In the first episode of Maharani, now streaming on SonyLiv, half a dozen emotions flit across Huma Qureshi’s face in a matter of seconds. Six episodes later, there is the same flit of emotions. But while the first set triggers intrigue, you would probably be too distracted to notice the second set. Not because Qureshi does a bad job. She is, in fact, riveting in this drama of seedy north Indian politics where money, corruption and collusion are all tools in a game of flourish or perish.
She goes from a wife tired of her husband’s long absences to an astute politician with ease—never once moving a muscle that would in any way point to her more glamourised Bollywood version. But there is only so much an actor of her calibre can do with a part that is undercooked. Despite her screen-time and her growth into the eponymous Maharani, you never really feel invested in her. The evolution of Qureshi’s character is choppy at best, confusing at worst.
Maharani’s writing robs it of being the political thriller that it could have been. Or, at least, it does little to impart to it that edge-of-seat feeling that other political web shows have stirred. This could perhaps be a challenge of the story's scope. From the struggles between the landless and the landed and the underlying shackles of caste to the ever-present threat of sudden violence and the details of how a state’s treasury can be looted—the series packs in a lot. But it under explains some events and over explains others, leaving the viewer hovering between perplexity and frustration.
Though based on the life of former Bihar chief minister, Rabri Devi, this association is tenuous. Both women were thrust into politics due to the inabilities of their husbands to perform their chief ministerial roles and both faced a gigantic scam. But that is where the similarities end. Rani is a blemish-free version of Rabri. Though who is to say which of the two is more simplistic. Rani keeps her moral compass simple, asking her officer on special duty to tell her only whether her actions are right or wrong, without any bureaucratic legalese. The real-life Rabri would have been infinitely more conflicted.
Maharani holds a mirror to the deeply sexist nature of politics. In one place, the protagonist asks, 'Is this a Vidhan Sabha or a sabha (group) of men'—a question as simplistic as it is symbolic. And there is that troubling trope of using sexuality and gender to advance one’s political ambition.
The show scores big with its cast. Sohum Shah as Bheema Bharti speaks little, but is eloquent in the twitch of his facial muscles and the look in his eyes. Amit Sial is a winner as the overconfident politician. His anger and frustration need no exaggeration as they burn slow. Pramod Pathak and Kani Kusruti as political aides deliver strong, believable performances without overshadowing the people they serve.
The series ends with the possibility of a second season. One in which the makers must use better writing to explore its full potential. It is a show that needs slow cooking. After all, the journey from Rani to Maharani cannot be rushed.
Maharani
Available on Sonyliv
Rating: 2/5