‘Taj: Divided By Blood’ series review: Naseeruddin Shah dominates a tired epic

Naseeruddin Shah in a still from ‘Taj: Divided By Blood’ | photo credits: ZEE5

Perhaps the best cinematic adaptation of Shakespeare’s King Lear is Akira Kurosawa’s 1985 epic ran, The film’s title, explains Donald Ritchie in his book on Kurosawa, has multiple meanings ranging from ‘upheaval’ and ‘anarchy’ to ‘rebellion’. “It was probably a combination of these meanings that appealed to the director,” Ritchie writes. “He was filming a story about sons rebelling against their fathers, and he was portraying a time when all social values ​​were in a state of anarchy.”

ZEE5’s Taj: Divided by bloodAnother tale of rebellious sons and a father, it aims for an equally vast canvas, depicting the 16th-century Mughal Empire in degeneration and infested with fear and intrigue. The series – directed by Ron Scalpello and screen-written by William Borthwick and Simon Fantazzo – begins with Akbar’s siege of Chittor in 1568, which consolidated Mughal rule in northern India. Later, we see Akbar meeting Sufi mystic Sheikh Salim Chishti (Dharmendra in a long beard) at his ashram. Chishti heeds his prayers for a successor, but warns, “You must fear no enemy but your own.”

The story moves forward a few decades. Akbar, who is now a frail old man Naseeruddin Shah, is keen to appoint a successor amid growing troubles. She has given birth to three sons, Salim, Murad and Daniyal, who are young boys obsessed with sex, war and religion, respectively. Horses are tested through actual campaigns in taming and later on the battlefield. The brothers are forced to keep together even when there is strife at home – most obviously between Salim and Murad – who are under pressure from Rajput renegades and Akbar’s own brother Mirza Hakim (Rahul Bose) are rebelling in the north.

CrownLike King before, represents another valiant attempt at making a game of Thrones-Like the franchise was centered around the Mughals. It’s a thrilling proposition – even without the dragons. The show is clearly inspired by the standards of international period TV, an expensive (and huge) production spiced up with sex, gore, and palatial intrigue. So, we get outlaw spies and assassins, and a taciturn exploration of homosexuality (it was there King Very). But the other sub-plots don’t seem like spoilers. Female characters, in particular, are shortchanged. Akbar and Salim’s wives enjoy long hours in royal baths and cat-fights. And while Anarkali (Aditi Rao Hydari) is the subject of extended theatrical interest, she is not alien to the tragic romanticization that surrounds her legend.

The series is low on wit – there are hardly any memorable exchanges between Akbar and his chief courtier Birbal. More interesting is the show’s concept of secularism filtered through medieval religion and politics. From a callous exterminator of Rajputs in Chittor, Akbar emerges as a benevolent king (he scoffs when advised by his clergy to levy more taxes on Hindus for war campaigns). During one of his epileptic fits – the historical Akbar suffered from them – he has a vision of universal brotherhood. This lead them to formulate ‘Din-i-Ilahi’, or ‘Divine Faith’, which is based on compassion, civility and fraternity of all religions. Inevitably, this upsets all parties; Akbar has been branded as the equivalent of the ‘pseudo-liberals’ of the 16th century.

Shah, 72, discovers a weary intensity in his Akbar, emanating much of the anger from those sore, puffy eyes. Physically unattractive, he commands rather than his voice. (It’s a pleasure to hear him use old-timey words like ‘jaljala’ and ‘mutual enmity’.) With Shah at the vanguard, the show becomes complacent, barely takes the trouble to sketch the other. Pot. It’s hard to get invested in a succession drama when you can’t root for a camp. Salim, played by Aashim Gulati, is a chronic promiscuous; Murad (Taha Shah Badusha) a boorish fighter. Only Daniyal (Shubham Kumar Mishra) betrays some complicity, the gentleness of his demeanor well offset by his religious bigotry.

We get a massive battle sequence in Kabul near the beginning. Although highly staged, it bored me a bit with its obvious choreography (first come the archers, then the infantry, then the cannonballs…). Far more memorable is this exchange between Akbar and his ministers after announcing their plans for the ‘Din-i-Ilahi’. They look desperate until one of them calls for a change in traditional thinking. “For centuries we thought that the Sun revolved around the Earth,” he argues. “But now the news comes from the West that it is the other way around.” The expression on the head priest’s face after this announcement is priceless. “Astaghfirullah (I ask God’s forgiveness),” he mutters in shock.

Taj: Divided By Blood is streaming on ZEE5,