Rating: **

There is nothing in Season 3 of Maharani , on SonyLIV, which we haven’t already seen in Season 1 and 2. Rani, the rubbery version of Rabri Devi is still the Machiavellian mastermind who plots and plans without giving away any of her vital secrets to her enemies, or even those closely associated with her, chiefly her right-hand man Mishraji(Pramod Pathak who is stoically subtle as the power behind the throne) and Kaveri, Rani Bharati’s personal assistant, played by the supremely talented Kani Kusruti.

Poor thing!Kani is reduced to carrying Rani’s files and at the same time balancing a South Indian accent in Hindi.It is a thankless job.Like most of what transpires in the series .

As someone who has lived in Bihar for most of his life, I strongly condemn the liberties taken by the writers (Nandan Singh,Umashankar Singh, Subhash Kapoor) in depicting the rogue version of Bihar’s politics.

By now we all know that Amit Sial, who holds the wobbly series together like an expert nagivator steering a leaky boat, and Sohum Shah(reduced to a ghostly figure in Season 3) play fictionalized versions of Nitish Kumar and Laloo Yadav. Neither was as sharp-witted as shown in the series.

As for Huma Qureshi’s Rabri Devi, she stands tall in her ambitions. But is furiously felled by her impertinent interpretation of Indian politics. The series and its architects want to show Rani Bharati as some kind of miracle woman with maverick politics.She is imagined as a smart and obstinate woman through dialogues that make her sound like she is doing an audition for Jhani Ki Rani.

Early in the third season(and by far the weakest) Rani tells her adversary Navin Kumar, “When I was just a Class Six dropout I had made life hell for you. Now when I’ve passed intermediate can you imagine what I can do?”

The line, like many others, sounds smart but is inherently dumb, equating formal education to worldly wisdom.

To actor Amit Sial’s credit he takes all of Rani Bharti’s supposed punchlines with a pinch of salt. His devious skills come in handy to iron out the rough patches in a script that needed drastic doctoring instead of the unconditional pampering which we see.

Huma Qureshi’s Rani Bharti is neither tough enough to withstand the discrepancies in the storytelling nor sensitive enough for us to root for her through seven more episodes of a sluggish slugfest.

Spare us these political dramas where the actors look like they could do with some hefty writing.Just making them say things that sordid politicians are supposed to, is not a good enough incentive to keep the creaky machinery going.