art gallery, gets involved with her husband’s best friend (Sudip Mukherjee), a literary agent, and carries on for quite a few years before spilling the beans to the husband (Padmanabha Dasgupta) who had already learnt about the affair.

Chatterjee changed the settings of London and Venice to Calcutta and Gangtok, respectively. While this works, the economics of the Bengali publishing industry does not seem convincing. Bilu Dutta’s stage design reflects little of the refinement and the taste that the dialogues convey.

As the director, Bose maximises the advantage of reverse chronology that Pinter perfects in this play. Spanning over six years, the play starts as a long, lingering look at the past. With the scenes — nine in all — unfolding, and the actors moving back in time, the audience takes some time to settle. Bose keeps the guessing game alive till the climax that interpolates a visual echo of Charulata (1964), ending with outstretched hands that never meet. Bose keeps the portrayals mostly dispassionate. Dasgupta shines as the cuckold who never lets his guards down. Mukherjee’s is a restrained act that suppresses more than it reveals. Bose switches roles with ease, makes vulnerability a way of life but gives away little about the vacuum that leads to the betrayal.