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The story is about a feared fearless gangster Ganesh Gaitonde (Played by Nawazuddin Siddiqui) who calls cop Sartaj Singh (Saif Ali Khan) to inform of an impending calamity to befall Bombay in 25 days time. There is no apparent connection between them to warrant this tip off, until the gangster reveals that he knew Sartaj's father. This is the appetizer that sets the stage to uncover a dark conspiracy.The story goes to and fro from past to present tracing the life of Gaitonde, born to a pious Brahmin priest. Early on, he realizes that priesthood is not his true calling, but being a gangster is. He did not want to serve God, he wanted to be Him, and develops annoying habit of posing the question: 'do you believe in god'? When Sartaj gets around to face the gangster, the god predicts that, except for 'Trivedi' whole Mumbai would be doomed. Without elaborating further, the god "disappears", and given the circumstances, Sartaj knew that he was not lying. Why the gangster could not sing like a canary, instead of leaving this as a puzzle to occupy a long TV series, is still a puzzle. May be that is the underworld speak, to keep up the suspense, for prospective film projects. The episode ends, just as it started - with a killing, with more killings in between, spends lot of meandering time introducing characters such as Radhika Apte's RAW analyst Anjali Mathur, Sartaj's corrupt, trigger happy domineering boss DCP Parulkar (played by Neeraj Kabi).The story depicts - surprise surprise - nexus between underworld, films and politics in which professional outcasts like Sartaj do not easily fit in. A good cop predictably falls foul of the bad cop Parulkar who prevents Sartaj from investigating the case, and resents RAW's interference. Equally predictably, Sartaj continues freelance investigation, encouraged by Anjali whose role is too bland, neither semi-dynamic Alia Bhatt's RAW agent in 'Raazi' (2018), nor analytical Claire Danes in Homeland (2011-). Almost like an after thought, she is given some anti sexist lines to utter to serve up token feminism. Warming up to this progressive trope, the director exhibits prosthetic concern for transgenders too, lest one forgets. Sartaj character has frequent brushes with the nasty guys, but is blessed with more lives than a cat - laughable in a story packed with more death than life. They simply let him off. Blood and gore gangsters are perhaps particularly kind to the policeman who goes out of his way to investigate them.Various events are introduced: Sartaj comes across a really large amount of counterfeit cash in a house; an ex-partner of Gaitonde survives a shootout massacre, rescued by RAW, but still lucks out (one wonders why no one thinks of providing security to their prized catch); then there is another of Gaitonde's associates, the communal psychopath with cuddly name like 'Bunty' who has actress Nayanika in his sadistic stranglehold.While audience is trying to make sense of these events, we are thrown back again to delve into murky raise of Gaitonde.After nearly half a dozen episodes, one gets the feeling that the story is a collection of randomly dotted events, punctuated by violence (and to some extent sex), clumsily interwoven with potpourri of past events like partition, Sha Bano, Bofors, Babri Masjid etc - Hindu/Muslim fault lines. Again these are just thrown in pretentiously to give an impression of a sweeping epic, which it is not, as Gaitonde hardly participates directly in these. It is more a calendar - Gaitonde could perhaps say to a girl..'do you remember the lovely day when we first met? Babri Masjid was getting demolished..' or something like that.But Gaitonde's is besotted with Kukoo (Kubbra Sait) the 'lucky charm' of Suleiman Isa (Saurabh Sachdeva), a rival gangster. He manages to detach her from Isa, which, as the cinematic etiquette demands, earns eternal enmity between the men. There is however not much to the Kukoo's character other than a few banal sound bites to warrant such infatuation from the pretenders to the Bombay's prized underworld crown. It is also astounding that Gaitonde did not realise Kukoo was a
transgender in spite of having sexual relations, unless, he is 'sexually agnostic' to coin a meaningless phrase in line with the pompous names given to each episode as if to sound profound ("Aswathama", "Halahala" ect). Sartaj's subordinate, comical Katekar ( Jitendra Joshi) investigates a missing person in a separate thread. The cognitive overload of various such seemingly unrelated strands, and with the device of flashbacks, and violence gives the veneer of engaging drama. Only in the final episodes, the story comes into to its stride, in slow and partial denouement of various threads.
