Reflections of the Mind: Bengali Cinema and Mental Health

INTRODUCTION

Globally, cinema has been both a mirror and a molder of public consciousness around mental illness. From Hollywood’s portrayal of dissociative identity disorder in Split to Bollywood’s Dear Zindagi deconstructing therapy stigma, the screen mediates how societies view psychiatric disorders. In Bengal, a region steeped in intellectual introspection and cultural critique, cinema assumes a particularly nuanced role.¹ Bengali cinema, shaped by literary stalwarts and humanist ideologies, has engaged deeply with psychological distress, often long before it was medically labeled. Yet, the fidelity of these depictions to real-world psychiatry—and their profound impact on stigma, empathy, and help-seeking behavior—merits critical reflection. While often called a mirror to society, in the context of mental health, cinema may be more aptly termed a projector, casting light on what society suppresses, fears, or misunderstands.² This article aims to critically examine how Bengali cinema has portrayed mental health across decades, providing an in-depth analysis of selected works by various Indian filmmakers to understand the evolving cinematic discourse around psychological distress, psychiatric care, and neurodiversity.^3,4

SEARCH STRATEGY AND SELECTION CRITERIA

To identify relevant Bengali films depicting mental illness or psychological themes, a systematic search was conducted using the following sources:

• Primary Database: IMDb (Internet Movie Database)³

• Supplementary Sources: Wikipedia film lists⁵, academic reviews (e.g., Gooptu 2010; Mukherjee & Bakshi 2020)^4,6, and prior analyses of Indian cinema (e.g., Bhattacharyya et al. 2014; Acharya et al. 2014).^7,8

Keywords used:

• Mental health-related terms: mental illness, depression, psychosis, schizophrenia, suicide, dementia, trauma, addiction, dissociation, amnesia, burnout

• Filmmaker names: Satyajit Ray, Rituparno Ghosh, Kaushik Ganguly, Atanu Ghosh, Srijit Mukherji, Aparna Sen

• General descriptors: Bengali cinema, Tollywood, psychiatry, psychological, neurodiversity

Search Period: Films released between 1950 and 2024

Inclusion criteria:

• Films in the Bengali language (or multilingual, including Bengali)

• Narrative films (fiction), excluding documentaries

• Explicit or implicit depiction of mental illness, psychological distress, or psychiatric care

Exclusion criteria:

• Films with only incidental or comedic references to mental illness without a substantive narrative focus

• Films inaccessible for review due to archival limitations

Additionally, hand searches were performed by reviewing:

• Festival catalogues (Kolkata International Film Festival archives)⁹

• Film reviews in popular periodicals (Anandabazar Patrika¹⁰, The Telegraph¹¹)

• Online synopses on platforms such as GetBengal¹² and Asian Movie Pulse¹³

Titles identified were cross-verified against secondary sources and viewed (where available) to confirm relevance.

CULTURAL AND HISTORICAL CONTEXT

The roots of Bengal’s sensitivity to mental health can be traced back to its rich literary tradition. From Rabindranath Tagore’s introspective characters to Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s and Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s complex protagonists grappling with inner turmoil, the Bengali ethos has always embraced emotional complexity and existential angst. Bengali cinema, an extension of this literary tradition, naturally inherited this introspective bent, often exploring psychological themes subtly within character arcs without explicit psychiatric framing during its “Golden Era” from the 1950s to the 1970s.^4,6

Satyajit Ray’s Charulata (1964) is a prime example, subtly encapsulating themes of emotional deprivation, profound ennui, and existential loneliness in its titular character, all highly relevant to contemporary psychiatry. Similarly, Aranyer Din Ratri (1970) explores repressed trauma and maladaptive coping mechanisms among urban male characters on a rural retreat, offering deep psychosocial insight long before terms like “depression” or “post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)” became colloquial. Beyond Ray, films like Deep Jele Jai (1959) directly addressed themes of depression, emotional trauma, and the process of institutionalization, even featuring elements of “pseudocounseling” within a psychiatric facility setting. Meghe Dhaka Tara (1960) powerfully depicted trauma, depression, and psychological breakdown within a narrative of socio-economic hardship. Devi (1960) by Satyajit Ray, even explores the psychological impacts of religious delusion.¹⁴

