There is comfort in familiarity, but there is also fatigue. Season 4 of Panchayat is a stark example of the same. Operating within the confines of Phulera — the tiny hamlet somewhere in North India whose nooks and corners now feel like home — Panchayat 4 reintroduces us to its quirky bunch of characters who have increasingly become like family. But while there is a certain delight in getting back to the people and places that have become part of our lives over the last four seasons, the lack of momentum this time around does compel us to feel that Panchayat has run its course.
In an OTT age dominated by blood and gore and twisted relationship dramas, the advent of Panchayat five years ago felt like a breath of fresh air. That it arrived during the pandemic — a time of uncertainty where we were clutching on to anything that felt even remotely comforting — made this series an instant clutter-breaker and, by extension, a bona fide hit strong enough to spawn a few seasons. But what started as a delightful fish-out-of-water story of a young man (Abhishek Tripathi, played by Jitendra Kumar aka Jeetu) who takes up the low-paying job of a panchayat secretary as a stop-gap arrangement before he gets back to the big city to pursue his dreams, but gradually learns to warm to its eclectic residents, has now completely shifted focus to the petty (and both funny and unfunny) politics in Phulera.
The fourth season opens right where it had left off in Season 3. With Pradhanji (Raghubir Yadav) nursing an injury after being shot in the previous season, the current season gets bloody — largely metaphorically — with Pradhan, wife Manju Devi (Neena Gupta) and team pitted in the panchayat elections against Bhushan aka ‘Banrakas’ (Durgesh Kumar) and his scheming, shrill wife Kranti Devi (Sunita Rajwar). Thrown into the mix are the ones who have shouldered Panchayat over four seasons — Vikas (Chandan Roy) and, of course, Prahlad (Faisal Malik).
With the entire focus of the eight episodes of this season on the politics of Phulera — and those in its immediate periphery — there is very little character or plot development. The interactions between the bunch of friends over bottles of beer are reduced to a minimum, sacrificed at the altar of repetitive run-ins between the two warring parties. We see them squabbling all the time, and often resorting to fisticuffs. Which, to be honest, after a while stops being funny.
There is an interesting symbolism in one party’s election symbol being a lauki (which, of course, is the leitmotif of Panchayat) and the pressure cooker being that of the other. But Panchayat S4 oscillates between being overcooked or undercooked.
Those expecting some development in the Abhishek and Rinki (Saanvika) romantic equation will also be left disappointed, with the two ending this season at more or less the same place in which they started it.
Panchayat has always been defined by the quirks of even its side players and the hilarious aftermath that ensues. However, barring a few moments — that episode featuring Binod (Ashok Pathak) feasting at Pradhan’s home but not sacrificing his loyalty, the cameo by a kid called Bill Clinton Kumar and Manju Devi’s brainwave about using free potatoes distributed by her rival to swing the tide of political advantage in her favour — are the only standouts this season.
Though writer Chandan Kumar and director Deepak Kumar Mishra come up short, it is the lived-in performances of each and every player that still make Panchayat worth a watch. But there is little that they can do if the writing doesn’t take a leap. In Panchayat, familiarity may still not breed contempt, but we are slowly getting there.
