Musafir Cafe (Season 1)
Introduction
There is a slice of Imtiaz Ali in the new Hindi show Musafir Cafe, particularly when you are introduced to the characters of Chander (Vikrant Massey) and Sudha (Vedika Pinto). In a scene, you see them warming up to each other in their first meeting like Ved and Tara in Tamasha (2015). In another, you see her leaving her rental home after a fight with her roomie – only to shift in with him, epitomizing the non-chalance of Geet in Jab We Met (2006). There is an organic equation of friends making a pact to not fall in love, only for love to play cupid and find its way back to where it belongs – much like the cutsie couple in Socha Na Tha (2005). Or even the couple circling back to the ‘Tamasha’ energy, even as Sudha helps Chander realise his dream of opening a cafe in the mountains, a far cry from his 9-to-5 job. In other words, there is an inherent sweetness to the proceedings with the exception of the standard genre tropes that limit the range of a show, which operates on moderate levels. The emotions are there but the stakes remain low – almost borrowing the skeleton of an Imtiaz Ali film, while trading its complexity with bouts of simplicity. Therein lies the slight issue in a show that otherwise exudes of sweetness and warmth.
Story & Screenplay
Based on a book of the same name by Divya Prakash, and written by Sharanya Rajgopal, the best way to describe the first season of Musafir Cafe is a love triangle set across a gap of 8 years. This also means that there are two parallel timelines in play – even as you are introduced to Preeti (Mahima Makwana) who is the co-founder of Musafir Cafe, ably supporting her partner Chander run the place. She is a blogger who has paused her career as an author to run a business with her partner. In hindsight, her character remains similar to Chander from a different timeline – willing to prioritize love over her dreams and ambitions, even at the cost of having to give up on the latter. So basically, she remains that character who is actively living her partner’s dreams. And yet, she is also content with the knowledge of Chander being stuck in time, with his heart and mind still captured by the love of Sudha from his past.
But it is interesting on how the dynamic between Chander and Sudha forms the core of the show. She is bubbly, effervescent and ambitious – known to prioritize her goals and family members in life, over a supposed proposal of love and marriage. He is on the cusp of a new phase in life, searching for potential brides for marriage while having nursed a heartbreak previously.
And hence for Chander, Sudha feels like home (ironically, she literally shifts to his home) – the one who would essentially stay rent free in his heart and mind, a form of escapism from his usual daily routine, or someone who would impulsively book a ‘honeymoon’ trip for the weekend. Even for Sudha, it is Chander who would open his home and heart to her – the one whom she would finally enjoy sipping tea with, despite acknowledging that both of them are ‘probably’ not on the same page with regards to the concept of marriage.
The writing does touch upon and simplify the complex emotions in play – something that immediately reminded me of a show like Little Things (2016). In that sense, the era of the late 2010s holds signs of relevance too – particularly with respect to the characterizations that are simpler to comprehend. But the flip side to that argument remains on how the lack of complexity reduces the characters to stereotypical versions of themselves, so much so that we are acquainted with their emotions on the surface but not so much their psyche.
So for instance, we only get glimpses of the dreams and ambitions of Chander and Sudha, amidst their sweet and frothy love story, something that continues to offer low stakes and simplicity, even while being fairly predictable in nature. This minor criticism is a little more pronounced for say a character like Preeti, who quietly reflects on her vulnerability of losing out her love, should his ex ever make a comeback in his life. And unfortunately, that is all we get to chew on – not quite shaping her alternate personality around this conflict that is internal.
And yet, there is an inherent sweetness in a narrative that provides a natural progression of a love story between two very different individuals – each at two different timelines, transitioning from bouts of awkwardness and unfiltered brewing conversations, to heart-to-heart talks over intimate indoor coffee dates, and from the exuberance of youth to the subdued yet palpably emotional demeanor of adulthood. The transitions are seamless and affectionately intimate. Cinematically speaking, there is a hint of Meri Pyaari Bindu (2017) in play, in terms of its arc of maturity.
