The Great Indian Murder review: A mixed bag

It takes a while for the series, directed by Tigmanshu Dhulia and written by Dhulia, Vijay Maurya and Puneet Sharma, to settle down, and turn to its real business: to excavate its very Delhi territory, with its very Delhi creatures, mired in a mess of their own making. Greedy businessmen. Corrupt politicians. Lavish farmhouse parties where booze flows like water. Bollywood actresses up for grab. Well-heeled high society ladies. Crooked deals-on-golf-courses. Rich girls. Poor boys. Hot-on-the-chase cops. And, in a totally bizarre turn of events, a young tribal from the Andamans wandering about, in search of a lost statue. There you have it: a high-profile murder at a glittering Delhi do, six suspects, and their back stories.

Part of the pleasure of this kind of pulpy fiction is to see how much fact there is in it. The novel encapsulated many real-life events which had made headlines. Model-cum-bartender-for-the-night Jessica Lal’s murder by an entitled son of a powerful politician in 1999 had shaken the nation. The 1998 slaying of black bucks (it becomes a ‘hiran’ in the series) by superstar Salman Khan and his party, and its fallout, promised to be a long-drawn affair. These elements show up in the series as well, reminding us how they made a connection between the Capital’s chattering classes and those that looked upon their doings in shock and awe.

Meet the dramatis personae. Vicky Rai (Jatin Goswami), spoilt businessman, in prison for the rape-and-murder of two underage girls, stops a bullet with his name on it. Daddy dearest (Ashutosh Rana), a powerful Chattisgarh politician, demands a CBI enquiry. Cue for Suraj Yadav (Pratik Gandhi) and Sudha Bhradwaj (Richa Chadha) to show up and begin investigations. Who dunnit? Small-time thief Munna (Shashank Arora) who had an axe to grind with the dead man? Mohan Kumar (Raghubir Yadav), randy retired bureaucrat who is convinced he is Mahatma Gandhi? Welfare officer Ashok Rajput (Sharib Hashmi) or his protege Eketi (Mani PR)? Or someone else?

Dhulia is very clear that he is making a series, and opens it up accordingly: this is not a director trying to expand a movie, this is someone who is exploring the long story format, letting each episode stand on its own. Which makes it a crowded canvas, with a whole host of characters moving in and out of the frame, as it revisits, in a sort of Roshomon-like fashion, the events that led to the murder. Some of the doubling back is fatiguing; some effective. And some episodes are clearly better than the others: with so many people and plot points to juggle, that’s always a clear and present danger.

All the performers do their job. Astutosh Rana, old-time compatriot of Dhulia, occupies the screen with authority. Jatin Goswami makes a terrific boorish jerk. Gandhi, who is doing a great job of flexing post Scam 1992, walks the thin line between being a cop-on-the-job and a man beholden to someone else. Chadha goes from a straight-talking tough cop to soft spouse without missing a beat. Raghubir Yadav who so rarely gets a role worthy of his talent, is a hoot. Some of the characters are cliches, some break out. Eketi, for example, is surprisingly convincing as the Innocent Tribal Lost In The World, even though his involvement and how he came to be at the crime scene remains as much of an eye roll here as it was in the book.

All in all, ‘The Great Indian Murder’ provides us moments of pleasure as it winds its way from start to finish of the first season, if you manage to stick with it. I will leave you with one of my absolute favourites: Dhulia, showing up for a flash, as a Delirious Rajinikath Fan. He exhibits more verve in that blink-and-miss second than many of his own actors.