Taish Review: far from perfect, but excites and engages to the same extent

Discard: Harshvardhan Rane, Pulkit Samrat, Jim Sarbh, Kriti Kharbanda, Sanjeeda Sheikh, Abhimanyu Singh, Amit Sandh, Zoa Morani, Neha Sharma, Ankur Rathee

Director: Bejoy Nambiar

Evaluation: 3 stars (out of 5)

Two Indian families in London become sworn enemies. Two friends are sucked into the resulting vortex of violence. And two loving couples struggle to find their way amid a bitter feud sparked by long-suppressed trauma. Taish, created by Bejoy Nambiar for Zee5 and released to the streaming platform as both a six-episode series and a standalone film, has all the elements in place to create a well-directed visceral thriller.

The spectacle, which gives the thirst for blood an intelligent and nervous quality, does not lack muscle. But given that his revenge theme isn’t based solely on a conventional power struggle, Taish could have done it with a little more soul. It’s a bit cold and clinical at its core.

Fortunately, this is only a small problem. The crime drama is traversed with enough momentum and manic energy not to lack the power to stay the course without faltering too much. Some of the twists he employs are admittedly an artificial touch. The one that involves a key figure who, with the help of a lawyer friend, sentences himself to prison for carrying out a daring murderous mission inside the prison to be released before work not done is particularly farfetched. But much of the second half of the series relies on this act alone that a voluntary suspension of disbelief becomes an inevitable prerequisite for the sleight of hand to have its full impact.

Such trips are not too rare in the Taish plot, but the making of the series / film has the kind of surface plume that serves to hide the rough edges. Superbly lensed by director of photography Harshvir Oberai and embellished with an animated background score (Gaurav Godkhindi and Govind Vasantha) and a series of songs well integrated into the flow of the story, Taish capitalizes on his inherent technical finesse to create an elegant artist who gallops quite well for the most part.

Part of the credit certainly goes to the actors. They generously bring their mite, expressing with sustained bliss the darkness of the universe they inhabit and the enormity of the troubles that plague them. Because Taish isn’t your typical star-driven vehicle, it’s capable of giving the entire main cast a level playing field.

One of two warring families, the wealthy Kalras are in the midst of the marriage of their youngest son. The other clan is that of the Brars, ruthless gangsters led by Kuljinder (Abhimanyu Singh). The paths of the Kalras and the Brars intersect when the leader of this latter fraternity – it includes three brothers – arrives at the wedding and sets off a chain of events that unfold over a period of about a week and leave a mark. of death and destruction.

Skirmishes between the two groups continue throughout the series until a final showdown pushes things to a point of no return. When the decisive clash takes place in the open air at the end of a high-speed chase, it is incredibly straightforward and unpretentious and staged with remarkable momentum and economy.

The three main male actors – Harshvardhan Rane, Jim Sarbh and Pulkit Samrat – are key players in the climactic moments of Taish and the screenplay (Anjali Nair, Kartik R. Iyer, Bejoy Nambiar and Nicola Louise Taylor) ensures that the conflicting motivations that drive the trio don’t seem totally unconvincing.

Taish opens in the toilets of a London pub. In a violent confrontation, two men cut their throats. Neither is willing to let the other get away in one piece. One of them ends up with a permanently damaged spine and a perforated vocal cord. The hospitalized man’s younger brother Pali Brar (Rane), as quick on the draw as Sunny Lalwani (Samrat), the pugnacious guy responsible for the fatal injuries, decides to settle the scores.

Pali is a feared criminal known for not resorting to unnecessary words before taking action. His lieutenants – Jassi (Armaan Khera), the third of the Brar siblings, and Sukhi (Saurabh Sachdeva) – are no less vicious. Half measures are never an option for these men.

Taish ten days ago and the preparations for Kalra’s wedding. Far from the dangers swirling around them, the best friend of Sunny Rohan Kalra (Sarbh), a doctor not quite the type to fly away at the slightest provocation, heads for the countryside of the place of the wedding of his young brother Krish (Ankur Rathee). with Mahi (Zoa Morani). Before the joy reaches the expected crescendo, everything is horribly wrong.

Taish tells a simple cause and effect story but adopts a style that dresses the series / movie with sophistication. It’s not all linear – it starts at some point during the wedding and then goes back a few days to kind of start a random countdown that culminates halfway into major tragedy. The horrific wedding incident is a rift that tears the Kalras apart, and one of the Brars ends up in jail. The lines are drawn more clearly than before. Even as Rohan and Sunny follow their respective paths, the hurts of the past and the anxieties of the present continue to cloud their judgment.

It’s a man’s world here, but at least three of the women in the Taish conspiracy do not be short-term. Pakistani doctor Arfa Sayeed Khan (Kriti Kharbanda) and girlfriend of Rohan Kalra who doesn’t like his chances of being accepted by an Indian family, plays a key role in keeping the faltering guy in his life focused on the relationship.

Sanobar (Saloni Batra), Kuljinder Brar’s wife of steel, and her sister Jahaan (Sanjeeda Sheikh), Pali’s beloved, have free movement of the house. Both women have an impact on the decisions the men around them make in order to move the story forward. Batra has a strong and brooding screen presence while Sheikh conveys a combination of vulnerability and assertiveness that reinforces the character’s sensual appeal.

The storyline gives Rane, Sarbh, and Samrat equal weight. The actors play three different role models of masculinity – the first is toxic and aggressive, the second sober in his manners, and the third filled with uncontrollable angst. But none of them are reduced to a flat type of character – the actors engrave deeply flawed and wronged men with their share of contradictions.

Taish, far from being perfect, vibrates and engages in equal parts. That’s more hits than misses.