Season 1 of TVF’s hit social comedy was released in 2020.

TVF seems to have the secret magic formula up their sleeve for making shows that feel like a warm hug. The third season of TVF’s social comedy series Panchayat, which launched in 2020, has that same feel-good feeling in it. The new season features beautiful writing, sensitive acting and, surprisingly, a more realistic portrayal of rural India, surpassing the already high bar that Panchayat set in its previous two seasons. It will make you smile, cry, laugh, think and probably Google the government’s Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojana!

What makes this season stand out is that the rose-tinted glasses have been removed this time. Though the protagonists still share a warm friendship, we discover their eventful personal stories, emotional baggage and crises, making room for a paradigm shift. Political conflicts intensify and their consequences become more threatening. To put it bluntly, the third season of Panchayat bursts some of the glossy bubbles of utopian illusions and hits home with some harsh reality.

Sanvikar’s story arc is getting more screen time compared to the previous seasons.

It sees Prahalad Chacha (Faisal Malik) turning to alcohol to cope with his grief, Vikas (Chandan Roy) silently enduring the horror of financial strain, Abhishek (Jitendra Kumar) trying to shake off his obvious love for Pullera and Brij Bhushan Dubey (Raghubir Yadav) humiliated by all his opponents on the political front and embroiled in domestic strife.

At various points in the season, you will sympathize with them all, but especially with Prahalad, who is devastated by the loss of his son. Something has changed inside him forever, and Malik’s brilliant performance embodies that loss. There is a scene in the third episode where he shows someone the horrible state of his house, full of mud, empty bottles and scattered dreams, to make them understand the importance of having a family, and the two of them shed tears in silence. The scene is delicately written and guaranteed to bring you to tears. In an equally exhilarating sequence, he provides a large amount of funding for the construction of a road in Pulera so that Pradhan can win the election and simply because “what would a man without purpose do with so much money?”

As the episode progressed, I was feeling nostalgic for the foursome’s “Baithak” sessions, when life seemed simpler over a few drinks. The emotional beats of the story make those few light-hearted yet substantial scenes more impactful than in the previous seasons. Through the characters’ relationships, the show made me think about friends I had unwillingly lost touch with.

This season sees more of the slowly brewing romance between Rinki (Sanvikar) and Abhishek. There’s plenty of eye talk, shy smiles, wordplay and awkwardness. Thankfully, both Jitendra and Sanvikar deliver stellar performances without relying on typical Bollywood melodrama, cheesy dialogue, violins and fluttering chiffon saris.

Apart from the expected great performances from the main cast, what really caught my attention was Abba Sharma as Jagmohan’s grandmother. Her performance is so tasteful and she feels fresh every time she appears on screen. From the spot-on accent to her playful facial expressions to her silly body language, Sharma nails her role and captures the essence of a quintessential Uttar Pradesh ‘Dadi’.

Over the course of the eight episodes, we meet a host of colorful characters, including a few familiar faces, such as the groom and his rambunctious friend from season one. Despite the many storylines, the series never feels overstuffed, with each episode unfolding in the show’s signature leisurely style.

The filmmakers did a fantastic job with the set design, props and costumes.

What I particularly liked was the production design of the setting. It is relatively rare for rural landscapes to be portrayed authentically in Indian films and television. The usual portrayals are often marred by a romanticized image of villages and are full of counterfactual content in the name of creative freedom. But Panchayat not only manages to do just that, it also surpasses the previous two seasons in its context. The showrunners have managed to narrow the huge gap between commercial and arthouse cinema. From real homes and everyday items to real local brands and festive snacks, Phulera’s portrayal is beyond impressive. It is clear that rigorous work has gone into faithfully portraying India’s hinterland.

If you watch the show carefully, you will also notice plenty of visual metaphors and gags – like when Pradhan loses control of his usually affable buffalo when he is accused, or Abhishek always spills the tea when things are about to get out of hand, or Vidhayak, who is accused of killing and eating a dog (yes, I know, gross!), casually keeps pictures and decorations of camels in his living room.

The best scene is when two enraged groups face off against each other, ready to take on the other with batons, guns and whatever else they can get their hands on. Officials try to calm the excited crowd. Just when things are about to explode, a phone ringing loudly with “Sarah Jahan Se Acha” interrupts the proceedings.

Bhushan is trying to capitalise on the animosity between Pradhan ji and Vidhayak this season.

I otherwise loved the show, but am a little worried by the slight change in tone of the series this time around, with a spotlight on boring political issues. We meet other elected members of the panchayat, there’s lots of election banter, official meetings, etc. Even Uttar Pradesh’s notorious gun culture is touched upon.

The change is not very dramatic and does not cloud the storyline, but as the cliffhanger of the final episode suggests, more political drama may come to the fore in future seasons. Hopefully, even if the show does take on a political overtone, it will not compromise on its raw emotional appeal and sincere portrayal of nuanced human relationships (what Panchayat has done best since its inception).

