Music First:
The first season of Bandit Bandits (2020) was a family drama, with music at its centre. The story about a classical music purist Panditji (played by Naseeruddin Shah), his estranged son Digvijay (Atul Kulkarni), the other passive sons Devendra (Saurabh Nayyar), Rajendra (Rajesh Tailang), his dutiful wife Mohini (Sheeba Chaddha), and their son Radhe’s (Ritwik Bhowmik) struggles with following tradition, yet wanting to break out, was appreciated for its performances, music (by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy) and somewhat novel subject. By the time Radhe defeated his uncle Digvijay in the Sangeet Samrat competition and was chosen successor to his family’s gharana, his beloved Tamanna (Shreya Chaudhry), a pop star, left him to join a music school and become a better singer. Their short-lived collaboration, Bandish Bandits ended.
In Season 2, directed by Anand Tiwari, much of the complications and concerns are carried over, but nothing actually added to the basic concept of sticking to tradition versus adapting to change. Panditji is dead, however, and Digvijay hovers around like an ill-tempered stalker, demanding his right to the gharana (the subtitles translate it as household!). The addition is Tamanna’s fitting into the music school at Kasauli, where the sole teacher, a morose Nandini (Divya Dutta) makes random comments like “you need to find your voice,” students wander around with musical instruments that nobody taught them to play, but they are all set to participate in a big reality show, Indian Band Competition ( IBC).
Nandini picks Saumya (Yashaswini Dayama) as the lead singer, over the already popular Tamanna, which causes some friction between the two. The cute, flirtatious keyboard player Ayaan (Rohan Gurbaxani) is also the resident lyric writer – because according to the strange methods of this music school, the singer also composes, and writes lyrics! Ayaan and Tamanna hook up quickly so when Radhe reenters the scene, there’s a love triangle ready to brew. There’s another one already simmering, with low key sighing and suppressed emotion, considering Digvijay, Mohini and Rajendra are older, if not wiser.
The action moves between Jodhpur and the troubles in the Rathod clan, and Kasauli, where the bunch of disparate musicians finally cohese as a band that is named Royalty Free.
A dirt-digging writer exposes some Rathod family secrets that result in a musical and social boycott. Egged on by his manager Arghya (Kunaal Roy Kapoor, who seems to have wandered over from a stand-up comedy show), Radhe goes to Mumbai to join a fusion band run by Mahi (Paresh Pahuja), who takes a revered bandish by Panditji and –travesty!–turns it into a birthday song for a rich girl. Sadly, Mahi vanishes from the series much too soon, because the issues he raises with the huffy Radhe, would actually resonate with music lovers – namely, classical music should learn to adapt to the times and tastes of the new generation, without losing its essence. The Rathod gharana would be better served by reaching out than by harping on a purity that just gets empty auditoriums. (This is not entirely true, there are many classical singers and instrumentalists who fill up halls!)
All this sturm and drang builds up to the various rounds of the IBC, including a very strange one in which the classical singing Rathod family has to ‘interpret’ a Queen Eli song. This singer’s name is evoked like she is one of the all time greats! The many episodes in which characters discuss the contest, quarrel, sulk and rehearse, would have been boring were it not for the music. To top it all, a mathematician called Ananya (Aaliyah Qureishi) surfaces, who gives the Rathods lectures on the connection between music and maths, so they absolutely have to include her in their band; also stand by love interest for Radhe. Then, suddenly, Panditji, who is not even in the show any more, gets a back story.
Ten episodes of a meandering plot, weird twists and characters that speak like they were reading social media forwards about surrender, inner feelings and freedom is too much to take. Eg “Art is a blessing and a curse, you can never escape it… just like love,” Nandini has an endless collection of platitudes!
The series could have expanded its scope a bit to examine the current music scene. Saumya brings up the point that today, appearance and performance matters more than singing – autotune and lip-sync are accepted concert practices.
The locations are lovely, everybody wears really attractive costumes, the actors do their best, with Sheeba Chaddha and Atul Kulkarni easily stealing the show. In the end, music is the saving grace, and the singers deserve all credit.
(This piece first appeared in rediff.com)
