‘Panchayat’ S3 Review: Journey Back to Phulera Is Heartwarming but Incomplete

No matter how interesting or arresting a show might be, sustaining the same charm (or the uproarious comedy in this instance) for a third season can be tough. To a certain degree Panchayat season 3 both succeeds and struggles to keep the charm alive. After the somber events with which season 2 ended, it was to be expected that the new season would feel more ‘serious’ than its predecessors.

Spoiler warning for season 2: The last episode ended with council member Prahlad (Faisal Khan) grappling with his son’s death. There was nary a viewer who wasn’t blown away by his performance – his grief palpable through the screen.

In season 3, Khan’s grief becomes a driving force for his character– it makes it harder for him to look over the frivolity with which the powerful carry on with their lives. The ‘teddy bear’ persona, as many have called it, has been overshadowed by the sheer magnitude of grief he feels. From taking to the bottle to refusing to go home (the ‘khaali ghar kaatne ko daudta hai’ remains unsaid until necessary), Prahlad is not the man he used to be in the first two seasons.

Prahlad’s scenes also capture the best thing about Panchayat – the sense of community in the quiet village of Phulera. While Prahlad deals with his grief, Vikas and Dubey’s families come together to take care of him – every meal is taken care of. Prahlad enters conversations even when he isn’t present, much like a family member would.

When the ‘dulha’ from earlier shows up, Vikas calls him ‘gaon ka damaad’. When someone faces a health issue, everyone in the vicinity rushes to help. These are the best parts of Panchayat and always have been.

This is perhaps why the show’s attempts to become larger than its earlier scale can feel a little jarring. The show begins, for instance, in a city instead of Phulera which already feels a little off. It is not until we see Vikas drive by on his bike or Bhushan (Durgesh Kumar) and Vinod conspiring at the tea stall that it truly feels like Panchayat.

Like I mentioned above, the show isn’t nearly as uproariously funny as season 2 (my personal favourite) but perhaps that is because we don’t get to see nearly enough of Neena Gupta and Sunita Rajwar’s characters’ enmity. Season 2 had seemingly set up the ground for these two to finally have a mental chess match of sorts but season 3 doesn’t often hold up to that premise. And yet, there are times when the humour lands.

Panchayat has, for the most part, perfected the art of creating set pieces that look completely natural – as if the actors were given a cue and are just doing what they wish to do. For instance, Vikas teaches a man Bam Bahadur self-defense by essentially dancing around his attacks and a fight breaks out outside a hospital where multiple men unequipped for the squabble….do just that. For a camera byte to a journalist, the village stands united behind the man speaking but once the initial chutzpah wears off, you can see the awkwardness seep in.

These are all excellent actors and have developed a camaraderie with each other that makes their characters’ relationships all the more believable. Much has been said about how well each actor captures their characters’ spirit so there is no point in repeating it. That being said, Vikas’ (Chandan Roy) character is still one of my favourites, second only to Manju Devi and Kranti Devi.

The one thing that stands out is Manju Devi’s growth. Earlier, she was just the proxy through which the council leader Dubey kept his position. But it always felt like she was the more natural leader between the two – that is more realized this season. As Dubey’s flaws – including a bias exposed by a housing scheme – are exposed, Manju Devi steps forward. But this makes it even more heartbreaking that we don’t see more of the fight for power between her and Kranti Devi.

Instead, Bhushan, in his thirst for power, turns to the loathsome MLA Chandrakishore (Pankaj Jha) whose motives for helping him are purely selfish. As egos clash, Chandrakishore decides to ‘destroy’ Phulera because he can’t break their spirit. Should someone responsible for the governance of people be someone who flies off the handle or resorts to violence this easily? The commentary, while not scathing, is welcome.

However, there is a tonal confusion with the season’s second half. The MLA poses a real danger to the village – this is the fight of the common man against those in power. While it is possible to deal with this subject in a comic manner, Panchayat doesn’t always manage that balance. The MLA is supposed to feel out-of-place in the tranquility of Phulera but the background score doesn’t always do the show any favours. Yes, Panchayat is meant to be a light-hearted show but it proved in the second season that it also understands the darker aspects of human life. The switch was executed better then.

There’s also love on the cards. Abhishek (Jitendra Kumar) and Rinku (Sanvikaa) awkwardly try to navigate the early stages of a relationship. While I often find that romantic arcs take away from shows because they’re not planned well, that is not the case here. Their scenes come as a breath of fresh air in all the chaos that surrounds them.

For a viewer, however, it’s still easy to enter Phulera – it’s easy to remember why we care about the people, the places. The set design still feels comforting and nostalgic – every part of the Phulera village seems familiar. When someone speaks of a location off-camera, you know exactly what they’re talking about. The camerawork is as simplistic as always which adds to the show’s rustic charm.

However, the flaws of Panchayat are still evident -- the misplaced background music, the tonal confusion, and even the glaring lack of exploration into issues like caste, class, and gender. The latter is perhaps still more explored than the former. How does the council leader’s bias actually affect the people in Phulera?

At some level, I understand why we had to leave Phulera-- the story had to grow out of it -- but that doesn’t mean that we couldn’t have gone deeper into the village too. Even as the camera moves away from the village, there are so many stories and homes that still seem unexplored.

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