by Introduction
Nikkhil Advani’s new series, Freedom at Midnight, is a bold attempt to delve into the political intricacies of India’s last years under British rule. Adapted from the 1975 book Freedom at Midnight by Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins, the series aims to offer a fresh perspective on the events leading up to the 1947 independence of India. Unlike typical narratives focusing on the freedom struggle’s heroism, this season dives into the political maneuvering, backroom deals, and tense negotiations that defined this historic period. However, despite its ambition, the series is marred by certain flaws that prevent it from fully realizing its potential. Here’s an in-depth review of what works, what doesn’t, and what viewers can expect from this latest historical drama.
A Dramatic Start with Flaws
The series opens in May 1946, setting the stage just 15 months before India’s independence. From the first episode, the stakes are clear: the British are eager to leave, but the terms of their exit remain heavily contested. The Muslim League, led by Muhammad Ali Jinnah (played by Arif Zakaria), demands a separate nation of Pakistan, while the Indian National Congress, represented by Jawaharlal Nehru (Sidhant Gupta) and Vallabhbhai Patel (Rajendra Chawla), opposes any division of the country. The Viceroy of India, Lord Wavell, captures the British sentiment aptly when he says, “We want to leave desperately, but we can’t because of this deadlock.”
From the outset, Freedom at Midnight establishes its intention to explore the complex, often conflicting motivations of key historical figures. However, it falls short in its execution, largely due to inconsistent writing and an overreliance on simplistic metaphors and tropes. The infamous “soggy biscuit” metaphor early in the series is emblematic of this issue: a clever nod to the disintegration of political unity, but one that feels heavy-handed and contrived.
A Stellar Cast, but Uneven Performances
The ensemble cast is one of the series’ main strengths. Rajendra Chawla’s portrayal of Vallabhbhai Patel is a standout, presenting him as a pragmatic, no-nonsense leader trying to hold the freedom movement together amidst the clashing egos of Nehru, Jinnah, and Gandhi. Chawla’s Patel is a fascinating character—he’s depicted as more ‘Indian’ compared to Nehru and Jinnah, primarily because he speaks in Gujarati and avoids English whenever possible. This linguistic choice is a subtle but effective way to underscore Patel’s rootedness in Indian traditions, contrasting him with the more Westernized Nehru and Jinnah.
Sidhant Gupta’s Nehru, on the other hand, is portrayed as a leader struggling with the weight of expectations and the complexities of the political landscape. While Gupta captures Nehru’s idealism and occasional moments of frustration, the character feels somewhat one-dimensional, lacking the depth and nuance that history suggests.
Arif Zakaria’s portrayal of Muhammad Ali Jinnah is equally problematic. The series opts for a villainous depiction of Jinnah, leaning heavily into the trope of the manipulative politician. His scenes are often accompanied by ominous music, reinforcing a narrative that paints the Muslim League as the antagonists of the story. This is a disappointing choice, as it simplifies the complex motivations and ideological convictions of Jinnah and his followers. The depiction risks alienating viewers who are looking for a more balanced, historically accurate portrayal of the key figures involved in Partition.
The Political Chess Game: A Double-Edged Sword
Freedom at Midnight tries to emulate the style of political dramas like Spielberg’s Lincoln (2012), focusing on the behind-the-scenes negotiations rather than the frontline struggles. This approach offers a fresh take, shedding light on the less-discussed aspects of India’s independence movement. However, the show’s attempt to emulate this style often comes across as forced, with dialogue that feels stilted and overly theatrical.
A notable strength of the series is its portrayal of Viceroy Mountbatten (Luke McGibney). Initially depicted as vain and self-serving, Mountbatten undergoes a transformation over the course of the season, becoming more sympathetic and introspective. His interactions with key Indian leaders provide some of the series’ most compelling moments, offering a glimpse into the complexities of the British exit strategy. Mountbatten’s arc is a refreshing change from the usual one-dimensional portrayals of colonial officials, adding a layer of depth to the narrative.
However, the series falters when it comes to its portrayal of the communal tensions leading up to Partition. The decision to depict most of the Hindu-Muslim riots as instigated by Muslims is a glaring oversight that undermines the historical accuracy of the show. While there were indeed violent actions on both sides, Freedom at Midnight seems to simplify this aspect, painting the Muslim League with a broad brush while minimizing the role of Hindu extremism. This choice is likely to be controversial, and rightly so, as it risks distorting the viewer’s understanding of the complex communal dynamics of the time.
Technical Aspects: Style Over Substance
Visually, Freedom at Midnight is a mixed bag. The cinematography is competent, with some well-executed sequences that convey the urgency and chaos of the period. One memorable sequence in a later episode uses a lateral camera move to connect characters in different locations, a technique reminiscent of Wes Anderson’s stylistic flourishes. This innovative use of camera work adds a dynamic feel to the series, but such moments are few and far between.
On the downside, the show’s overuse of certain visual and auditory metaphors becomes tiresome. The ticking clock that appears in almost every episode is an example of this—intended to symbolize the dwindling time left before independence, it quickly becomes a cliché. Similarly, the monochrome depiction of riots, meant to obscure the identities of the attackers and victims, feels like a weak attempt at neutrality, especially given the show’s otherwise biased portrayal of communal violence.
The Season’s High Point: Episode 6
The sixth episode stands out as the most accomplished of the season. It shifts the focus to V.P. Menon (K.C. Shankar), a bureaucrat tasked with drafting the transfer of power proposal. Menon’s perspective offers a refreshing change from the political heavyweights dominating the rest of the series. As a career civil servant, Menon provides a ground-level view of the events, highlighting the role of the often-overlooked bureaucratic machinery in shaping the course of history. His growing realization of the clandestine meetings between the Muslim League and the British adds an element of intrigue and suspense to the narrative.
This episode also features some of the best writing in the series, with sharper dialogue and a more cohesive narrative structure. It offers a glimpse of what Freedom at Midnight could have been—a nuanced, multifaceted exploration of the final days of the British Raj, seen through the eyes of a diverse array of characters.
Conclusion: A Flawed but Ambitious Attempt
In its first season, Freedom at Midnight sets out to tell a lesser-known story of India’s independence, focusing on the political negotiations and backroom deals that shaped the nation’s future. While it succeeds in some areas, particularly in its portrayal of figures like Patel and Mountbatten, it stumbles in others, most notably in its oversimplified depiction of communal tensions and its reliance on clichéd metaphors.
The show’s strengths lie in its strong performances (especially by Chawla and McGibney) and its willingness to tackle the messy, unglamorous side of the independence movement. However, its weaknesses—uneven writing, a lack of balance in the portrayal of historical figures, and stylistic excesses—prevent it from being the definitive historical drama it aims to be.
As the season ends with the promise of independence but the specter of Partition looming large, it leaves viewers with mixed feelings. There’s potential here, but for the series to truly deliver on its promise in Season 2, it will need to embrace a more balanced narrative and shed its penchant for heavy-handed symbolism. The history of India’s independence is a story worth telling in all its complexity, and Freedom at Midnight still has a chance to do it justice—if it can learn from the missteps of its first season.
