Brinda is the latest effort at intersecting the unwieldly impulses of folk beliefs with the controlled beats of the police procedural. The Telugu series on Sony LIV is led by Trisha Krishnan, making her streaming debut as a police sub-inspector assailed as much by self-doubt as workplace sexism.
Raised by principled policeman Raghu (Jaya Prakash), Brinda (Krishnan) enters the police force with every intention to serve. When Brinda inserts herself into the hunt for serial killer Thakur (Anand Sami), her perverse boss Solomon (Goparaju Vijay) rudely reminds her of her place. Your only role is to fulfil a gender parity requirement, Solomon snarls.
However, Brinda happens to be Telangana’s very own Clarice Starling – intuitive, brave, doggedly determined. Brinda will not rest until she finds the connections between Thakur and a bloated corpse found in a stream. Brinda’s zeal persuades her colleague Sarathi (Ravindra Vijay) that there is more to the death than meets the eye.
Thakur’s gruesome crusade stems from his personal experiences. There are times when the pill-popping, nightmare-plagued Brinda wavers in her quest to nab Thakur. Among the people shedding light on psychological repression is respected philanthropist Kabir (Indrajit Sukumaran). A death in Kabir’s family increases the stakes for the investigators.
Creator-director Surya Mohan Vangala’s classic good-versus-evil thriller is elevated by its exploration of the enduring damage caused by blind faith. Superstition emerges as a form of abuse in Brinda, leaving psychic scars that refuse to heal. Religious orthodoxy has very real consequences, making monsters out of mortals.
Over eight episodes, Vangala and co-writer Padmavathi Malladi balance timelines, lobs twists, and maintain a hold over an ambitious plot. After a slow start, Brinda picks up the pace to stage an engrossing contest between fatalism and the belief that human nature can change for the better. A rag doll serves as a neat metaphor for the theme of possession.
While Vangala, who makes his own debut with Brinda, keeps the melodrama to the minimum, some of the scripting contrivances stick in the throat. It’s strange that Thakur’s savagery has gone unnoticed for so long. A sub-plot revolving around Brinda’s bratty sister Chutki (Yashna) is a moralistic time-waster, detracting from the escalating tension.
The shadows cast by the past over the present work best for the characters arcs of Brinda and Thakur. Trisha Krishnan ably plays a doughty law enforcer who stands her ground despite facing scorn. Krishnan’s compact body language and economical expressions also suit Brinda’s reserved manner.
Vangala’s humanistic approach gives Anand Sami the opportunity to shine as the dispenser of grisly deaths. Ravindra Vijay, as Brinda’s equally hard-working colleague, and Jaya Prakash, as Brinda’s father, are impressive too. Jaya Prakash is especially solid in an episode dedicated to Raghu’s empathy for outliers.
The relationship between Brinda and Vijay is especially well-handled. Their unconventional bond reinforces the show’s focus on its heroine’s mission without bogging her down with more drama than she can handle.