At times it feels like a low rent Ram Gopal Varma's film with extreme levels of obscenities (if you edit out, you literally delete entire scenes) and quite a few sex scenes added. Somehow many people seem to consider such sordid thrills as a novelty and monumental achievement, on par with Hollywood standards, and golden age of Indian cinema is around the corner. Ahem!
In this charming view, the series offered creative freedom to film makers who have apparently been denied to express themselves. Nudity and sex scenes were defended on that majestic excuse 'the story demands it'. I am sure even the story of 'Snow white and seven dwarfs' can be retold such a way as to save complete costume budget for the producer. Poor Ben-hur (1959) must be handicapped by this lack of such 'creative freedom' compared to the TV series Rome (2005-2007), or Spartacus (2010-2013). Casablanca (1942), no doubt, also lacked imagination, as some critics of that demented mindset also sarcastically remarked. It was a triangular love story, right? Blimey, what a great film it could turn into by sprinkling realistic sex scenes between Humphrey Bogart and Inrgid Bergamn! Pity it did not reach Hollywood stellar standards that Indian programs are now aiming for. 'The Godfather' could have been a better off if only the director took lessons from the artistry of the sex and profanity of Sacred Games, but alas, this gem came too late to save it. Closer home, Amjad Khan's Gabbar Singh in 'Sholay' (1975) likewise ruined the character by not spewing out appropriate filth true to character. Next time, in any remake on par with Hollywood standards, he should mind his language. Until that future masterpiece gets made, Satyajit Ray's accolade that it was a great film should be questioned.For all this 'creative freedom' claptrap, self censorship is not far off, when convenient. Rajiv Gandhi can be ridiculed with sexist obscenities, but you wouldn't find any leader of the opposite political spectrum targeted - it would be too risky to upset the powerful. Stick to sticking it to the weak.Glossy rich high world and poverty ridden grungy underworld are two extremes, opposite sides of the same Bollywood coin, serving our voyeuristic fascination with the glitzy glamour on one hand, and decadent grubbiness on the other, both of which are far removed from middle class humdrum. Fed up with ultra rich, ultra unrealistic trite romances, this series is lapped up as a true portrayal of festering underbelly of Bombay. I suspect most of these commentators praising the authenticity have no first hand clue about either of these extremes (nor do I profess to know ). Nevertheless we hear critic after critic prattle about the realism of Sacred Games - probably because it contains high decibel filthy language of the locale. That's the creativity for you - avant garde Bollywood style. When story is slack which it is most of the time, insert gratuitous sex scenes and obscenities and violence to give filler shocks, to give an aura of edgy gritty reality. And it is far too easy to do that in Indian context, a cheap alternative to creating really interesting story - which is hard, and as we have seen, there is an additional advantage that there would be no shortage of admirers queuing up to award 'creativity' brownie points for ropy titillation. For all the talk of creativity, this is pretty formulaic, a well beaten Hollywood track. Take a dark grim story and then spice up with nudity, sex and violence. That sells. The directors can tell an aspiring actress: 'you may be mahaanati Savithri, but unless you strip, you are unfit. We value freedom of expression'. What they are defending is commercial freedoms under the garb of creative freedoms. Nor is this a pioneer of the genre. Govind Nihalani's critically acclaimed 'ardha satya' (1983) explores similar issues and Om Puri with tortured conscience would have made a more fitting Sartaj.The series still manages to engage viewers, even with such pseudo-grittiness, and here one should applaud the filmmakers' expertise. The acting is excellent, especially Nawaz Siddiqui's complex combination of ruthlessness to enemies and tender loyalties to his women. Saif Ali Khan's restrained cop without super-hero is refreshing. Radhika Apte was given limited scope which is a shame, but actors in the other roles shine. One may not get bored binge watching this series, which is an achievement in itself. However, this is no 'Narcos' (2015-2017) which focused more on strong plain storytelling rather than dark gimmicks to compensate poor story or lack of character depth. Nor is this anyway close to the quality of gripping 'Babylone Berlin' (2017) which got a similar theme of a cop investigating a potential chemical attack, set in the backdrop of late 1920s Germany during the tempestuous dark times of collapse of Weimar Republic.'Gangs of Wasseypur' (2012) by Anurag Kashyap was praised sky high, more likely because it is not a 'maine pyar kiya (1989), but is again a slow burning violence ridden family feud, often dragging, and over hyped. Sacred Games is an improvement, engaging but not an extraordinary unmissable entity.
