At some level this is high kitsch, but surprisingly it ends up feeling rather more profound that you would expect, in its depiction of the cycle of life, love, death and sadness, relentlessly running over the ambitions, hopes, desires, and heartaches of helpless individuals. It could have used better acting though - none of the younger cast members look like they've had a single acting lesson between them. As a film about India, this is of course about as inauthentic as it's possible to get, but the depiction of Indian culture is respectful, if slightly naive. From a technical perspective the film is very beautiful but clearly old school even for 1951, with its intro addressing the viewer directly, off-screen narration filling in for character development, and anthropological commentary over the (gorgeous) Technicolor shots of rural life.
