Shayok Misha Chowdhury – who wrote and directs the semi-autobiographical, bilingual Public Obscenities – uses a leisurely approach while telling the story of returning from the United States to his deceased grandfather’s South Kolkata home near India’s middle eastern border.
Actually, it’s Chowdhury stand-in Choton (Abrar Haque) who’s visiting aunt Pishimoni (Gargi Mukherjee), uncle Pishe (Debashis Roy Chowdhury) and household helper Jitesh (Golam Sarwar Harun). He’s there to reunite with them as well as to carry out a PhD project with the help of African-American boyfriend Raheem (Jakeem Dante Powell), a cameraman.
As the two-act work lopes along, there’s much to be said for its depiction of a patch of land where time seems to pass at a different rate than faster-paced regions half-way around the world. The inhabitants, though, experience the same impulses and emotional needs humans have felt since time immemorial.
As Choton goes about reconnecting with his relatives – under their shabby two-story roof and under the stern eyes of a patriarchal grandfather staring down from a photograph hanging on a high wall – playwright Chowdhury skillfully questions the true nature of public obscenity with impressively wise results.
Okay, what is the pressing project Choton is exploring? He’s videoing South Kolkata homosexuals on their experiences with the India division of gay hook-up website Grindr. (Granted, an unusually specific PhD subject.) He’s carrying out the academic task with Raheem operating a camera that belonged to Choton’s grandfather, a camera that happens to contain – as an extra plot twist – a roll of unexposed film.
In videoed sequences Choton interviews pleasant non-binary Shou (Tashnuva Anan) and the more acerbic cross-dressing Sebani (NaFis), but much as Choton works at the self-imposed assignment, it’s in the confines of his grandfather’s house (Peiyi Wong is the designer) where Chowdhury gets deeper into the weeds of behaviors that, if they were acted on publicly, would more than likely be considered obscene.
In an early sequence, Choton is in bed with Raheem under mosquito netting. Unable to sleep, he checks Gringr for potential interviewees but shortly becomes sufficiently aroused to masturbate. In a later scene, Choton admits to Raheem that his foreskin is uncomfortably tight, which prompts Raheem to adjust it so that Choton – standing and facing upstage – can more pleasurably enjoy fellatio.
Yes, these acts transpire and might even be accused by observers as being publicly obscene. Quite the opposite. With Public Obscenities Chowdhury is redefining what constitutes public and private obscenity. He sees to it that these ordinarily sub rosa events come across as entirely natural. In an impressive achievement, he registers the activities as no more than expressions of human instincts. Rather, it’s shame that should be deemed the abnormal response.
Chowdhury makes the point again when more than once Pishe is glimpsed in his room holding a teasingly provocative online conversation with a woman in Minnesota. The playwright is not so much condoning the activity as acknowledging that secret lives are another commonplace, whether or not in their secrecy they’re potentially harmful.
Public Obscenities is conducted in English and Bangla (the Bengali language, with subtitles), which also comes across as another natural manifestation at a household where English as a second language is a norm. The family byplay is warm, tender while including the tensions, misunderstandings and embarrassments that attach to typical family life.
Perhaps the most unsettling Public Obscenities occurrence is Jitesh’s catching Choton and Raheem at what suddenly turns an intimate moment between two partners into an unintended public display. Raheem’s abashed reaction is notably real in the context.
It may be to the playwright’s possibly auxiliary point that these sequences presented on stage be interpreted as engaging the audience in voyeurism, voyeurism offered as another form of public obscenity. By any chance, is this a joke from Chowdhury? If so, it’s a good one.
While Public Obscenities ambles along, the drama is decidedly rewarding but sometimes so relaxed it all but becomes lackadaisical. The bold work chatters on at nearly three hours, threatening to send ticket buyers to dreamland well before curtain. Too many of the scenes stretch way beyond their welcome.
Attention is paid to grandfather’s film and its being developed, but what they eventually show is discussed, not revealed. Does Chowdhury intend this to remain a mysterious tease? If so, why? The exchanges between Choton and Shou don’t build to a dramatically explained purpose but remain merely nice. One computer episode between Pishe masquerading as K_gang and the unseen minnesota76 is more than enough.
The undermining problem lies squarely with Chowdhury as both writer and director, a double deal that few pull off successfully. Chowdhury has said that while directing – he does undeniably well with his cast – he spots script changes and corrections he can subsequently revise.
He’s said that were he to “freeze” a work, it’s then he might look for another director. With the often inspired but too often trying Public Obscenities, he may do better to find a way to freeze the play (a tough-minded dramaturg could be the solution) and then pass it on to a director with a welcome objective view.
Public Obscenities opened January 24, 2024, at the Polonsky Shakespeare Center and runs through February 18. Tickets and information: tfana.org
