There is something so deliciously fascinating and watchable about season 1 of Netflix’s Yeh Kaali Kaali Ankhein – a show that gave me one of my favourite Indian femme fatales in Purva (Aanchal Singgh). Authority, violence, desire, temptation, and greed all swirled into a delectable potion that I was more than happy to lap up. Not surprisingly, I’ve gone back to the show a few times since it was released in 2022. So, a season 2 announcement came with mixed feelings – we finally get more Yeh Kaali Kaali Ankhein but what if they ruin the magic?
Let’s set the stage first shall we? A middle-class man Vikrant (Tahir Raj Bhasin) dreams of living in a small house with a picket fence and a small dog with his girlfriend Shikha (Shweta Tripathi). He isn’t made for the big leagues and he never yearns for them either – he dreams in ‘smalls’ and he is content.
However, this dream has always been under a looming threat – the dangerous, borderline obsessive ‘affection’ a woman named Purva harbours for him. A powerful man’s daughter, she never had to want for anything and has, as a result, never understood the meaning of ‘no’. Naturally, that makes her a horrible person.
This love triangle, though the word doesn’t seem to do justice to the mess that it is, forms the crux of the story. How far will Purva go to get the man of her dreams and how far will Vikrant go to protect all that he loves? Season 1 was pulpy and engaging and unpredictable for the most part but season 2 seems to lose some of that steam.
It still has the makings of a pulp novel, one Rani Kashyap from Haseen Dillruba might pick up from one of those stands at a railway station, but the makers have lost a bit of their grip on the story. The stakes are higher in season 2– the weapons bigger, the murders gorier. Season 2 picks up where its predecessor left off – Purva has been kidnapped by Jalan (Arunoday Singh), effectively throwing a wrench in Vikrant’s plans to have her killed.
There are some new entries in the new season, chief of which is Purva’s friend Guru (Gurmeet Choudhary) who shows up with expert agents and surveillance equipment rivaling that of James Bond and way too many weapons. The needle of his suspicion moves to Vikrant almost instantly – he is shifty and terrified for his life. For a man with small dreams, everything happening around him only overwhelms him, forcing him to make quick, often erroneous, judgements. Director Sidharth Sengupta tries to keep track of all the twists and turns he’s already established and for the most part, it works but the flaws become evident too soon. Purva, who was the axis of the entire show, spends a lot of her time trying to escape and survive but with the show’s multiple, moving parts, we don’t get to truly engage with this fight.
Nor can we properly sit with Vikrant’s quickly unraveling sense of self and Shikha’s internal struggle. Shikha, now married, tries to balance the expectations that come with her new life and the reality she has been trying to deny for a while.
The cast breathes life into the show. Aanchal Singgh might not get the same time she got the previous time round to make a mark but even in all her sneering glory, she manages to eke out an impressive act. We get a glimpse into her past which means that the actor must not balance her role as the antagonist and the newfound empathy her audience might feel for her. On that front, she succeeds. Bhasin carries the mantle of the ‘leading man’ well – his outbursts would have seemed out of place if the actor didn’t put his all into Vikrant.
The inconsistencies in his character and the lack of awareness some people around him seem to exhibit is more because of the writing than his performance. Earlier, all these characters seemed to be on equal footing - one could never tell who would outsmart whom. But this time around, some characters seem to act out of nature so the story can move forward. The makers opt for convenience over authenticity to their characters.
Then there’s Shweta Tripathi as Shikha. Tripathi has a knack for the emotional – her character is constantly pulled in multiple directions and the toll this can take on someone is evident in every scene.
One particularly effective scene where she reaches out to her husband for comfort when all else seems unsure is enough to cement her role in the show, little screen time set aside.
But the actors can’t completely hide the way the show seems to be cracking at the seams. Why doesn’t a cop understand the difference between blood and sindoor? Are the black-and-white shots (with the blood and gore highlighted of course) truly necessary? With a stronger script, these flaws could’ve fallen through the cracks but alas.
Some plotlines seem completely unnecessary and take away from the time the show could have taken to truly flesh out some of its more enticing themes. The subversion and pulpy aura of the first season feels missing here – the dialogues don’t always have the crackle a show like this needs. There are parts where the show shines with the ghosts of seasons past – as the episodes progress, the lines between protagonist and antagonist seem to blur.
‘Morality’ as a narrative device was much more black-and-white in season 1 than it is now and that’s always an interesting thread to pull. Yeh Kaali Kaali Ankhein subverted the gender dynamics in the ‘love as obsession’ trope but it’s interesting that the show seems to want to explore how patriarchy affects this subversion too.
Purva is the splitting image of her father – her impunity and her stubbornness both rise from the way she was raised. For a few seconds, the show even gives us a glimpse into the person she could have been or perhaps wishes to be.
In moments like this, where the show focuses on its characters instead of becoming a survival thriller, season 2 is still engaging, but it feels more like a setup to what hopefully is a much better season 3.
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