Aamar Boss

When I walked into the theatre to watch Amar Boss, I expected a typical Bengali workplace drama - perhaps some office politics, a charismatic leader, and a bit of humour. What I got instead was an unexpectedly touching journey that blurred the lines between the professional and the deeply personal, making me reflect on the nature of leadership, loyalty, and love in everyday life.

From the very first scene, I was drawn in by the quiet power of the narrative. The story revolves around our boss - not the conventional tyrant or the eccentric genius - but someone far more complex. Mr. Sen (whom we lovingly call "Boss") is a man of few words but endless integrity. Through the eyes of his junior colleague and narrator, we are invited into a seemingly ordinary office where extraordinary bonds are formed under the surface of daily deadlines and deliverables.

What struck me most was how real everything felt. The characters weren't idealised; they were flawed, vulnerable, and deeply human. The protagonist - the narrator - reminded me so much of myself in my early working years: unsure, eager to please, constantly trying to decode the enigma that was the Boss. And yet, as the story unfolded, I found myself understanding the Boss not just through his actions, but through the silences he left behind. His quiet care, his protective instincts, the way he bore the weight of his team's burdens without asking for acknowledgment - these were the marks of true leadership.

There's a turning point in the film - I won't give away too much - when the Boss's personal life starts to seep into the professional sphere. That moment shattered me. It reminded me that the people we work with are not just designations or departments; they carry entire worlds within them. The way the team, especially the narrator, responds to this crisis is one of the most moving portrayals of collective empathy I've seen in Bengali cinema in recent years.

Visually, the film is understated but effective. The cinematography avoids dramatics and instead relies on tight frames and subtle lighting to echo the emotional tone of each scene. The music is minimal, allowing silences to speak - and they speak volumes. The performances are uniformly strong, with the actor playing the Boss delivering a masterclass in restraint. His eyes, in particular, do most of the talking - often revealing sorrow, pride, or affection that words would've cheapened.

What truly lingers with me is the way Amar Boss celebrates the unsung - those who lead without loud declarations, those who nurture rather than command. The final scenes had me teary-eyed, not because they were tragic, but because they were filled with a quiet dignity that's all too rare in our chaotic world. It made me think of people in my own life - teachers, mentors, even older colleagues - who shaped me in ways I only realised much later.

Walking out of the theatre, I felt strangely full - not just entertained, but seen. Amar Boss isn't just a film; it's a tribute to the silent strength that holds teams, families, and societies together. And in telling that story, it reminded me why I fell in love with cinema in the first place.

The plot is the major standout for me... Execution was average, songs are okay, characters are well fleshed out, however some leave more to be desired, especially the parents of the employees. Wont spoil many things, but its worth watching. Actors are good, there is definitely a passion behind this project. Shiboprosad really spoiled us bad with previous instalments like Kontho or Bohurupi. This one definitely pales in comparison, most of the jokes are off for me. But i cant argue with anyone loving Amar Boss. Its a well thought out movie, where im not sure how, but could have been better for me.

Aamar Boss film-it's a soft nudge at our hardened lives. In our materialistic life where workplace and home feel like two opposite things, this film is trying to build a bridge between these two things. Shiboprosad Mukherjee and Nandita Roy beautifully capture the invisible thread between duty and emotion. Rakhee Gulzar's return adds vintage gravitas, and the bonding between these two leading characters are amazingly beautiful. The office scenes strike a rare balance between satire and sincerity. By the end, you keep thinking-who the real boss is actually??A rare, reflective piece of cinema. A must watch film.

Aamar Boss (2025), directed by the acclaimed duo Shiboprosad Mukherjee and Nandita Roy, is a heartfelt slice-of-life drama that delicately weaves themes of generational gaps, emotional voids, and corporate disconnection. Set within the seemingly mundane walls of a Kolkata publishing house, the film blossoms into something deeply moving and universally relatable.

The story centers around Animesh, a 40-year-old publisher (played by Shiboprosad Mukherjee), who leads a life marked by emotional distance-from both his estranged wife and the weight of domestic obligations. His mother, Shubhra Goswami, portrayed with remarkable grace by Raakhee Gulzar, is a retired nurse recovering from major heart surgery. Restless at home and eager to feel useful again, Shubhra decides to join her son's office as an intern-an unorthodox decision that stirs up not just the rhythms of the workplace, but the emotional fabric of the people in it.

As expected from Windows Production, the film doesn't just tell a story-it delivers a message. Aamar Boss nudges both corporate entities and modern families to reassess what they value: productivity over presence, ambition over affection. The screenplay is warm, sharp, and laced with subtle humor and insight.

The ensemble cast, including Srabanti Chatterjee, Sauraseni Maitra, and Bhaskar Banerjee, contributes uniformly excellent performances. The direction is precise yet compassionate, and the editing by Moloy Laha keeps the narrative flowing smoothly. Indranath Marick's cinematography captures both the intimacy of home and the sterility of office life with equal finesse, while the music adds a quietly stirring emotional layer throughout.

Rating: 10/10 Aamar Boss is more than a film-it's a soft-spoken yet powerful reflection on ageing, relevance, and rediscovering purpose. A must-watch for every generation.

While watching Aamar Boss with my family specially my mom ,I feel like i am watching my own life play out on screen-during work we got phone calls from home for some reasons, plus in corporate world we have tremendous work pressure. Gradually we forget to live our live..If I talk about the film then Rakhee Gulzar's is the soul of the film, reminding us that even the most structured spaces need emotional anchors. We will get nostalgia, realism, and a quiet rebellion in her presence. Shiboprosad's Mukherjee is brulliant in his character-flawed yet relatable. This is not just a film it is more than that..