BOTTOM LINE
Quirky, Timepass Small-Town Musical
PLATFORM
Amazon Prime Video
RUNTIME
360 Mins (8 episodes)
What Is the Show About?
With a controlling father who is desperate to get her married, Mariam seeks freedom by posting her poetry anonymously online. Together with two misfit friends, Robo and Psy, she navigates the chaotic world of viral fame and influencer culture. As family pressure mounts and a major event ends in disaster, Mariam faces a final choice between capitalising on her internet stardom and remaining truly authentic to her own poetic voice.
Performances
While Shalini Pandey’s styling for the role feels slightly odd and excessive, there is little to fault in her performance at any level. As a small-town girl with big dreams, stifled by a conservative family, she breathes life into the portrayal of Mariam. Both the men, Zahan Kapoor and Swanand Kirkire, bring a refreshing gentleness to their performance. They unabashedly own the characters’ vulnerabilities and flaws, bickering with one another but also earning the empathy of the viewer.
Ashish Vidyarthi is apt in the shoes of the control-freak and the draconian, steely authority at home, with the creators doing well to humanise the character and not reduce him to a soft villain (towards the end). Anupama Kumar’s casting as the Malayali mother springs a surprise, though she isn’t given enough time to make a difference. Sanjana Dipu and Naushad Mohammed Kunju offer formidable support to the pivotal characters.
Analysis
Bandwaale is exactly the kind of show, brimming with an indie spirit, that explains why OTT platforms deserve their share of the pie in the entertainment industry. It is a musical at heart, featuring three misfits pursuing their dreams. Ratlam serves as a microcosm of society to explore an undeniably universal premise: women writing poetry and men making music, standing by one another as the world around them falls apart.
The eight-episode series, directed by Akshat Verma and Ankur Tewari, is primarily narrated through the eyes of a quirky small-town girl, Mariam. Hailing from an orthodox Malayali Christian family, she wishes to break free from the shackles of her patriarchal father, David. His authoritarian persona registers powerfully because he is a college principal who demands total control wherever he goes.
It is quite appreciable how the creators take ample time to nurture the awkward equation between the protagonists. The notion of a free-spirited girl accessing a neighbour’s internet illegally to upload her poems, only for the anonymous Psy to turn out to be a music producer, makes for an interesting dynamic. Romance is certainly in the air, but as a key twist lands, it only strengthens the duo’s bond.
On the other end is Robo, a goofy, ageing musician in a marriage band who strives to stay relevant and holds a soft spot for Mariam. The little quirks and oddities of their world come to the fore with liveliness and zest, without trivialising their concerns. These smaller details, subplots involving other characters, the cheery spirit of Mariam’s sister, Cynthia, the lack of agency in her mother’s life, David’s brother, Sebi, and Robo’s supportive band members, add rich texture to the central plot.
Mariam’s poetry isn’t merely a fancy expressive tool; it is the only space where she feels alive, safe to vent her trauma without judgement. Similarly, Psy leaves his identity crisis behind as he gives a techno-edge to their music. Amidst their zany energy is Robo, who provides a cutting-edge quality to their expression through his depth. It is fascinating that they were, at one point, even involved in a love triangle.
The final set of episodes loses some of the spunk, given they try too hard to be cinematic. Mariam has a DDLJ-like moment at a railway station, when she almost misses a train while her band members distract the driver to delay it. She later stammers at a cultural event when asked to perform a poem about her father and receives the moniker ‘Haklati Haseena,’ turning into a social media sensation.
This treatment continues into the climax, where Mariam recites a poem about her heart at her own wedding and wins over the crowd. All the primary conflicts, from the marriage problem to the father’s rigidity, are resolved amicably. Mariam is a runaway bride without the ‘Simran, jee le apni zindagi’ line. The ending is slightly convenient by the show’s own standards, though entertaining nevertheless.
Bandwaale takes considerable time to establish the small-town setup initially, a phase that is likely to make you feel slightly restless, but it is worth the patience. The dots gradually connect well and leave your tummy full across the six-hour runtime. It is colourfully dramatic and funny, yet it knows how to avoid trivialising the sensitive areas of the story. This is a difficult balance to attain, but the show manages to do it.
Music and Other Departments?
The choice to rope in Yashraj Mukhate for a show that significantly deals with modern-day music production is perfect. Though it may not be a series you’ll remember for its musical appeal, there’s a certain authenticity he brings to the proceedings.
The costumes, props, and sets are bound by a lively colour palette and design choices, which cinematographers Himman Dhamija and Jitan Harmeet Singh capitalise on effectively. The pacing of the show is uneven, but the flavourful, relatable writing is its primary strength.
Highlights?
Impressive writing, characters
Engaging performances
Technically impactful
Drawbacks?
Takes too long to gather steam initially
Overly cheesy towards the end
Did I Enjoy It?
Yes, mostly
Will You Recommend It?
If you enjoy quirky small-town stories, go for it
Bandwaale Series Review by M9 News
