‘Dupahiya’ Review: This Small-Town, Charming Comedy Tries to Find a Balance
'Dupahiya' is streaming on Amazon Prime Video.
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Dupahiya is set in the kind of quiet, idyllic village setting that works like Panchayat and Laapataa Ladies popularised in the mainstream. But the story is lighter, more relaxed; the writing clearly strives towards a singular goal, making people smile. That is not to say that the story doesn't have any depth.
A still from Dupahiya.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
The fictitious village of Dhadakpur in Bihar is set to make history in India – 25 years free of crime. Right before they can hit the milestone, however, a motorcycle is stolen in the dead of night.
This theft, or rather what the ‘dupahiya’ stands for, becomes the show’s center. The motorcycle was meant as dowry for school-teacher Banwari Jha’s (Gajraj Rao) daughter Roshni’s (Shivani Raghuvanshi) wedding. Without the ‘dupahiya’, which is clearly what the groom (an impressive Avinash Dwivedi) has actually fallen in love with, the wedding is under threat. But its absence affects another family member – Roshni’s brother Bhugol (Sparsh Shrivastav) whose big city dreams rest on the two-wheeler.
A still from Dupahiya.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
Every time an accusatory finger is pointed at someone new, a new character and with it a new subplot is introduced. From a nimble-fingered ‘thief’ (cum ex boyfriend) to a conspiracy surrounding the village’s panchayat post, there's quite a lot to keep track of as the episodes progress.
The prospective sarpanch, Pushplata Yadav (Renuka Shahane) does her best to ensure that an FIR doesn't sully the village's ‘perfect crime-free’ facade. Crime isn't non-existent in Dhadakpur, it just doesn't make it to the cops – ‘justice’ is meted out at whim; the only thing necessary to set it in stone is enough people nodding along.
And yet, how much can you fault them when the cops (led by a sharp Yashpal Sharma) consider investigating a case ‘overtime’?
Then there’s Yadav’s daughter Nirmal (an effective Komal Kushwaha) who watches, dejected and forlorn, as her friends are married off and leave for the big city. While she trains the people in her village to speak better English so they can migrate to other countries for a better life, she continues to raise funds for a skin-lightening treatment so the rejection from marriage prospects would stop.
A still from Dupahiya.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
It's natural, of course, to expect something more from the show, even if it is a deeper exploration of its own themes. A place where crime can’t be reported to save a village’s reputation is a place where crime can perhaps happen unchecked. A dangerous, darker reality the show doesn’t explore but the implications are difficult to shake off.
This reality only gets murkier when you realise that this reputation is deeply tied with the panchayat’s reluctance to accept a woman as a sarpanch candidate.
When it comes to what the show is trying to achieve, a light-hearted comedy that sheds a light on social ills like dowry and colourism within the country, it does decently well. The issue is that it tends to meander – despite an alluring backdrop, the show sometimes spends too much time on unnecessary segues. A sequence featuring an ow;’s birthday party is stretched too long; things we could easily decipher from subtext still lead to flashbacks.
A still from Dupahiya.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
However, even when it's obvious that the things being said, the quips and monologues, are ‘dialogues’ meant to be ‘performed’, it's difficult not to indulge in the show’s breezy tone. This is in great part because of the cast. Rao is in perfect form in this story, effortlessly charming and endearing in a way that tugs at your heartstrings. He is the quintessential patriarch but the character is written with a nuance that highlights the flaws of a system over an individual.
The host of other characters we see on screen all imbibe the show with an unique charm of their own – despite the lull in the storyline, they keep you hooked to their individual ambitions. The writing (by Chirag Garg and Avinash Dwivedi) isn’t strong enough to build moments, making some of the scenes of ‘closure’ feel emptier than they should; the catharsis is absent.
A still from Dupahiya.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
Dupahiya works primarily in its subtext. Bughol, armed with his ambition to become a ‘star’ never wastes a reel-making opportunity – rather predictably, his ambitions are also nestled next to his desire to make his father proud.
If he proves himself worthy as the ‘son’ and the ‘brother’, he believes this pride will follow. It makes sense then that he is threatened by the idea of macho confidence that one Amavas (Bhuvan Arora) represents. Their interactions, of Bhugol trying to fit into a mold of masculinity that isn’t for him, are some of the show’s most interesting bits.
If Panchayat (the comparison is difficult to shake off) had its downright silly moments, the writing would land a gut-punch of a scene in the next instant. In Dupahiya, the emotions don’t get enough time to build to that crescendo. Moments are staged and immediately solved.
Dupahiya’s writing isn’t nearly as incisive as it needed to be to tackle the themes it wants to – ‘irony’ is the biggest strength of a story like this but if it doesn’t translate effectively, the messaging falls short. Satire has never been an easy medium and, to the show’s credit, the effort to find that crucial balance between light entertainment and social commentary is evident.
A still from Dupahiya.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
The show is unhurried and unvarnished, sometimes sputtering to a stop before it picks up again, and even with this push-and-pull, even with the charm slowly dissipating, Dupahiya keeps you watching. Perhaps you’re hoping for something more, perhaps you’re content with the show’s peaceful texture.
Either way, you stay and you click ‘next episode’ because the people of Dhadakpur aren’t done telling their story and you’re attached to them enough to sit and listen.