However, early portrayals were not devoid of problematic tropes. Characters with mental illness were often either pitied or pathologized to evoke melodrama. For instance, in Uttar Falguni (1963), the protagonist’s mother is labeled “insane” and institutionalized, though her behaviors likely represent post-traumatic stress rather than psychosis. The visual grammar often relied on exaggeration, conflating psychiatric illness with moral weakness, sin, or even divine punishment, mirroring the pervasive “moral model” of mental illness prevalent at the time. This period paralleled the “asylum-centric psychiatric care” in post-colonial India, where mental illness was frequently hidden, feared, or medicalized without adequate community integration or public understanding. The films Jiban Mrityu (1971) and Swayamsiddha (1975) also featured themes of psychosis and unspecified mental illness, respectively, further illustrating the early engagement with these conditions, albeit with varying degrees of specificity and accuracy.^15,16

TRANSITION NARRATIVES: FROM PATHOS TO PSYCHOLOGY

The 1990s brought significant economic liberalization to India, which coincided with a parallel loosening of narrative restraints in Bengali cinema. This era marked a discernible shift towards more complex and psychologically intricate storytelling. Films like Unishe April (1994), directed by Rituparno Ghosh, broke away from reductionist binaries and overt pathologizing. Ghosh’s oeuvre in particular meticulously dissected grief, relational conflict, and identity with startling psychodynamic sensitivity and depth. While his characters were rarely labeled as “mentally ill” in a diagnostic sense, their inner conflicts and invisible psychological burdens profoundly paralleled presentations commonly observed in outpatient psychiatric practice.¹⁷

This period also saw the nascent depiction of psychotherapy on screen, though not always with clinical accuracy. In films like Dahan (1997) and Titli (2002), therapy was alluded to, signifying a growing, albeit tentative, acknowledgment of mental health support. However, a persistent trope began to emerge: mental health professionals were typically one-dimensional, often portrayed as distant, cold, or sage-like, hardly representative of the nuanced therapeutic alliance or the complexities of real-world psychiatric practice. This portrayal of the psychiatrist often remained a marginal, impersonal figure—a trope that, unfortunately, still endures.^18,19

CONTEMPORARY CINEMA: NUANCE AMID NOISE

From the 2010s onward, Bengali cinema has diversified its mental health narratives, engaging more directly and often with greater empathy with psychiatric themes. Films like Kaushik Ganguly’s Nagarkirtan (2017) have garnered critical acclaim for their sensitive portrayal of gender dysphoria and its intersection with mental health vulnerabilities like suicidality, echoing DSM-5’s more inclusive framing of gender identity. Mayurakshi (2017) by Atanu Ghosh is particularly notable for its depiction of dementia with rare subtlety. The film illustrates the lead character’s gradual cognitive decline alongside the profound caregiver burden experienced by his son, a poignant reflection of the growing geriatric mental health crisis in India and an often-neglected domain in Indian psychiatry. Jonaki (2018) further explores themes of dementia and disoriented memory, indicating a growing cinematic interest in age-related cognitive decline.²⁰

However, sensationalism regrettably lingers. Films like Bhoot Chaturdashi (2019), although marketed as horror, dangerously conflate mental illness—specifically psychosis and delusional beliefs—with supernatural possession, thereby reinforcing age-old stigmas and undermining scientific understanding of mental health. Such portrayals, though commercially viable, perpetuate dangerous myths and alienate the mentally ill from social compassion. Similarly, Debi (2018) blends paranormal themes with psychosis and dissociation, highlighting the continued challenge of separating folklore from clinical reality in cinematic depictions.⁷

The advent of over-the-top (OTT) platforms has further altered the landscape, allowing for more expansive and psychologically layered storytelling. Films released on these platforms, such as Tithir Oshukh (2021) and Bed No. 3 (2023), tackle contemporary issues like pandemic-related mental strain, childhood trauma (with implied schizophrenia), and professional burnout, often with more room for character development and psychological realism due to the longer narrative format. Kalkokkho (2021) showcases separation, isolation, and mental stress due to the pandemic. This shift offers an opportunity for more nuanced and diagnostically accurate representations of mental health.²¹

THE MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL ON SCREEN: A SIDELINED HEALER

In Bengali cinema, the portrayal of the psychiatrist character is often problematic: they are either conspicuously absent, relegated to a peripheral role, or reduced to a caricature. In Hemlock Society (2012), for instance, the psychologist acts more like a motivational speaker offering guidance on suicide prevention rather than a clinician engaged in the complexities of therapeutic alliance or diagnostic processes. When psychiatrists do appear, they are frequently depicted as ineffectual, eccentric, or emotionless—a far cry from real-life, multidisciplinary mental health practitioners who engage deeply with their patients. Few films genuinely capture the detailed nature of psychiatric diagnosis, the nuanced dynamic between patient and therapist, or the challenging, prolonged journey toward healing.^7,22

