Heeramandi’s review is wildly over the top—for Bhansali, everything is super dramatic. Objects are regularly thrown into the fire, be it books, jewellery, handkerchiefs or vinyl records. People don’t talk in Heeramandi review, they shout every line like it’s their dying declaration. Even in the smallest of situations, they say things like: “You haven’t broken my necklace, but my heart.”
A bit like Gangubai Kathiawadi, with many of the same problems
This theatricality would be acceptable if Heeramandi review had meat on the bones. Instead, it offers the thinnest of characters and Bhansali can never seem to decide where he stands on his female protagonists. Does he view them as women who sell their bodies and souls to survive? Or does he see them as diamonds, women who defied the odds and struggled amidst pressure to emerge as shiny objects that everyone covets? Bhansali thinks he’s spinning a women empowerment tale—the Netflix series feels like a prequel spin-off of Gangubai Kathiawadi, a return to similar territory—but the reality is far from it.
In Heeramandi, a cocktail of nawabs, tawaifs, and Quit India
After a mini prologue in the 1920s, Heeramandi review jumps 25 years to introduce Mallika (Manisha Koirala), the self-styled queen of Shahi Mahal—a house of courtesans frequented by the nawabs of Lahore. In Mughal culture, they were known as tawaifs. In Heeramandi review the deluded and lovelorn Lajjo (Richa Chadha) who always has a hip flask in her hands. Mallika’s sister, Waheeda (Sanjeeda Sheikh), covets the throne having suffered scars and broken promises. Waheeda gets her opportunity after the return of the daughter of Mallika’s late nemesis, Fareedan (Sonakshi Sinha), who takes over Shahi Mahal’s neighbouring mansion, Khwabgah.
The women of Heeramandi are like children playing with fire
The women of Heeramandi are powerful and powerless at the same time. They hold sway over the nawabs to an extent but they are also stuck where they are by birth. The high-born nawabs—the erstwhile royalty, now essentially reduced to being slaves to the British—have no interest in mingling with those considered low-born. (They do not see the parallels.) But the Netflix series handles it in such a caricaturish fashion that it’s annoying to witness.
The bulk of Heeramandi review, however, is spent with the women trying to attack one another. Koirala’s only job is to sell grandstanding, theatrical lines. A main character—who was barely developed—dies and the show pivots to a new plot thread two minutes later. Mallika’s servants, Phatto (Jayati Bhatia) and Satto (Nivedita Bhargava), along with the go-between Ustaad (Indresh Malik), seem to exist for comic relief or to add spice to the conflict.
A disservice to those it champions
Tawaifs were artists, preservers of culture, and teachers of manners and etiquette to the nobles. It was hard work, learning from a young age and practising to be the best. But Bhansali shows no interest in the pain and perseverance. He’s happy to turn them into bickering b•••hes fighting for money, relevance, and the top spot.