There is a minor deviation in the narrative with the introduction of an elderly couple, that immediately inferences the idea of finding true love at various instances of life. This holds a core relevance in the context of the drama given how each of the protagonists have found inferences of true love that remains specific to the timeframe that they co-exist in. And hence, the feeling of longing remains an undercurrent of hope – something that remains deeply suppressed in the character of Chander and Sudha, both who did not get a closure. So, the emotions towards the end land pretty well intermingling concepts of moving on with that of closure. In the same breath, the ending seemed slightly tangled and abrupt despite offering an interesting setup for the second season. But overall, the writing still beholds the sweetness of the genre while having its moments to shine.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The inherent sweetness of the screenplay, also extends to the dialogues, even with lines that deftly tingle with the soul of your heart. The softness and tenderness of the lines wonderfully play a part in elevating the impact of scenes, that heavily rely on the emotional quotient of the characters in play. The music is soulful while doing its bit to beautifully tug the strings of your heart. This, even as the BGM is slightly inconsistent in parts – despite scoring with ita emotional notes at regular instances in the drama. The cinematography beautifully encapsulates the contrasting timelines through contrasting frames of the two locations in play. You are witness to the camera being closer to the characters in the past timeline, while operating on wide shots amidst the chilly locales in the present timeline – each of which tells you a story of warmth and longing, respectively.
The editing pattern is seamless enough to intercut the two parallel timelines without compromising on the emotional core of the characters. Instead, the idea remains to show a contrast of moods that are seamless stitched across the two timelines. In the same breath, the costumes by Roshni Bose epitomizes this thought too – opting for slightly more vibrant shades in the attires of the characters in the past timeline, while mellowing the flashiness in the current timeline.
Director Ruchir Arun opts for a simplistic approach, focusing on the emotional core of the characters more than the actual characterization. As a result, the proceedings are heartfelt and breezy, without it being bogged down at any point. This, despite not fully delving into the complexities of modern relationships. And yet, the simplistic filmmaking is sensitive in nature, offering tender and gentle moments that are attuned to the genre. In that regard, the direction is pretty good.
Performances
The performances are wonderful to witness by the members of the cast. The likes of Karan Mally (he is the casting director too), Ismeet Kohli and Ashi Malviya have their moments to shine. Loveleen Misra and Anubha Fatehpuria are wonderfully understated, while ably contributing to the emotional core of the drama. Sadiya Siddiqui and Adil Hussain deliver wonderfully poignant and dignified performances, each of them showcasing bouts of tenderness and warmth to their respective characters. Rajeev Siddhartha offers a hint of longing while holding onto his one-sided love for Preeti, and in turn delivering a subtly graceful act.
Mahima Makwana as Preeti uses her body language and expressions to great effect in conveying the palpable vulnerability and insecurity of her character. Vedika Pinto as Sudha has a terrific screen presence, and her effervescent energy is something that engulfs multiple scenes. And yet, there is depth in her act that allows some rather searing emotions to land in moments of silence towards the end. She really manages to excel here while accounting for a strong emotional core along the way.
Vikrant Massey as Chander is quietly charming but slightly goes overboard in the younger version of his character. You can see that there is a hint of force applied to his expressions, that eventually land much more seamlessly later on in the narrative. And yet, the emotional core of his character is well defined – almost coming across as a different person when he doesn’t get the ‘expected’ love in return in a particular scene, to being understated and sincere in all other scenes. The arc is definitely there for all to see, and he manages to do a good job for most parts of the runtime, despite some initial hiccups.
Conclusion
Featuring fairly good performances, the debut season of Musafir Cafe radiates sweetness and warmth, delivering a comforting, leisurely love story that makes for an effortlessly bingeable watch. While the writing trades narrative complexity for simplicity and keeps the stakes consistently low – ultimately failing to steer past the stereotypes of the genre, it still succeeds in anchoring the series with genuine emotion. This balance creates a drama that is both heartfelt and frothy, offering viewers a cozy, feel-good escape where every emotional beat lands perfectly. Available on Netflix.