This consistent absence or superficiality of the psychiatrist character may reflect deeper societal discomfort with seeking psychiatric help. A 2016 National Mental Health Survey of India indicated a staggering mental health treatment gap of over 80%. Cinema, instead of playing a role in normalizing psychiatric care and destigmatizing professionals, often inadvertently reinforces this societal invisibility or perceived ineptitude of mental health practitioners. As in real life, psychiatry in Bengali cinema is often “consulted late, depicted poorly, and dropped quickly” from the narrative, further solidifying its marginal status in public consciousness.^7,23

RECURRING THEMES AND DISORDERS

An analysis of the thematic landscape of mental health in Bengali cinema from the 1950s to the 2020s reveals several recurring motifs and diagnostic clusters, as highlighted by a systematic review of film titles. Refer to Table 1 and Figure 1.^8,24,25

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Figure 1:

Heatmap of representation of mental health themes in Bengali cinema by decade (Source: IMDb & Wikipedia | Image Generated by ChatGPT). The different colors represent number of movies (color-gradient bar). IMDb: Internet movie database, PTSD: Post-traumatic stress disorder.

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PUBLIC PERCEPTION AND IMPACT

Media psychology posits that repeated exposure to negative or inaccurate depictions of mental illness fosters stigma, fear, and social distancing. Conversely, films that humanize suffering and depict recovery can significantly enhance mental health literacy and reduce prejudice. The sociocultural impact of Bengali cinema on mental health awareness is thus undeniably bidirectional.^46,47

While films like Nagarkirtan (2017) and Mayurakshi (2017) offer hope by sensitively portraying mental health conditions, thereby deepening empathy and contributing to destigmatization, many Bengali films still anchor mental illness predominantly in tragedy or horror. The viewer might learn empathy for the suffering character, but often gains little understanding of the possibilities for management or recovery. There is notably little cinematic space dedicated to psychopharmacology, various forms of psychotherapy, or the role of community psychiatry.⁴⁸

Given the significant “mental health treatment gap in India” (estimated at over 80%), the role of mass media, particularly cinema, in destigmatization cannot be overstated. Films offer a low-threshold, high-reach medium to normalize mental health discussions, provided they prioritize accuracy and ethical representation over dramatic expediency or commercial sensationalism. Films have the power to shape public dialogue, influence policy, and encourage help-seeking behaviors, making a responsible and informed portrayal paramount for a society confronting a significant mental health burden.^27,49

RECOMMENDATIONS FOR PSYCHIATRISTS AND FILMMAKERS

To enhance the accuracy, sensitivity, and positive impact of mental health portrayals in Bengali cinema, several collaborative strategies are recommended:

CONCLUSION

Bengali cinema, with its deeply humanistic roots and rich narrative tradition, offers both immense promise and inherent pitfalls in the representation of mental health. It has portrayed suffering with poetic depth and cultural resonance, yet it has often failed to provide resolution or clinical realism. From the subtle psychological explorations of the Golden Era to the more explicit and diverse portrayals in contemporary films and on OTT platforms, the journey has been one of evolving understanding. While films like Mayurakshi and Nagarkirtan represent significant strides towards empathy, accuracy, and neurodiversity, the persistence of sensationalism and outdated stereotypes underscores the continuous need for vigilance and advocacy.

While this review primarily focuses on Bengali-language films produced in West Bengal, it is important to recognize that Bangladeshi cinema (“Dhallywood”) has also significantly contributed to the portrayal of mental health themes, especially in recent decades, as seen in films such as Matir Moina, 2002 (childhood trauma), Third Person Singular Number, 2009 (social stigma and anxiety), and Television, 2012 (psychological impact of cultural change). Other notable mentions in this context are Shuva (2006), Ostitto (2016), No Bed of Roses (Doob) (2017), Debi (2018), and Raat Jaga Phool (2021). These narratives reflect the shared yet distinct psychosocial preoccupations across Bengal’s cinematic landscape. Comparative studies encompassing both film industries would offer a richer understanding of cultural variations and commonalities in the cinematic discourse on mental illness. Future research could further expand this exploration by including Bangladeshi Bengali cinema, which presents an equally rich and evolving narrative landscape around mental health.

As India confronts a growing mental health crisis, cinema—arguably the region’s most powerful storytelling tool—must evolve from chronicler to catalyst. Integrating psychiatric accuracy into cinematic artistry is not merely possible; it is essential. By fostering closer collaboration between filmmakers and mental health professionals, Bengali cinema can transcend its role as a mere mirror or projector, becoming a powerful force for destigmatization, increased mental health literacy, and ultimately, a more compassionate and understanding society where mental health is openly discussed and effectively addressed.