by Inakshi Chandra-Mohanty
Seven years back, we got a glimpse of the downtrodden state of Punjab through the film, Udta Punjab. The drugs, the violence, the chaos. It was a stark departure from the gorgeous pinds, ganne ke khet, and an overall romanticized version of Punjab we had grown accustomed to through the movies. We still see those sprawling fields in Kohrra, but now there is an ominous air over it, a fog of criminality that refuses to disappear. Netflix’s latest series is a crime thriller that follows two police officers, Balbir Singh (Suvinder Vicky) and Amarpal Garundi (Barun Sobti), as they attempt to solve the murder of a groom, just days prior to his wedding. Their personal and professional lives intertwine as the search for the culprit reveals much about the dismal state of society.
It is no surprise that one of the writers of Udta Punjab is a co-creator on this series. Sudip Sharma, also known for Amazon’s critically acclaimed show, Paatal Lok, has the knowledge and writing prowess to explore the gritty depths of Punjab. Along with director Randeep Jha, and co-writers, Gunjit Chopra and Diggi Sisodia, they create a universe that relies heavily on its atmosphere. From the Punjabi dialect spoken by the actors to the stark cinematography, they strive for authenticity.
Though it gets straight into the main plot, the crime being discovered within the first few minutes of the first episode, the story is slow to unravel. The exposition of the characters happens over the course of the series as each episode reveals a little more about their personal lives. The narrative is predictable. But, there is an unpredictability within that predictability. Many aspects of the mystery are easily guessed early on, but they are just loose threads. How these threads are woven together to form this murderous situation is the suspense we relish.
But what sets Kohrra apart, is the way it uses the mystery as background fodder for a poignant story of parental abuse and generational trauma. We see a whole generation of youngsters stifled due to the misplaced frustration of their elders. Happy suffers the inattention of his father, leading him down a treacherous path. Garundi is victim to the emotional blackmail of his brother and sister in law. Nimrat faces mental torture at the hands of her rigid father. Paul feels suppressed by the extreme beliefs of his father and as a result, Liam struggles due to Paul’s pain. The common thread here is the existence of parental figures who are insistent on imposing their beliefs from a generation of the past on their children of today. It is a bleak commentary on familial structures in modern society amid the chaotic crime scene in Punjab.
The brilliant writing along with the great performances bring these characters and themes to life. Suvinder Vicky and Barun Sobti do a commendable job leading the show. It’s remarkable to see how Barun Sobti imbibes this rustic Punjabi character, so different from any role he has portrayed thus far. This may be his fourth release of the year, but it’s definitely his best performance of them all. Suvinder Vicky is a revelation. Despite a career lasting almost two decades, with a few forays into Hindi entertainment, he is largely unknown to an Indian audience outside Punjab. This series has not only brought to light his nuanced acting, but has also catapulted him into belated stardom. While these two actors lead the way, it is the supporting cast that keeps the series afloat. Harleen Sethi is terrific in the role of Balbir’s disgruntled, angry and depressed daughter, Nimrat. Rachel Shelly beautifully portrays Clara’s agony of losing a son in a nation foreign to her. And there are many more actors that do a tremendous job bringing emotion and authenticity to their roles.
As the series comes to a close, I find myself wondering, are we supposed to like these characters? Barring Nimrat and Clara, my heart doesn’t ache for anyone. Instead, I feel disgusted by some of these people and their despicable actions. But, I believe that is the intention. These grey characters are not meant to be likeable. They are instead meant to be seen as an imperfect part of an imperfect society. A society that is slowly drowning in its own evils. But, as they each have their own form of redemption, we experience satisfaction, that in this burning society, there is a glimmer of hope. Just like its characters, Kohrra isn’t perfect. It is slow, it is predictable. But as the mystery takes a backseat, an important commentary on society emerges that makes the series a riveting watch.
