Dabba Cartel Review: High Five!

Dabba Cartel’s reluctant black comedy in the body of a crime thriller starts out interestingly enough to accomplish its Narcos: Thane aspirations, notes Sukanya Verma.

Renowned American jeweller Harry Winston once sent a precious diamond in an ordinary brown package by registered mail as he felt the less attention it draws, the more secure its delivery.

Watching the women of Dabba Cartel casually supply dope all across the city of Mumbai as part of their tiffin courier service has a similar aplomb to it.

In a shrewd but simple touch, there’s a bindi to tell regular lunch boxes from the suspect ones and avoid the chance of mix-up.

Using everyday domestic imagery to camouflage an illegal enterprise is their masterstroke move but more than the trick, its the compulsions and challenges driving each of these five women that gives Dabba Cartel its spunk to a certain degree.

Directed by Hitesh Bhatia (whose directorial debut Sharmaji Namkeen I had liked very much) for creators Shibani Akhtar, Vishnu Menon, Gaurav Kapur and Akansha Seda, the script is co-written by Menon and Bhavna Kher.

The seven-part series, which boasts of a terrific ensemble of actors, bites off more than it can chew in trying to merge a homegrown drug trafficking network with a whistleblower’s quest to turn the spotlight on pharmaceutical malpractices.

Its less substantial more sensational soul sister can be found in Homi Adajania’s similar themed Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo, which wears its feminism like a statement necklace.

No less on ambition, Dabba Cartel’s reluctant black comedy in the body of a crime thriller starts out interestingly enough to accomplish its Narcos: Thane aspirations boosted by an eclectic score of catchy rap and profane rhythm.

Residents of a middle-class Thane colony, Sheila and Raji (Shabana Azmi, Shalini Pandey) are a saas-bahu pair operating a dabba service, increasingly in demand for its surreptitiously slipped in homemade viagra.

Things may be smooth on the work front but Sheila’s dubious past and Raji’s hopes from the future are far from aligned.

Meanwhile, neighbourhood snob Varuna (Jyothika) juggles between a boutique running in loss and a strained marriage to Shankar (Jisshu Sengupta) preoccupied with shielding his company’s fraud from the media's prying eyes.

Raji’s husband, Hari (Bhupendra Jadawat) works as Shankar’s subordinate in the same pharma firm and senses an opportunity to realise his Germany goals.

Single mum Mala (Nimisha Sajayan), the hot-tempered domestic help at both households, wants nothing more than to give her daughter a good life while Shahida (Anjali Anand), the sassy real estate agent, is all for seizing the day as long as it suits her purpose.

Despite the social, cultural and economic differences in their backgrounds, Sheila, Raji, Varuna, Shahida and Mala form an unlikely partnership that’s fuelled as much by greed as desperation.

Sheila is a dormant volcano waiting to explode.

Raji needs to fund her significant other’s Germany dream.

Varuna wants to save face by saving her store.

Shahida plans to escape to a country where love is love.

Mala falls prey to her shady boyfriend’s age-old blackmail tactics.

In a poorly developed turn of events, the women are strong-armed by a gangster to use their dabba platform for drug dealing. What ensues is not so much bouncing back from disaster as it is monotonous scenes of them getting a kick out of it.

Often the thin line between telling lies and withholding the truth is blurred as they weakly contemplate between wanting out and staying put.

There’s no moral compass guiding either of them, not as far as the repercussions of their actions go anyway. Whatever resistance is mustered is solely from Raji’s side.

But there too, it’s not her conscience. She simply cannot distinguish her dreams from her husband’s.

Running parallel to the plot is a drug inspector’s (Gajraj Rao) earnest investigation on banned painkillers circulating freely in the market, a malpractice entirely denied by the licensed pharma company in question despite the growing number of casualties.

A cop (Sai Tamhankar), eager to prove she’s up to the job, accompanies him on the case while they slowly learn to trust and respect each other’s instincts.

Sushmita Mukherjee, Lillete Dubey and Sunil Grover are thrown in the mix for elements of snooping, sentiment and shock but they just don’t add up. As it happens in the case of many TV shows teeming with too many characters, Dabba Cartel, too, struggles to keep up as plot threads are dug into and dropped at whim.

While I didn’t think much of its sloppy flashbacks, backstories and blood tie reveals, the lightly tread lesbian romance and poignant moments like the one between a proud, privileged woman acknowledging her humiliation before her housemaid keep the series going even when the contrivances pile up.

Both Thane, where most of Dabba Cartel unravels, and Mumbai should take offence at the dull depiction of Ganeshotsav celebration as shown in this series.

Worse though is how hastily the leisurely drawn out narrative arrives at outlandish, futile season two conclusions, following conveniently figured lapses of judgement and miraculous epiphanies.

Dabba Cartel is so consumed by the thrills in the storytelling it doesn’t think much about adding words of caution in its commentary. No party is willing to be held accountable while a one-note media seeks answers.

What works are the headstrong interactions between these wonderfully unique actors, each one of them bringing something special to the table.

Gajraj Rao’s efficiency comes through every time he balances sincerity in humour.

Sai Tamhankar is just the right mix of persistent and awkward.

Dabba Cartel would amount to little without its delightful fivesome and their believable bonhomie at play.

Every single one has a character defining attribute -- swaggering Sheila, pushover Raji, brash Mala, conceited Varuna, jugaad specialist Shahida…

If Shabana Azmi’s lioness off the leash has fun playing to the gallery, Shalini asserts her proficiency in yet another nervous nice girl avatar.

Between Jyothika stealing every scene with her growl and gumption, Nimisha Sajayan’s spitfire spirit unfazed by any form of mischief and Anjali Anand’s unapologetic rascality wearing the gift of the gab, this dabba has enough to munch on if not food for thought.

Dabba Cartel streams on Netflix.