LESS IS MORE

Barzakh, a six-episode mini-series directed by Asim Abbasi, stands out as a bold departure from conventional Pakistani television. Airing on Zee and featuring an ensemble cast, including Fawad Khan, Sanam Saeed, Salman Shahid, and Khushal Khan, the series ventures into the relatively unexplored genre of mystery and fantasy, set against the mesmerizing backdrop of the mountains.

One of the most striking aspects of Barzakh is its setting. Unlike most Pakistani TV serials deeply rooted in urban landscapes, Barzakh draws the audience into the mystic and ethereal world of the mountains. This change in scenery provides a refreshing visual experience and enhances the narrative’s otherworldly theme. The cinematography is stunning, with every frame meticulously crafted to draw the viewer deeper into the story’s mystical ambiance. Much care and attention have been paid to the visual elements, making the series a feast for the eyes.

The narrative of Barzakh is as intriguing as its setting. The story revolves around Jafar, also known as Aaqa, who is determined to marry his deceased lover. What seems like a delusion gradually unravels into a complex tale of the connection between the real world and the unknown. Jafar invites his two sons back home for his third wedding, and it is through their eyes that the audience is introduced to this mysterious plot. Each episode focuses on one character’s story, slowly peeling back the layers of the narrative and building the suspense.

However, while the premise of Barzakh is undoubtedly ambitious and refreshing for the Pakistani screen, the execution leaves something to be desired. The series attempts to weave multiple subplots into its narrative, each heavy with its thematic weight. But instead of adding depth, these subplots often feel overwhelming, burdening the viewer with too much information in too little time. This heavy-handed approach can make the viewing experience feel cumbersome as if the series is trying to do too much at once without giving the audience enough time to grasp each storyline fully.

Another area where Barzakh struggles is in its dialogue delivery. The actors, while seasoned and talented, seem to be delivering their lines in a manner that feels oddly out of place in a Pakistani setting. The intonation and structure of the Urdu dialogues often come across as more suited to American banter, which creates a dissonance that can pull the viewer out of the immersive experience the series is otherwise trying to create. This forced emoting style diminishes the characters’ authenticity, making it difficult for the audience to fully connect with them.

In conclusion, Barzakh is a commendable attempt at pushing the boundaries of Pakistani television, exploring genres and themes rarely touched upon in the industry. Its breathtaking cinematography and intriguing plot offer a welcome change from the norm. However, the series is weighed down by its convoluted script and the unnatural delivery of its dialogues. While Barzakh is undoubtedly a step in the right direction, it serves as a reminder that sometimes, less is more. It could have been a true game-changer if the series had been more focused and grounded in its cultural context. As it stands, Barzakhis is an exciting experiment that doesn’t quite reach its full potential.