Review of ‘Jee Karda’ series: Tamannaah Bhatia’s brilliant anchoring

Tamannaah Bhatia in a scene from ‘Jee Karda’

my heart wants The third series is presented by Dinesh Vijan’s Maddock Films. Dramatically speaking, Banner is one of our most flamboyant guys—he was the first mover in zombie comedies (go Goa Gone), education satire (not moderate) and horror-comedy (Street) in India. But their progress in the streaming field has been pitifully slow. of 2021 chutzpah, with its frantic social media buzz, felt like a response to a dozen youth-oriented shows on YouTube. got my hopes up with Saas, Bahu Aur FlamingoA drug show brimming with wit and eccentricity from director Homi Adajania. my heart wants Occupies a strange middle ground: jagged and sporadically involving emotions, yet packaged in the same gloriously algorithmic mold that is becoming the hallmark of Indian streaming shows.

The series focuses on seven childhood friends who stumble through adulthood. Rishabh (Suhel Nayyar) proposes to his girlfriend of 12 years, Lavanya (Tamannah Bhatia). Their parents meet and preparations for the wedding begin. Lavanya, or Lav, has recently been promoted to senior architect; Rishabh, an affluent cafe owner, awaits funding for an app. He has a lot on his mind, which might explain Lavanya developing cold feet a few months before the wedding. But there is more.

In a flashback, we learn that Lavanya once had a crush on Arjun, Rishabh’s best friend from school, who is now a viral Punjabi singer in Canada. Arjun or AG (Aashim Gulati) flies to Mumbai to be with his mother (Dolly Ahluwalia). Lavanya, in her confusion, approaches him. They don’t connect immediately – she is more concerned about the deals she has to make with Rishabh’s affluent but socially conservative family – but the possibility goes off like a time bomb under the story.

Lavanya, Rishabh and Arjun are barely enough interesting characters to sustain a complex love triangle. But the other characters are still thin sketches. Those one-liner conflicts and intros feel like hangers-on. Sheetal (Samvedna Suwalka) and Sameer (Malhar Thakar) are married; They live in a joint family in a cramped 2BHK apartment, struggling to find intimacy. Preet (Anya Singh) is a counselor looking for romantic fulfillment (her first date, in a mind-numbingly predictable touch, turns out to be a client). Melroy (Sayaan Banerjee) is the token gay friend who is trapped in a toxic relationship. I am not suggesting that queer relationships in homophobic north India are not often abrasive; I just wish that there is more to Hindi movies and shows than just profanity and procrastination.

Then there’s Shahid, a poor boy who was never fully into the gang, and is played with meta-fictional resonance by co-writer Hussain Dalal (are the writers ever there?). Shahid, now a simple school teacher, gives a speech calling out the ‘privileges’ of his wealthy pupils. It rings false – my heart wantsLike four more shotsPlease! And made in heaven Earlier (all on Prime Video), the world of the ultra-rich is ensconced, even as it offers a muted critique. Most of the series unfolds in posh skyscrapers and hotels. Entering Shahid’s house, a date says, ‘We get a photography award in New York for this.’ Apparently, once he needs his friends in his area, only one of them shows up.

Hussain and his brother Abbas Dalal can write funny dialogues. we get a glimpse of my heart wants – “Party first, then make songs about partying, then play those songs at parties,” Arjun said. But the fiery lyricist has been derailed by the need to ‘youth connect’. Almost all the characters speak in keywords: ‘swag’, ‘bro’, ‘true that’, ‘roofid’, ‘bridezilla’, ‘guacamole’. Writers in Hollywood are protesting the potential AI takeover. Here the flesh and blood laborers are showing the way.

CrownAashim Gulati – his hedonism carried from the 14th-century Mughal Empire to modern-day Mumbai – walks and jigs with an easy swagger. Tamannaah Bhatia convincingly portrays Lavanya’s growing anxiety and annoyance, but not much else. Suhail Nayyar, as Sharmaji Namkeen, as pleasant as troubled class. And it’s always a treat to see Simone Singh, another progressive, ‘get with it’ mom (“It’s like the end of an era,” sighing calmly and regally when her character is informed of her menopause). is treated).

In one scene, the girls of the gang huddle for spitball ideas for a birthday party. They dish out wild suggestions before deciding to have a pop-culture costume party. ,It’s cheap, beautiful, durable,” they all agree. That’s how I imagine writers’ rooms would be working across streaming platforms and production houses in India. Go for the cheap and easy, and throw in a few pop-culture references.

Zee Karda is currently streaming on Prime Video