“There are several things that make Pratidwandi a great film. Perhaps chief among them is the way Ray handles the character of his protagonist. Frustrated beyond measure, and still keeping his sanity, his ethics and his decorum intact, Siddhartha is a man caught between a family that he cares for but cannot relate to anymore, a girl who is romantically interested in him but cannot commit to him because of her own problems, and a city that seems hell bent upon shoving him down to the ground every time he tries to stand up on his feet.
In a beautiful scene towards the beginning of the film, as he finds a bit of shade under a folly in a park and sits down for a moment of relaxation — exhausted and defeated from one more unsuccessful job interview — a bunch of hippies reach the spot, dancing and swaying under the influence of drugs and alcohol, having a good time, admiring the holy cows of India and the green trees and generally saying things which make absolutely no sense at all. Siddhartha watches them for some time, wondering what a happily oblivious state they were living in, and how their apparently silly behaviour could be justified only by the peace in their minds. Perplexing, as it is, he seems to find this peace in the minds of everyone around him — as if everyone is happily going about their own lives, and here he was, running from pillar to post, unable to find acceptance anywhere.
Without a shred of doubt, the two greatest characters in Pratidwandi are the two adversaries — Siddhartha and the city of Kolkata. Dhritiman Chatterji plays the calm, reserved, reticent young man who is barely holding it together, and he does it with such finesse that you can feel the tension building with each passing scene. The way Chatterji holds a frame is stuff younger actors of our generation can only dream of. His body language, his slight stoop, his impeccable diction, his expressions — everything brings Siddhartha alive on screen. In one of his essays titled ‘An Indian New Wave?’, Ray proposed his own definition of a film star — “A star is a person on the screen who continues to be expressive and interesting even after he or she has stopped doing anything” — and he went on to name Dhritiman Chatterji as an example of a true film star. And you can see what he meant when you see Siddhartha Chaudhuri in Pratidwandi. Throughout the film, even as he battles on tirelessly, even with all the rejections he faces, and despite the bitter sense of insecurity looming large, Siddhartha can’t help but recall the call of an unknown bird he had heard when he was a child. What an absolutely beautiful thought!
But at the end of the war between a vast city and a puny foot soldier, the inevitable happens. It is Siddhartha who finally accepts defeat. He crumbles under pressure and his patience gives away. He is forced to leave the city and take up a job in a small town. In one of the most beautiful ending scenes ever captured on film, Siddhartha finally finds peace in the most unexpected way, and accepts his fate.”