All eight episodes of Panchayat are currently streaming on Prime Video.

The post Panchayat Season 3 Review: Still entertaining but now more politically charged appeared first on Review Products.

The show is set in Mumbai in 2013, a time when Article 377 of the Constitution was still in force and homosexuality was a criminal offence.

Based on Jerry Pinto’s novel of the same name, GeoCinema’s new original series, Murder at Maahim, is a crime thriller that revolves around the brutal murder of a gay prostitute in a public toilet at Mumbai’s Maahim station. Starring popular characters Vijay Raaz and Ashutosh Rana, the series blends a traditional crime thriller narrative with social commentary, placing their performances at the heart of the unfolding investigation.

Over the course of eight episodes, a police inspector played by Raaz and a former journalist (now estranged friend) played by Rana each try to solve this gruesome case in their own way. Their investigation takes us to gay clubs, queer parties, gatherings and, by night, the forbidden back alleys of Mumbai, where the bleak and terrifying world of gay prostitution unfolds. The series delves deep into the lives of sex workers, portraying their plight and tenacity in stark detail.

While “Murder in Mahim” may seem a bit forced and predictable at the outset, with its mundane plot, familiar loopholes and heavy-handed social commentary, it soon develops into a must-see piece of art with strong performances. If you are patient enough with the series, at least until the third episode, you will enjoy the pleasure of a film that tackles complex themes with ease.

Shivaji Satam in a still from ‘Murder in Mahim’

The show exposes the many layers of homophobia and abuse, from nasty name-calling and bigoted cruelty to honey-trap crimes where threatened queer people have nowhere to turn for help, including the police. Murder in Mahim explores the impact of homophobia across social classes. From penniless queers being forced into prostitution to people in positions of power fearing people from coming out, the series takes a broad look at the concerns of the LGBTQ community. The portrayal of queer life is also done in a natural tone and doesn’t feel forced, overly dramatic or pompous.

In one scene, two lesbian lovers in a room panic when their parents, who are not yet aware of their sexual orientation, arrive unexpectedly. The reactions of all the characters are thankfully understated and innocent, normalizing queer life.

But Murder in Mahim does try to play it safe in a few scenes, especially when Peter Fernandes (played by Rana) and his wife are worried that their son might be gay. With no idea what the “cure” for this “symptom” is, the couple at some points give the impression of being textbooks of what’s wrong with parents of a queer child, only to later grow up thinking this is what an ideal parent should be like.

But the show is not just about homosexuality. Murder in Mahim also deftly tackles the conflicts and complexities of father-son relationships. What a beautiful portrayal. It is very rare for the Indian film and television industry to take up this theme and do it justice. Be it the estranged relationship between Siva, played by Vijay Raaz, and his difficult father, played by Sivaji Satam (best known for playing ACP Pradyuman in the CID), or the gradually estranged relationship between Siva and his teenage son , the show handles relationships with tenderness. Many scenes in the latter half of the show brought a smile to my face, some of which reminded me of the hilarious relationship between the dour father played by Amitabh Bachchan and his headstrong daughter played by Deepika Padukone in Piku.

One scene that will probably stay with me for a long time is when a young police officer finds pornographic magazines in his teenage son. One would expect a reprimand to follow, but the comical character wisely handles the situation without sending his son into the depths of guilt and shame. It is a simple yet powerful scene that depicts an unspeakable tenderness between father and son.

Vijay Raaz and Shivani Raghuvanshi in stills from ‘Murder in Mahim’

“Murder in Mahim” also takes a satirical stance against the sensationalist media and indifferent police authorities, who conveniently distort facts, chew over “great news stories” and “official statements” without reliable sources, and add fuel to the already burning flames of homophobia. In one scene, the media accuses an old man of being a pedophile and homophobic monster on weak evidence. As the media interrogations pile up, the characters helplessly stare at angry protesters outside their house. This fictional scene is not far from the truth and highlights several similar real-life cases where reporters conveniently ignored ethics for the sake of clicks and views.

Though Murder in Mahim has many tense scenes capturing the nuances of human psychology and emotions, the makers have struck a perfect balance by frequently including comedy elements to ease the tension. This is often necessary for films and shows with tough social messages to appeal to a mass audience who would otherwise not be willing or even able to watch select critically acclaimed films. The makers have made a decent attempt at conveying a complex and important issue in an easy to understand and accessible manner without sacrificing the complexity of the subject at hand.

“Murder in Mahim” starts off a bit dull in the first few episodes, but slowly but surely the series shines thanks to a compelling storyline, strong acting and stunning cinematography.

The post Murder in Mahim Review: JioCinema Original Explores Homophobia Through Crime Drama appeared first on Review Products.