It’s always good to return to Phulera, the fictional village which houses the simple folk of Panchayat. It’s akin to going to your hometown and meeting an old friend. Frequenting the same spots, cracking up at the same jokes. The charm of Phulera hasn’t dimmed. It is still serene and calming to sit back, relax and get back into its world. Familiarity is comfort. It’s just that soon you realise that this old friend might be repeating their stories, reiterating their perspective on life you have heard multiple times before. And even though internally you are sighing, you can’t help but smile and nod along. They haven’t changed since you left and that’s not always a good thing.
Directors: Deepak Kumar Mishra and Akshat Vijayvargiya
Writer: Chandan Kumar
Cast: Jitendra Kumar, Raghuvir Yadav, Neena Gupta, Chandan Roy, Faisal Malik, Sunita Rajwar, Durgesh Kumar and Sanvikaa
Although the villagers have their mufflers and monkeycaps on, Phulera is metaphorically simmering in election heat. It’s a head-on between Manju devi (Neena Gupta) and Kranti devi (the impressive Sunita Rajwar). Sachiv ji Abhishek (Jitendra Kumar), assistant secretary Vikas (Chandan Roy) and Prahlad (Faisal Malik) are busy with poll campaigning, while Pradhan ji (Raghubir Yadav) is nursing a gunshot wound which he suffered at the climax of the previous season. The trio of Bhushan aka Banrakas (Durgesh Kumar), Binod (Ashok Pathak) and Madhav ( Bulloo Kumar) are both scheming and coming up with campaign schemes. Every episode is a one-up competition between Pradhan and Banrakas’s factions. They can be seen tussling over samosas as freebies, toilets to clean and electricity generators. Through inconsequential shenanigans, writer Chandan Kumar and directors Deepak Kumar Mishra and Akshat Vijayvargiya attempt to showcase a village as a microcosm of the democratic process. The satire, however, has gone stale. Laugh out loud moments are few and far between and character arcs are more of straight lines. Like every good art, without any fresh input, the show is becoming a parody of itself.
Take, for instance, the protagonist Abhishek. His existential dread, which was touched upon in the previous seasons, is sidelined. For most of the fourth season, he is only awaiting the result of his MBA entrance. Be it Vikas or Prahlad, characters internal lives seem to be going around in circles. The election wave has swept away the possibility of little nuances and meditative silences. Panchayat becomes more jokey, more macro, only conveying that the dance of democracy is just a bunch of janky moves.
The series has now become a regular hangout spot which offers no new vision. There are a few additions, though, like the quirky casting of lyricist Swanand Kirkire as the MP, which are enjoyable, but only briefly. Sunita Rajwar is electrifying as Kranti Devi. Her performance is the sole one which pops out this season. You can’t help but hate her whenever she turns up on screen.
Panchayat, when it started, carved its own niche amidst an OTT space inundated with crime thrillers and heavy dramas. It offered a slow-paced, low-stakes narrative, which felt soothingly fresh. Now, these same strengths it is using as formula. The quirks are becoming predictable, as is the narrative. Organic storytelling is turning into a packaged item. Prime Video already houses byproducts like Gram Chikitsalay (2025) and Dupahiya (2025). The Phulera-isms are becoming overbearing, the essence is losing out. Sometimes it’s better to burn out than to fade away.
from Hindi https://ift.tt/a3qyGiv
via IFTTT
