Streaming: Renoir’s ‘The River’ an India without tigers

Like time, technological advancements keep rushing on, but nothing has ever really improved on the glory of well-deployed Technicolor. “The River,” Jean Renoir’s 1951 film, still looks better than any new release of the recent past.

It tells the simple story of a self-described ugly duckling, Harriet (Patricia Walters), who lives a comfortable life on a flower-lined verandah somewhere along the River Ganges with her mother (Nora Swinburne), father (Esmond Knight), a packet of younger sisters, a baby brother called Bogey, and the family rabbit. They’re overseen by the harried but wise housemaid Nan (Suprova Mukerjee).

The voiceover narrator (June Hillman) liltingly recites the prose from the Rumer Godden book on which the film is based: “As the River brought everything, it brought a young man on the weekly steamer...” This prize is a war-scarred vet called Captain John (Thomas E. Breen, a non-actor selected because he actually had his leg amputated after a battle injury).

Harriett doesn’t have John to herself though — there’s her lovely biracial neighbor Melanie (Radha Burnier) and the auburn-tressed friend from down the road, Valerie (Adrienne Corri). At first Captain John is a rather dour character until the flattering young women enliven him a bit. While she can’t sport an elaborate sari or rich-girl jodhpurs, Harriet is the only one who tries to ply the man with poetry.

Renoir gently accomplishes the goal he had for “The River” — making “a film about India without elephants and tiger hunts” — and it takes a spot in his pantheon of masterpieces. In addition to a gripping story, he includes many documentary-style passages showing the flow of trade along the river, with Indian men carrying enormous loads of jute on their back. Renoir also has a remarkable command of color — especially pink, orange and red — and pairs his palette perfectly with the bright musical accompaniment of M. A. Partha Sarathy’s score.

Renoir possesses a fabulous understanding of children’s minds, from Bogey’s almost primordial fascination with the a cobra that lives in the garden to Harriett having one of the best “birds and bees” conversation you’ll ever hear with her mother (after which Harriet turns pouty and says, “Now I know why Cleopatra killed herself”).

The film climaxes with an unforgettable ritual of mourning and rebirth that still resonates today. Renoir’s artistry influenced talents from Satyajit Ray, who worked on the film and soon began his legendary career as a director, to Wes Anderson, whose marigold-saturated film “The Darjeeling Limited” owes “The River” a great debt. Rarely has a G-rated film ever been more potent, with so much for viewers of all ages to enjoy.