Sanjay Leela Bhansali is renowned for his grand cinematic vision, and his newest Netflix series, Heeramandi: The Diamond Bazaar, exemplifies this reputation. However, the focus on opulence in this eight-part drama detracts from the substance of character development and storytelling. While the series dazzles with brilliant diamonds, lavish architectural designs, and intricately crafted costumes, it lacks coherence in themes, character depth, and engaging narratives.
Heeramandi, featuring a cast that includes Manisha Koirala, Sonakshi Sinha, Aditi Rao Hydari, Sanjeeda Sheikh, Sharmin Segal, Adhyayan Suman, and Fardeen Khan, immerses viewers in the lives of powerful courtesans (tawaifs) in pre-Independence Lahore. During this period, the pleasure district served not merely as a brothel but as a hub of culture and art, a place where the elite sought lessons in sophistication. Bhansali effectively conveys the emotional struggles and societal realities of these women.
The series presents a diverse spectrum of tawaifs, embodying characteristics from manipulative to benevolent, and illustrating their tragic fates. Each woman suffers within the confines of a “golden cage,” desired by society’s upper echelons yet publicly scorned. Mallikajaan, portrayed by Koirala, stands as the figurehead of the Shahi Mahal brothel. Despite her formidable presence, she harbors a deep void, believing that only death could liberate her from her existence.
Mallikajaan, often inebriated, wields considerable power over the local nawabs and is not hesitant to barter her own kin for profit. While viewers may initially draw comparisons to Gangubai Kathiawadi, Mallikajaan’s cutthroat nature reveals a more self-serving and ruthless character.
The story takes a compelling twist when Fareedan (Sonakshi Sinha), Mallikajaan’s niece sold into the brothel as a child, returns fueled by vengeance. The tensions between these two strong-willed women set the stage for a riveting conflict.
Several other narratives run alongside this central storyline. Each character has their own ambitions and challenges: Alamzeb (Sharmin Segal) aspires to be a poet, Bibbojaan (Aditi Rao Hydari) covertly opposes British rule, Lajjo (Richa Chadha) is ensnared in a toxic relationship with a reckless nawab, Tajdar (Taha Shah Badussha) finds love against his disdain for Heeramandi, Waheedajaan (Sanjeeda Sheikh) seeks to transcend her lot, while Shama (Pratibha Ranta) rebels against her envious mother.
Despite the multitude of narratives, the script holds potential, showcasing characters with complex moralities and emotional nuances. The depth of personality given to even minor characters is commendable, highlighting the intricacies of tawaif life. A striking moment occurs when Fareedan adorns a tawaif’s dance instructor, Ustaad Ji (Indresh Malik), with a nose pin, communicating a powerful mix of emotions without dialogue.
The dichotomy of the vibrant brothel life against the oppressive realities outside its walls is masterfully depicted. While slogans for the Quit India Movement resound in the streets, the elite revel in their hedonism within the brothel, where some tawaifs play defiant roles in the freedom struggle.
The representation of courtesans in the movement has often been overlooked in conventional history. Heeramandi addresses this by illustrating how these women interacted with the ruling classes and sometimes aided freedom fighters, exemplified through Bibbojaan’s character, portrayed with aplomb by Hydari.
However, challenges arise in the translation of the narrative to screen format. The lush sets are impressive, yet the series struggles to maintain its engagement. Despite Bhansali having nurtured this concept for over a decade, the execution does not fully meet expectations. Key moments and poignant exchanges are interspersed with sluggish pacing and unnecessary scenes that detract from the overall narrative flow.
Toward the series’ end, pacing issues become even more apparent. The finale, while impactful, suffers from a jarring transition from the seventh to the eighth episode, leaving viewers with a sense of abruptness. Performances vary in quality; for instance, Bhansali’s decision to cast Sharmin Segal as Alamzeb undermines the character’s depth, presenting her more as a lost soul than a lovesick poet.
Richa Chadha’s portrayal of Lajjo also feels misaligned, potentially due to her previously established roles impacting audience perception. Yet, Sanjeeda Sheikh’s performance as Waheeda stands out, bringing to life a character with emotional complexity and depth, suggesting that Sheikh could easily anchor her own narrative.
While scattered with strong performances, Heeramandi struggles to maintain a consistent quality throughout. A tighter edit and more concise storytelling could have elevated the experience. Although it excels in production design and thematic ambitions, the series fails to delve deeper, remaining superficial in its portrayal of grandeur.
All eight episodes of Heeramandi are currently available for streaming on Netflix.
Rating: 5.5/10
