Sanjay Leela Bhansali is the representative of India Baz Luhrmann version a filmmaker regarded for the opulence of his period dramas. Of Devdas to Bajirao Mastani to Gangubai Kathiawadi, the Indian director likes not only stories set in pre-independence India, but also the lower-class courtesans who populate them. Bhansali’s Netflix India Series Heeramandi: The diamond bazaar continues in this format.
HEERAMANDI: THE DIAMONDS BAZAAR: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
Initial shot: In a lush outdoor room, a woman lies on a bed with a small baby curled up next to her. Another woman approaches and takes the child, giving him to a man in exchange for a bag of jewels.
The essence: In pre-independence India, nawabs (nobles of the time) openly spent time with courtesans who exerted significant control over their wealthy peers. At Heeramandi, a collective of courtesans, Mallikajaan (Manisha Koirala) rules the group with a harshness that stems from the anguish of having her child stolen and sold years earlier.
The time has come for Mallikajaan’s daughter Alamzeb (Sharmin Segal) to make her debut and start sprucing up to eventually take over one day, but Alamzeb would rather become a poet than dance for money. The beginnings of India’s revolutionary movement against the British are the backdrop for the series. Alamzeb secretly meets and begins flirting with a rich nawab who does not yet know her identity and is an active rebel who sympathizes with the revolution, an unpopular stance in the upper echelons of society. As Alamzeb’s protests intensify, Mallikajaan’s government is threatened by an outsider with deep ties to her past.
What shows will it remind you of? The series, which deals with period constructions and elaborate sets, recalls almost all the important Bhansali characteristics that preceded it.
Our opinion: If there is one thing that Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s productions stand out for, it is their talent for period opulence and extravagant costumes. It cannot be denied that each painting of Heeramandi is beautiful to look at, and the few dance numbers in the first episode are reminiscent of pieces from Bhansali’s earlier films like Devdas and Bajirao Mastani. The colors, jewels and cinematography are truly a pleasure to behold.
But unfortunately the Netflix series stumbles when it comes to telling a coherent story in its first premiere. With a pilot who runs a full hour, Heeramandi it fails to establish its central conflict (the menacing force against Mallikajaan, Sonakshi Sinha’s Fareedan, a highlight, doesn’t really arrive until the show’s second hour). Without that electricity between Sinha and Koirala, the first episode is nothing more than a familiar conflict of Indian cinema: the clash between parental expectations and following your heart as Mallikajaan forbids Alamzeb from reading poetry and moves towards her tawaif debut.
Bhansali is a film director through and through, and it is clear that Heeramandi It is his first foray into television. The pacing of the episodes is erratic and the conclusions of the episodes come quite abruptly. Heeramandi leans into its Bollywood roots, dishing out melodrama in every line reading and furtive glance. The melodrama extends to the series’ central love story between Alamzeb and his secret nawab Tajdar, but their chemistry doesn’t deepen beyond a clear mutual attraction and the naivety gets old quickly.
In its first hour, there are multiple sexualized moments that are delivered in such an exaggerated manner that they lose all the nuances meant to enrich the character development and instead make the characters feel like a joke (like Waheeda, Mallikajaan’s sister whose facial scar originates). will be explained in future episodes and is reduced to a caricature hell-bent on embarrassing herself in front of a British officer when we first meet her). The grandiose, nonsensical performances are in soap opera territory and are more embarrassing than intriguing.
I applaud the creative team for taking some liberties in their storytelling, such as including an obviously queer character who gets an openly queer implied sex scene while being used as a pawn in the larger game between the revolutionaries and the British. Koirala enjoys playing an antagonist, even if her performance is too close to the Disney villain, and the themes the series aims to explore, such as class and caste in relation to loyalties in the Indian independence movement, are interesting. on the surface. .
But the script presented is ultimately too empty; There is a good story somewhere in the series that would have benefited from an editor. And unfortunately, there’s too much to see to have time to read an unfocused eight-hour series.
Sex and skin: Although the courtesans at the center of the story are understood to be both sexual partners of their nawabs and intellectual companions, Heeramandi: The diamond bazaar it doesn’t veer into explicit territory in its first episode.
Parting Shot: In the midst of the revolutionary protest turned violent by the British-controlled police, Tajdar finds Alamzeb’s handkerchief on the ground. Not knowing where her burgeoning love interest has run off to, he brings the napkin to his face.
Sleeping star: Aditi Rao Hydari as Bibbo toes the line between Wali Nawab’s dutiful courtesan and secret revolutionary, and her eyes convey the complications of pergent identities.
Most pilot line:: “Here in Heeramandi it is not the British who rule, but Mallikajaan,” says the group’s leader after a tense meeting with a British officer. Mallikajaan’s strange mastery over power is both his greatest gift and his worst curse.
Our call: SKIP IT. Unfortunately, the show’s story execution betrays its opulent production and costume design.
Radhika Menon (@menonrad) is a television-obsessed writer living in Los Angeles. His work has appeared in Vulture, Teen Vogue, ELLE.com and more. At any given moment, he can reflect long and hard on Friday Night Lights, the University of Michigan, and the perfect slice of pizza. You can call her Rad.
