‘Maharani’ season 4 review: The game of thrones adds monotony as a new player

The Sony LIV series Maharani, about an illiterate housewife who becomes Bihar’s chief minister after her husband’s arrest, set up the interesting journey of a woman thrown to political wolves. Openly inspired by Rabri Devi and Lalu Prasad Yadav, Subhash Kapoor’s show explored with as much astuteness as a series allows the political mess that is the north Indian state, picking from real events to create a degree of authenticity.

If Indian politics were not riddled with nepotism, rampant corruption and horse-trading, Maharani would seem implausible.

Alongside the shenanigans of powerful men, Maharani charts the evolution of Rani Bharti (Huma Qureshi), who goes from a gauche woman who stumbles over words at her swearing-in ceremony to a survivor of a jail term for the murder of her husband (Soham Shah) and then an avenger. Rani is surrounded by her three children, her Malayali aide Kaveri (Kani Kusruti), Mishra (Pramod Pathak) and the slimy opportunist Gauri Pandey (Vineet Kumar).

The second season from 2022 incisively depicted the formation of Jharkhand. Maharani still had some juice in the third season in 2024, even though the plotting contrived to give Rani a kind of omnipotence.

The third season got lost in a maze from which fourth instalment, directed by Puneet Prakash from a script by Kapoor and Nandan Singh, doesn’t emerge.

Having achieved the chief minister’s post, trounced her opponents and won the admiration of her state’s people, Rani butts heads with the wily prime minister Joshi (Vipin Sharma). Joshi is as vain as he is unscrupulous – he dunks his head in iced water, applies gunk on his body for a “glow” and reaches for his lip balm before a TV appearance.

Joshi also has a lady friend, Gayatri (Rajeshwari Sachdev), and a son by her, the ambitious Nachiket (Saddam Hussain). But Joshi’s personal life is just padding in the eight-part series, which has little left to say.

There is a sense of randomness in the wheeling-dealing after Joshi’s government – a precarious coalition of regional parties – is threatened by the withdrawal of support by West Bengal’s chief minister. To hold on to his chair, Joshi offers sops to Bihar, which Rani Bharti turns down, inviting his wrath.

Rani makes way for her daughter Roshni (Shweta Basu Prasad) to be chief minister, angering her already troubled son Jai (Shardul Bharadwaj) and the old warhorse Mishra. Kaveri has been sent to manage Delhi (with what exactly?), where she is wooed by Joshi’s aide, Murad (Atul Kumar).

The actor-turned-CM of Tamil Nadu, Sunderraja (N Peru), who has two wives and multiple kids, keeps both Joshi and Rani guessing about whom he will support. Throughout the show, Rani looks pensive, issues vague commands, alienates her friends and doesn’t see a double-cross coming.

Rani’s prime spot as a shrewd mover and shaker is usurped by a scamming Jai and a shaky Roshni. The third son, Surya (Darsheel Safary), is studying in London, though mostly seen tinkering with his laptop with no interest in the “family business”.

Throughout, Rani and Joshi keep trying to trip each other up, and it all does get monotonous. The woman on whom the show is based is pushed into the background, mostly displaying her wardrobe of handloom saris and jackets. This is the default outfit (inspired by Sushma Swaraj) of female politicians, it would appear – Kaveri and Roshni are similarly dressed.

The fourth season has all signs of having lost the plot. But the makers, unwilling to give up when the going is good, have a fifth season coming, with a revenge story already simmering and a definite nod to The Godfather.

The performances are on point, as always. Huma Qureshi, despite showing barely any signs of ageing, plays the not very likeable Rani Bharti with sincerity and grace.

Qureshi’s scene with the unhappy Jai gives the episode some emotional heft. Shardul Bharadwaj as Jai and Shweta Basu Prasad as Roshni bring out the complexity of their characters. Vipin Sharma is suitably Machiavellian.