The title song of Khakee: The Bengal Chapter lists the various things for which the state is famous and then promises “ek aur rang” – the kind of macho, gruesome violence usually seen in shows set in the lawless Hindi-speaking belt. Neeraj Pandey’s Khakee: The Bihar Chapter, based on a true story, was one such series.
The second season in the Khakee series is fictional – created by Pandey, directed by Debatma Mandal and Tushar Kanti Ray, with three writers and four cinematographers to capture colonial-era backdrops, traditional mansions, Ambassador cars, grungy streets and crowded padas. The ghettos are where armies of unemployed men are locked into unwritten pacts of loyalty to gang lords, who, in turn, are protected by the ruling party.
The seven-part series gathers together some of the best actors in Bengal to speak Bengali-sprinkled Hindi. Barun Roy (a chilling Prosenjit Chatterjee) is the de facto mover and shaker of a party that has a dessicated old man (Subhashish Mukerjee) as Chief Minister in name only. The opposition troublemaker is the cotton sari-clad Nibedita (Chitrangda Singh), always ready with a mob and a protest procession. That these characters resemble real-life politicians will not be lost on the attentive news watcher.
Barun’s cohort includes the ferocious Bagha (Saswata Chatterjee), who is capable of single-handed carnages and has become so powerful that nobody dares cross him. Bagha has a hotheaded aide, Sagor (Ritwick Bhowmik), and his Bihari teammate Ranjit (Aadil Zafar Khan).
Arjun Maitra (Jeet) enters a couple of episodes in – a shrewd, fearless and honest cop who decides to clean up the city. Along with a team of loyal colleagues, including Aratrika (Aakanksha Singh) and Himel (Mimoh Chakraborty), Arjun goes in guns blazing, ignoring orders if need be.
Although in spirit like numerous cop-gangster-politician nexus films and shows, what makes The Bengal Chapter several degrees superior is its cultural specificity. The series has a few unusual characters, such as Shankar’s son Cheena, played by Tenzin Bodh, and thrilling action set pieces at eye-catching locations.
The scenes between the violent interludes – the relationships and interactions between various characters – are thoughtfully written. Sagor and Rajit have a Jai-Veeru friendship that is tested by circumstances and tragedy.
In this macho world, some space is made for the women. Bagha worships his mother. Nibedita is a firebrand opposition leader with a soft side. Aratrika never shies away from a gunfight. It’s an ex-girlfriend who helps Arjun crack the case.
Bengali movie star Jeet is a good casting choice. He has an almost avuncular expression, but also the hawkish sharpness that does not miss anything. Prosenjit Chatterjee, Saswata Chatterjee and Chitrangda Singh do not let their star power overshadow the younger actors.
Ritwik Bhowmik, usually seen in romantic roles, transforms easily into a street thug, as understated as Aadil Zafar Khan’s Ranjit is deliberately over-the-top.
Despite overused crime show tropes, The Bengal Chapter has attention to detail as well as elements of unpredictability. It is too violent – a decapitated head is used as a football – but that is now par for the course.
