Pushkar Mahabal, the director of the terrifying thriller Welcome Home, turns his unsparing gaze on the true crime genre for his new project. The Sony LIV series Black, White & Gray – Love Kills is a meta-fiction narrative with two intertwined strands: a mockumentary about a crime that is supposed to be real, and the restaging of the crime.
A young man from a working-class background is in hiding after being accused of four murders. Two years after this headline-grabbing case, an unseen filmmaker is meeting people who knew the victims.
The filmmaker reveals the rabbit in his hat: he has an interview with the alleged perpetrator (Hardik Soni), who not only denies his involvement but also provides an entirely different sequence of events.
On a parallel track, actors recreate the murder trail. The dramatisation identifies the principal characters as the Girl (Palak Jaiswal) and the Boy (Mayur More). Only the individuals who feature in the documentary are named, such as the driver Sunny (Hakkim Shahjahan) and the police officer Chauhan (Tigmanshu Dhulia).
The Girl is the daughter of a politician (Anant Jog); the Boy is the son of the politician’s driver (Jairoop Jeevan). Separated by economic class, social status and possibly caste, the Girl and the Boy nevertheless fall for each other.
A date night leads to disaster. The Girl disappears, the Boy is on the run, and the bodies are piling up.
Formally, Black, White & Gray is one of the boldest series in recent times. Created by Mahabal and Hemal A Thakkar and written by Mahabal, Black, White & Gray is an ambitious attempt to deconstruct true crime while mimicking its stylistic elements.
Although the Hindi series is entirely a work of fiction, it uncannily reproduces the devices used by true crime shows – grainy CCTV footage, emotional interviews with people who knew the victims, the confident assertions of police officers about the accused’s guilt, the blanket media coverage. The series takes viewers through a warren of half-truths and self-serving lies, reminding us of that murkiness underpins assumptions about innocence and complicity.
During the process of analysing the claim of the true crime genre to expose the hidden truth behind shocking crimes, Black, White & Gray smuggles in themes of biased policing, confirmation bias and the public perception of ideal victims. The camera lies too, and often in ways that are hard to spot.
There is a lot to take in, with the first couple of episodes demanding intense concentration. It’s a measure of Mahabal’s understanding of structure – he has also edited the series – that Black, White & Gray is never confusing even while following two strands side by side.
The performances closely follow Mahabal’s dual-weaving approach. The actors in the mockumentary behave as they might in an actual documentary, speaking plainly or angrily contradicting the filmmaker. Hardik Soni’s murder accused is bereft of emotion as he tries to make a case for himself.
The dramatised portions are heavier on emotion, with the characters played by Palak Tiwari and Mayur More driven to despair by their circumstances. The cast includes Deven Bhojani as a mysterious enforcer.
Black, White & Gray is intense and involving for the most part, unpeeling its many layers with dexterity. The performances are excellent. Saee Bhope’s camerawork deftly captures the show’s double-headed quest to make viewers question what they are watching.
But Mahabal overplays his hand, piling on the agony felt by the Girl and the Boy and indulging himself while juggling his meta-fiction. In this aspect too, the six-episode Black, White & Gray resembles a true crime show that overstates its case and doesn’t end when it should.
