‘Pushpavalli’ (Season 1 & 2)…Sumukhi Suresh reworks the fat girl trope with an excellent stalker comedy-drama.
Back in 2011, a show called Mahi Way aired on TV. Set amongst the Delhi’s moneyed milieu, the TV series was a far cry from the staple soap operas on air at that time, for it presented its story from the (titular) overweight protagonist, Mahi’s, eyes alone. It was a romantic drama, with much of the plot’s focus on Mahi trying to win her crush’s heart, or find romance, with her body type acting as an obstacle. By the end of the show, Mahi learns to stand up for herself, her decisions, and not to comprise on any romantic relationship, just because of her weight. This was a small image of self-love on Indian television before it made way into the mainstream today.
Fast forward seven years, and now we have Pushpavalli, another show with an overweight protagonist in pursuit of love, who in this show is in the form of a food exporter (between this and a children’s library, the show dips into uncommon on-screen occupations) named Nikhil (Manish Anand). But instead of a rom-com, writers Sumukhi Suresh (who plays Pushpavalli) and Naveen Richard, write a comical yet pitiful tale of self destruction and downfall, as Pushpavalli abandons her studies, moves to Bangalore, takes up a job that is completely unrelated to her line of work (there is a running joke on how her mother calls it a creche) on the same street as Nikhil, and then concocts harebrained opportunities disguised as coincidences, to run into him and spend time with him. In Mahi Way, Mahi is already crushing on a man when the show begins, and she too like Pushpavalli, is told by the society that no one would want to date a fat girl, so she purses him by sending anonymous gift baskets, and cryptic emails to entice him, till he finally asks her out on a date. Pushpavalli identically hasn’t dated anyone and seems to have no expectations of ever getting asked out, so when Nikhil initiates a conversation with her (they meet at a food expo in Bhopal) and spends time with her because she is in his words, smart, cool and funny, it’s enough, for her to pack her bag and set off running to Bangalore. But instead of a bumbling idiot, who learns her lesson along the way, Pushpavalli is bullheaded about going on with her agenda, manipulating and lying to everyone around her.
Here is where the show is on a tightrope, where on one side you empathize with Pushpavalli, but on the other, you are repulsed by her actions. This balance works even better in the second season, where all the characters are aware of her actions from the previous season, so how do you still keep us rooting for Pushpavalli, or at least stay with through another set of her schemes? The writers do two things — one, they introduce a new character Vidyuth (Vidyuth Gargi), through whom, we see a Pushpavalli free of her past, and another, they add a few grey layers to Nikhil, who now doesn’t seem as nice as he seemed to be.
There is also the discussion of the gender reversal aspect — meaning was it easy to detest such a character because she was a woman? How different would it have been if it was a man? At the end of season one, when Nikhil finally learns the truth and confronts Pushpavalli, she finally breaks down and pours out all her feelings to Pankaj (Naveen Richard) and there is a sort of justification for her actions from her side when she asks why Nikhil had to approach her if he wasn’t even interested in her. If a man spoke these lines, the women would be painted guilty for leading him on. Heck, a man would have his friends find out information about the girl, while here Pushpavalli worked alone throughout, except for the help from T-boi (Ashok Pathak). But the show acknowledges that Pushpavalli has a problem (her deteriorating mental health is hinted at), and that’s why the second half of the second season (the first season is a breezy watch, but the first half of the second season feels like a repetition of the previous season), which is more emotionally charged, with higher stakes, works so much better.
Sumukhi Suresh is the main feature here, and her earnest performance leaves no room for any sympathy for her character. I especially loved by how she portrayed Pushpavalli’s desperation through her fast replies, where she replies relentlessly, till the person before her agreed to her. It showed her anxiety but also made her annoying, like an intruder trying to sneak in with every little opportunity she can get.
She and Naveen Richard (as writers) also capture Bangalore and it’s subculture really well, from the PG aunty, Vasu, who is never seen in anything other than a nightie (Sharaddha is an absolute riot — I wouldn’t mind a spin-off set in her PG), to the casual switch in dialogues between Tamil, Kannada, English, and Hindi, to Pankaj’s explanation in the differentiation of the cream buns from the Mallus and the Iyengar bakery.
My only issue was the second season’s first half that ran like a rehash of the previous season, with Pushpavalli making another set of reckless decisions. But in retrospect, it makes sense, as it underlines Pushpavalli’s persistent attempts at a goal she can never obtain. All her spur of the moment plans are hilarious upfront, but underneath all of it, you can sense her desperation. This is made sadder by the fact that now she is engaged to a man who truly loves her wholeheartedly, but she still chooses to run behind Nikhil. At that moment, we don’t despise her, but just pity her.
