DAHAAD ("Roar")

In my
continuing quest for something consistently watchable (and knowing full well
that Season Two of Bosch: Legacy is
coming back in October), I happened across the web-based series Dahaad , and it’s a keeper.   The title translates as “Roar,” in Hindi, and
the show itself might be described as Bollywood noir .   This is not to damn it
with faint praise.

For
openers, the Indian film industry is the biggest in the world; “Bollywood”
refers more particularly to the subset of Hindi cinema, and as a pejorative, to
the happy-sappy musical features and romances ( masala movies) that have historically been tentpole successes for
the major studios.   There’s
more diversity than these labels suggest.

Dahaad
begins with the customary product awareness warning, but instead of assuring us
no animals were hurt, it tells us we might get hurt feelings.   There is, for example, Hindu-Muslim violence;
there’s caste discrimination; the police and body politic are corrupt;
brutality against women is a commonplace.  
There’s even sex – discreet,
by American standards, but the fact that it’s there at all is probably grounds
for pearl-clutching.   In fact, my guess
is that Dahaad has something to
offend everybody.

The
basics.   It’s a police procedural.   They’re trying to chase down a guy who preys
on women.   A serial.   So far, so good.   You’re thinking you’ve seen it before.   But not exactly.   The thing that drew me in is that the crimes – the opportunity, the M.O., and
the baseline, what makes the victims victims
– is generated by the culture .   It’s in no way separate, or
free-floating.   The brutalization of
these women, as we might say of all
women, is socialized .

This
is of course not peculiar to Indian society, or to Hindu social practices
specifically, but in this case, the women have been led to believe they’re of
no value, if they haven’t married by a certain age.   The bait is a love match, an escape from
convention, deceit masquerading as rescue.  
They elope, and abandon their families – the families return the favor, their
daughters having shamed them – and when the women later turn up dead, suicides,
who will claim them?   They’re nobodies
twice over.

So the
first hurdle in the story is even realizing there’s been a crime, then the
realization that there have been dozens
of murders, over a period of years, and lastly to understand that it’s a pattern,
that they’re dealing with a hidden, methodical psychopath.  

Other
pressures and prejudices interfere with an effective pursuit.   Predictably, the chain of command is
influenced by politics and religion, not to mention nepotism, bribery, class,
and clan.   The investigating officer is a
woman, still single in her early 30’s, and of a lower caste, so she’s unclean .  
All the minor aggravations and humiliations obtain.   But she keeps plugging away.

You
know early on who the guy is, and so do they ,
about halfway through.   But they can’t
pin it on him.   One of the sidelights is
that the series is really procedural .   The storyline doesn’t get wrapped up all that
neatly; it plods , a bit.   The cops get frustrated.

You
have to give it two episodes, at least (out of eight, total), to get used to
the rhythm.   It’s in Hindi, or a choice
of language soundtracks, subtitled in English.  
The subject matter is definitely creepy.  
These things mitigate against.   I,
on the other hand, think the positives reward attention.   The two lead cops, and the bad guy, held me
all the way.   The heroine, Sonakshi
Sinha, is well-known as an actress – if not to me – and exceedingly glam, from
her stills in previous parts.   She
definitely mutes it, in this show.

There’s
one scene I thought was gratuitous, or even cruel.   The
cop’s mom keeps bugging her to settle into marriage, and tries to set her up
with potential suitables.   Finally, the daughter
blows up at her, and deals out crime scene photographs of the dead women.   This is what happens, the cop tells her
mother, to desperate people, because they’ve been led to believe they have no
value, and they grasp at straws.   This is what happens .   They’re found dead.   Do you understand how a mother like you made
them victims?

Of
course I’m not a Hindu woman of marriageable age, and I felt the scene was
preachy and hurtful.   But when I thought
it through, it occurred to me that there might be quite a few young Hindu women
who’d watch that scene and pump their fists, and shout out loud, You go, girl!

Dahaad is
about being heard.