Why The World of Apu is a classic among world cinema

 Satyajit Ray's The World of Apu (Apur Sanar, 1959), the conclusion of his Apu trilogy (and based on the novel Aparajito, by Bibhutibhashan Bandopodhyay) not only lives up to its reputation as a classic in world cinema, it may even go beyond its reputation, as it looks better, more original, more mysterious than it probably did back in the 1950s, as now its views of Calcutta look like time capsules, a view of another world, whereas the scenes of rural India (the slow boat ride along a winding river to the wedding site, scenes late in the film on the mountainous coal-mining region of what I think is Bengal, in winter) look even more devastatingly beautiful in their b/w imagery, which adds a sense of distance and classic taste to films of its era. The story line - young man (Apu Roy, played by great, expressive Soumitra Chatterjee, who died last week btw) leaves college because he can't afford the fees and sets off on his own, with dreams of becoming a great writer - living in a rundown, dismal apartment, his clothes in tatters, and the landlord threatening him w/ eviction - yet he has an optimistic, survivor's spirit and he looks for work (a devastating part of the film, as we see the conditions in which others, w/out his formal education, are forced to work) and carouses w/ his friend Balu as they share their dreams and optimism. The 2 guys seem entirely contemporary - and a throwback to many other great works about artistic and amorous dreams crashing against reality: think La Boheme, or Sentimental Education, or Great Expectations to name 3. Apu's life takes some dramatic twists and turns, which I will not divulge, as he experiences joy and exhilaration, young love and aspiration (with the beautiful Sharmila Tagore as his wife Aparna), tragedy, depression, and at least partial recovery and reconciliation. There are so many beautiful scenes and moments, but of particular beauty are the many shots of trains criss-crossing the smog-glutted outskirts of Calcutta as well as Aparna's arrival at Apu's dwelling, in particular the long take of her tearfully peering through a threadbare, tattered curtain her new surroundings. Also notable is the haunting score by the then little-known (in the West) Ravi Shankar.