Quote of the Day by Satyajit Ray: ‘Great works of art are way beyond the reach of…’

"Thankfully, great works of art are way beyond the reach of critics."

— Satyajit Ray

There is something quietly confident about this line. Ray did not write it in anger or bitterness. He wrote it as a simple observation — a statement of fact from a man who had spent decades making films that critics sometimes misunderstood, occasionally dismissed, and yet could never diminish.

The Relevance of This Quote

What he meant was this: a truly great work does not depend on whether a critic approves of it. It lives on its own terms. It finds its audience. It endures. Critics can shape conversations and influence box office numbers, but they cannot reach into a piece of art and alter what makes it powerful. That part is untouchable.

The relevance of this quote goes well beyond cinema. In any creative field — writing, music, painting — there will always be voices that question, reject, or undervalue a work. Ray's words are a reminder that great art has a life of its own. It outlasts the review. It outlasts the reviewer.

The Man Behind the Words

Satyajit Ray was born on 2nd May 1921 in Calcutta into a family steeped in literature and art. He started his working life as a graphic designer, but his encounter with French filmmaker Jean Renoir and his viewing of the Italian film Bicycle Thieves in 1950 changed the course of his life. He made his directorial debut in 1955 with Pather Panchali and went on to direct 36 films, comprising 29 feature films, five documentaries, and two short films.

His first feature won acclaim at international festivals and marked the beginning of the Apu Trilogy, which includes Aparajito (1956) and Apur Sansar (1959) — films that offered richly detailed narratives and captured life in Bengal with a level of emotional honesty that was groundbreaking for Indian cinema.

He was not merely a director. Ray served as writer, producer, director, cameraman, composer, and even calligrapher of opening credits for many of his films. He did not just make movies. He authored them, completely and entirely, in a way that very few filmmakers in history have managed.

Less than a month before his passing in April 1992, Ray received an Honorary Oscar. The Academy's citation read: "To Satyajit Ray, in recognition of his rare mastery of the art of motion pictures, and of his profound humanitarian outlook, which has had an indelible influence on filmmakers and audiences throughout the world."

A Name That Travelled the World

Ray never made a Hollywood film. He turned down every offer and stayed in Calcutta, rooted in the stories he knew best. And yet, somehow, the world came to him.

George Lucas discovered Ray's films as a film student and considered his work an important part of his education as a director. He later reflected that Ray "has had a profound influence on filmmakers and audiences throughout the world."

Francis Ford Coppola considered Ray's film Devi to be a "cinematic milestone" and has publicly recalled the phone call during which Ray praised The Godfather and complimented the performances of Al Pacino and Marlon Brando.

Japanese master Akira Kurosawa, himself one of the greatest directors who ever lived, put it in terms that have never been bettered: "Not to have seen the cinema of Ray means existing in the world without seeing the sun or the moon."

Meryl Streep, speaking about Ray's sensitive portrayal of women on screen, said: "I have not an iota of doubt that if Ray worked in Hollywood, he would have proved a tough competition for the likes of Sir David Lean, Francis Ford Coppola and Sir Alan Parker."

In 2024, Forbes included Ray in its list of the 30 Greatest Film Directors of All Time, ranking him eighth — ahead of Federico Fellini and Orson Welles — noting his influence on directors including Akira Kurosawa, Francis Ford Coppola, and Christopher Nolan.

Closer to home, his influence has shaped filmmakers including Wes Anderson, Martin Scorsese, James Ivory, François Truffaut, and Christopher Nolan. In India, his quiet, humanist way of telling stories opened the door for generations of filmmakers who wanted to say something real rather than something loud.

Ray passed away on 23rd April 1992. But his words — much like his films — remain well beyond the reach of anyone who might wish to diminish them. Sonnet 4.6