Exploring the Mundane in Panchayat Season 4

Revisiting the Panchayat series shortly after its third season presents certain challenges. One significant concern is the potential for characters to become overly familiar to viewers, leading to a sense of complacency. However, Season 4 skillfully navigates this risk through thoughtful and engaging writing.

The characters remain consistently intriguing without losing their essence.

The tranquil atmosphere of a small town continues to evoke unease in Amazon Prime Video’s Panchayat, a brilliantly crafted series that portrays rural India where life unfolds without significant events or transformations.

The very stillness that characterizes the village of Phulera (Uttar Pradesh) contributes to the characters' timelessness, prompting curiosity and gossip throughout the series. Director Deepak Kumar Mishra and writer Chandan Kumar delve into these seemingly stagnant yet observant lives, creating a narrative that stirs a whirlwind of triviality.

The series encapsulates the essence of monotony that defines these characters' lives. In the third season, viewers encounter long stretches of unoccupied land, with little change in the emotional landscape of Phulera's residents since their last appearance.

Aside from the village Pradhan’s daughter Rinku (Sanvikaa), who occasionally mentions leaving, no one else expresses such desires. The Pradhan and her husband, portrayed with a sense of weary complacency by Neena Gupta and Raghuvir Yadav, remain steadfast in their traditional ways. In a season where even less occurs in their tranquil lives, the most thrilling discussion revolves around whether to serve lauki or kat-hal to visiting officials. Rinki’s trip to borrow a kat-hal from a neighbor becomes a notable highlight of her day. The camera navigates through the Pradhan's relatively large (by village standards) half-finished home, built on dreams rather than solid materials, with a gentle touch.

There’s a deliberate self-awareness and a certain awkwardness among the characters. The protagonist, Abhishek Tripathi (Jitendra Kumar), harbors romantic feelings for Rinki, and his clumsiness during their courtship is effectively portrayed. Yet, there’s a lack of excitement in his life that the actor struggles to convey convincingly. Is Tripathi merely a dreamer, a failure, or just unmotivated?

Panchayat feels authentic, as its director, writer, and cast possess firsthand knowledge of rural life, which lends a genuine and relatable quality to the series.

The episodes can be viewed as standalone narratives, vibrant snapshots of an otherwise stagnant existence in Phulera. One can almost sense the oppressive stillness and monotony. While not all of Abhishek Tripathi’s “adventures” (if one can call them that) resonate equally, some fail to develop into anything significant.

These characters embody pride yet lack direction, products of an unchangeable landscape. Panchayat excels in its authenticity and insightful writing, offering heartwarming glimpses into a rural lifestyle that is fading from cinematic representation. As the series progresses, the stark emptiness of the lives depicted begins to weigh heavily on the viewer. There seems to be no promise of a brighter future for villages like Phulera. However, the unwavering positivity of the characters prevents the narrative from becoming too bleak. They remain blissfully unaware of the futility of their existence, often taking pride in it.