Netflix’s Mai - A mother’s rage: Uninhibited rage does not mesh well with uninhibited writing
For six episodes, Sheel does not let up. She takes the audience with her to the depths of very dark places, questionable morale and uninhibited rage. While her performance may hook you in, the causal logic in this series is non-existent. The script fails her miserably
On 15 April, Mai - A mother's rage premiered on Netflix, and shortly after, the Indian-Hindi series secured no.1 ranking on Netflix Bangladesh's tv shows list.
And it doesn't seem like it would budge from that position any time soon. Why should it? It's an intense, violent, layered and emotional series, but is it believable?
This average tale of blood and revenge is made better with some fantastic cinematographic techniques and good make-up (more on all this later). However, what started out as crafty plot twists in the script takes many (many!) turns. One more absurd than the next, it eventually kills all joy of watching this series by the end of its six-episode season.
The highlight? The performance of Sakshi Tanwar, who takes the cake with her role as the protagonist, Sheel.
The plot follows the story of a middle-class mother who, driven by grit, transforms into a formidable force when she discovers her mute, young, aspiring-to-be-a-doctor daughter's death was not an accident. The story thickens as Sheel ventures into unchartered territory of the underworld.
For the uninitiated, Sakshi Tanwar is no stranger in the acting industry - she is in fact a popular name and face in the Indian tv serial industry (remember Kahani Ghar Ghar Ki?). She also played roles in several movies including the Aamir-Khan led Dangal (2016).
But Mai is her first OTT role. Granted I did not watch all her acting credits, but this must be her best performance to date. If Sakshi Tanwar was drowning year after year with small-time roles and/or bad scripts, building up - inch by inch - to a breakthrough, then look out world, she has arrived. She does not only deliver but amplifies every intricate (and absurd!) detail of her screen time.
For six episodes, Sheel does not let up. She takes the audience with her to the depths of very dark places, questionable morale and uninhibited rage. While her performance may hook you in, the causal logic in this series is non-existent. The script fails her miserably.
An everyday, middle-class, old home nurse, outsmarts - again and again - professional killers and people in organised crime by chance. A low-rung criminal spares her life out of a sense of loyalty. All this does not only mean the script is illogical but also the creators thought too little of the audience to have given logic some room in their writing. With each episode, how Sheel keeps getting closer to finding out who killed her daughter gets more and more absurd.
If you can look past the sheer absurdity of the script, then this could work.
There are one too many subplots as well. The writers and creators trying to cram too many plot twists in the six-episode long season further amplifies the flaws in the script. The cat-and-mouse chase, the cliff hangers and one too many characters - all of it may prove to be a little draining (perhaps a little after the mid-point in the season) for the audience to keep up with Mai.
For the sake of Sakshi Tanwar, one way of defending the script could be to see it through the lens of hyperbolic expression. In the process of Sheel playing detective to uncover who killed her daughter Supriya - played by Wamiqa Gabbi - it becomes clear that the death was just a collateral damage in the grand scheme of underworld machinations. But the mother's rage, perhaps in a hyperbolic expression, is a counter to the rich and affluent, the corrupt and interconnected institutions. Here, Sheel is the middle-class, the one without connections - except the comparatively better-to-do brother-in-law who comes with an already strained relationship.
Sheel is the everyday person, who refuses to simply let go and move on with life after her daughter dies because of the powers that be. She fights and, unrealistically, can keep fighting in an attempt to avenge her daughter's death.
Another big flaw was the failed casting choice: the eye candy cop - played by Ankur Ratan - who does not know how to act. Neelam, played by Raima Sen, a former escort who climbs into a position of power is perhaps the second-most unconvincing character in the series.
However, Vivek Mushran (Sheel's husband), Anant Vidhaat, Prashant Narayan, Vaibhav Raj Gupta, Seema Pahwa (Sheel's confidant and colleague) - all played their parts well, but to no avail because of a supremely flawed script.
Besides acting, there are two things that did stand out. The make-up, Sheel looks so real. Her stress, her anxiety, the dark circles and skin textures - all of that and more. The make-up artists did a commendable job with Sheel and all other characters to accentuate every fibre of the screenplay.
Another instance is cinematography. The director of photography - Ravi Kiran Ayyagari - did a stellar job. From the aroma of home cooked meals, drone shots of Lucknow (where the series is based) to the sizzling skin from boiling water in a torture scene and everything in between, he successsfully packaged it and served it in the perfect light temperature.
Season two is scheduled to be released in the middle of next year. But if you make it to the end of Season one, it's doubtful if Sakshi Tanwar's acting alone will be enough to make you go along for the next ride.
