The third season of the Karan Johar-produced Fabulous Lives of Bollywood Wives dropped on Netflix, but articles criticising the show appear in some news site or the other almost daily. If it is so bad, why keep writing about it? And if it is so bad, why would the superpowers at Netflix, who are harder to meet than the prime minister, commission the show season after season?
FLBW features four wives of actors or former actors from the Hindi film industry. Bhavana Panday is married to the actor Chunky Panday. She is also mum to the young and acclaimed Ananya Panday, who has had a series of hits in recent years. Neelam, another fabulous lifer, herself was a major female lead in her time. She is married to actor Samir Soni and has a daughter with him. Seema Khan was married to actor and producer Sohail Khan and has two children with him. Maheep Kapoor is married to Sanjay Kapoor and has two children with him; her daughter Shanaya just signed her first film.
All these players live in Bandra, the most expensive pin code in Mumbai and the mecca of Bollywood. In fact, it is said that your success in Bollywood is determined by how close to Mannat, Shah Rukh Khan’s bungalow in Bandra, you can afford to live in.
A poster of the third season of the show
The commentary on these women is misogynistic and downright offensive. “Who are they?” ask several writers. “Vacuous”, “foolish”, “frivolous”, “thakela” (loosely translates as ‘has-beens’) and “nobodies” are frequently used to describe them. One article even dished out their educational qualifications. I mean, were you interested in a reality show on Nobel laureates? Does anyone want to see Abhijit Banerjee or Annie Ernaux go shopping at Dior and Balenciaga, or perhaps take a dip in a swimming pool?
A reality show is nothing but a show where people are continuously filmed for entertainment. Their lives need to be glamorous and aspirational for the audience to gawk and continue gawking. By this definition alone, FLBW is top notch.
A recent interview has revealed how this show came to be. Johar was travelling to Delhi for a sombre funeral with the four fabulous lifers. Turbulence caused a minor comedy routine with two of them shrieking and one of them applying lipstick, because she wanted to look good in case of an emergency landing. Johar thought the riotous women would make for a wildly funny show, and hence the show. The scenes showing their ignorance of celebrated artist Anish Kapoor or mispronunciations of cricket star Shubman Gill are hilarious. These “nobodies” got Johar interested. These “vacuous lives” got the legendary Shah Rukh Khan, gazillionaire vaccine makers Adar and Natasha Poonawala, and heavyweight artists Subodh Gupta and Bharti Kher to appear as extras in the show. Clearly, the girls got something right.
As a journalist and commentator, I have watched these women for 25 years. They are absolutely true to their versions on the show. Bhavana is sensible, grounded and mature. Maheep is beautiful and sassy. Neelam is pretty, posh and coy. Seema is the one you want to be shooting Jaegerbombs with.
Each one has taken their life’s stories, happy or challenging, and come out stronger. They have found a comfortable spot for themselves with their families and in their careers. Most importantly, they look so chic while they are at it.
But the show is also about the friendship of these four women. And how they have anchored each other through life’s ups and downs. When life throws one a lemon, the others arrive with tequila. Friendships like theirs are enviable—if you have an inner circle like this, consider it a lottery.
@namratazakaria