You know there is something seriously wrong with a series when Kay Kay Menon himself looks ill at ease. An actor of his caliber has more than enough firepower to put a dent even in the most mediocre outings. In Adarsh Baal Vidyalaya, however, Menon appears constrained, tamed, and almost robotic. His face doesn't sparkle with delight; it seems to be saying, "I am suffering from constipation. Quickly take the shot and let me use the facilities." The blame shouldn't entirely fall on Menon either. An actor's performance is largely shaped by the person directing him, and given that everybody in ABV—whether Prachi Shah, Naveen Kasturia, Abhimanyu Singh, Archana Puran Singh, or Deven Bhojani—ends up ranging from flat to unimpressive, the bulk of the blame lies with Himank Gaur, who was responsible for duds like Taaza Khabar and Lukkhe as well. Shah is so formal, so well-dressed, so polite that she seems to belong inside a glass case in a museum. Kasturia's performance has become quite repetitive, so much so that it's hard to distinguish one Kasturia character from another. Puran Singh has the convincing, strict stature to sell Urmila's "villainy," but she isn't given anything memorable or meaty to do or say in the series.
The major disappointment, however, is the utter waste of Bhojani. In the role of Goldy, a buffoonish politician who can be sly, his casting sounds superb in theory, but in ABV, he awkwardly shifts between the joker Goldy who "hides" underwater to avoid a journalist and the antagonistic Goldy who threatens to seal the titular school after being slapped by Kanchan (Prasanna Bisht). As a director, Gaur doesn't shape his actors distinctively, and he is also lacking in a distinct visual style. In fact, he doesn't so much direct anything as blandly photograph his actors. ABV is written by four writers—Akshay Asthana, Biswapati Sarkar, Nupur Pai, and Tatsat Pandey—and created by Sarkar and Sameer Saxena (both appear in the show briefly). What they seem to have absorbed before getting to work on ABV is lots and lots and lots of "morally correct" tweets. The makers give the impression of having spent their time analyzing viral, virtuous posts to create a viral, virtuous series. This is why they touch on topics like shady influencers, letting kids follow their dreams (a kid wants to be a cook like his father), men's rights, women's rights, female agency, political propaganda, and the goon-y emphasis on protecting the "culture" of India on Valentine's Day by punishing couples who hold hands in public.
Did I miss something? I might have missed some other things because the creators really do bend over backwards to include every issue that can be labeled as "socially conscious" and "morally right." The problem isn't the intention. The problem is the shallow projection of good intention. None of the issues that ABV handles are addressed with care or sensitivity. The attempts are shockingly clumsy and layered with terrible sentimentality. The Drama for Dummies approach is a major turn-off and can be seen in scenes such as the one where a female student is taught about choice while learning to ride a cycle. The metaphors/subtexts/whatever are so bald that it's no surprise that there is a "history lesson" about a hairless society. Even ABV's attempts at complexity are undermined by its own juvenile writing. When Hansraj (Singh) realizes how hate and anger flow from top to bottom, from a rich man to a watchman and from that watchman to his two kids, he understands his own flaws and talks to a frustrated father about his feelings, culminating in an embrace. The lessons are learned so quickly that ABV seems detached from ground reality. It's not as if a show cannot take itself lightly. But in the case of ABV-like productions, the "lightness" is used as a license to be unimaginative. Just toss in the relevant topics and pay lip service. ABV is indistinguishable from a surface-level tweet that performs consciousness for the sake of likes and retweets.
Sarkar and Saxena bring their TVF (The Viral Fever) experience to ABV, and what that experience produces is a wannabe comfort watch that's actually a facile, forgettable piece of baloney. The plot points in ABV are ticked off mechanically, and we are meant to root for the teachers and the students and clap at their victories. How does one root for stick figures? No one in the show possesses something approaching a personality. The jokes, too, have a self-congratulatory sheen. The laughs are heard in an echo chamber with writers patting themselves on the back approvingly. You can see them admiring their "cleverness" when they give a hairy hero two big combs as a weapon to fight against his enemies. These combs, though, are never used inventively. They merely point towards the writers' wit—a wit that's half-formed and fully underutilized. ABV, alas, is undone by its desperate attempts to please the kind of audience that cherishes superficial, moral ideas only to present themselves as "informed citizens" either online or offline. The creators pander so hard that they forget to be intelligent, creative, or alive. Something like ABV is never a result of imaginative freedom; such stories are written by people pleasers who are slaves to their target audience. Sarkar and Saxena should try taking a chill pill. Maybe then they will finally end up making a comedy drama both challenging and worth watching.
Final Score - [2/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times