Crazy Rich Indians:
A teacher tells his schoolroom of brats, “You are not special, you are privileged.” And goes on to warn them about how real life will slap them down when they go out into the world. One of these kids complains to his therapist about the embarrassment of having to come to school in a khatara, seemingly unaware or unbothered about a class of people who do not have cars. Jee Karda, about a bunch of school friends who grow up together into a tight circle of buddies, even pairing up within that group, brings out specimens of this cabal of wealthy young people immune to emotional depth and protected from real pain by their entitlement.
The eight-part series (on Amazon Prime), created by Arunima Sharma, Hussain and Abbas Dalal, still mines the dregs of Friends — the sitcom that set the template for all future ‘gang of pals’ shows, ran for ten seasons, from 1994 onwards, and is still remembered fondly by fans, who demand frequent reunions.
At the opening of the show, seven kids—six rich and one poor—are warned about their future by a psychic, and go on to fulfill his prophecies. Of the lot Sheetal (Samvedna Suwalka) and Sameer (Malhar Thakkar) are married, and swamped by the joint family in their two-bedroom apartment, with no privacy. Lavanya (Tamannaah Bhatia) is about to marry Rishabh (Suhail Nayyar), but not sure of her feelings for him; Arjun Gill (Aashim Gulati) has become a famous Punjabi rap star, Preet (Anya Singh) is a counselor, who is still single, Melroy (Sayan Banerjee) is gay and has an abusive boyfriend who remains in the closet, and lastly the above mentioned teacher, Shahid (Hussain Dalal), who understands rather late in the day that he is just a “charity case” for the others.
The characters parade around in fancy outfits, flitting through a series of parties, and sexual encounters, apparently incapable of having any proper conversations unless they are drunk, and even then the F word is overused. A lot of time is expended on the Lavanya-Rishabh wedding, and their constant spats. It is suggested that they are like that because of childhood damage. Lavanya’s lack of control, for instance, that has consequences later, is possibly because her mother (Simone Singh) leads a bohemian lifestyle. Preet does not have a backstory, but the one who counsels others, goes in for casual hook-ups so often, that she is unable to get clarity on her own emotions.
The only one who lives life kingsize is Arjun, but even he, when drunk, wonders if he is doomed to sing dumb songs (“ladkiyan hain machhliyan, par baby tu toh shark hai”) at rich people’s weddings and birthdays. The other actors are not bad, but Aashim Gulati is the only one who gets that a man who, without irony, calls himself “AG The OG,” is juvenile enough to stomp over his friends’ lives, and plays AG with over-the-top swagger. (Even he is stumped, though, when in a baffling scene, a hotel chambermaid orgasms on hearing him croon a line from his song.)
When the others whine about their mistakes, they just come across as pathetic—a soundtrack of Punjabi and English songs (catchy Sachin-Jigar music) is needed to convey their emotions, because they are all so narcissistic, badly-behaved and unsympathetic, they would not have the right words. If the idea of the show, directed by Arunima Sharma (with Homi Adajania pitching in for a couple of episodes) was to tell the viewer that money can’t buy happiness, or for that matter, common decency or loyalty, then the message, as it were, needed a lot more humour to make it palatable. The way it is, Jee Karda, is a dish with a lot of garnish, but no flavour.
(This piece first appeared in rediff.com)
