Author: DA Gadgets

Whether
it’s
cinema,
television,
standup
performances,
or
the
millions
of
memes
plaguing
the
Internet,
the
stereotypical
Indian
family
has
always
been
an
object
of
ridicule.
The
moms
are
too
controlling,
food
is
uncontrollably
spicy,
curfews
are
annoying,
privacy
is
obsolete,
academic
excellence
flows
through
generations,
and
well…
the
list
is
too
long
to
summarise
here.
But
if
you
want
a
catalogue
of
these,
Prime
Video
might
have
just
what
you’re
looking
for.
Its
latest
series,
The
Pradeeps
of
Pittsburgh,
is
an
unhinged
compilation
of
these
comical
familial
laws
that
Indians
supposedly
stick
to
and
gives
an
unabashed
228-minute-long
commentary
on
the
same.

The
show
also
adressess
the
awkward
nature
of
conversations
around
intimacy
in
Indian
families

The
eight-episode-long
series
follows
a
typical
Indian
family,
The
Pradeeps,
who
have
moved
to
Pittsburgh
in
the
United
States
––
the
land
of
opportunities,
as
they
call
it.
The
family
is
headed
by
Mahesh,
the
optimistic
engineer
father
who
made
everyone
move
across
the
planet
for
a
SpaceX
contract,
and
Sudha,
the
brain-surgeon
mother
who’s
having
a
hard
time
getting
her
medical
license
in
the
strict-on-rules
new
land.
The
kids
include
teenager
Bhanu,
the
eldest
daughter
who
is
desperate
to
fit
in
the
new
culture;
Kamal,
an
introverted
and
shy
young
man
with
a
bunch
of
phobias;
and
Vinod,
an
optimistic
junior
high
schooler
who
views
the
world
through
his
rose-tinted
glasses
and
stays
positive
even
when
being
bullied.

This,
however,
isn’t
merely
a
story
of
an
Indian
family
having
a
tough
time
adjusting
to
a
foreign
land.
The
Pradeeps
are
also
the
prime
suspects
in
an
ongoing
investigation
over
a
mysterious
crime
involving
their
Christian
neighbours
––
revealed
later
in
the
show.
Now
under
the
scanner
of
immigration
services,
the
family
is
being
interrogated
over
the
serious
crime,
with
a
possible
risk
of
deportation
looming.

The
entire
series
is
a
sequence
of
flashback
narratives
with
the
two
officers
in
charge
trying
to
break
these
tough
nuts
into
confessing.
The
Pradeeps
are
confronted
in
groups,
trios,
couples,
and
even
in
isolation,
but
the
brown
family
couldn’t
be
more
disinterested,
let
alone
be
intimidated,
by
the
colourful
investigative
tactics.

The
show
is
driven
by
the
nonchalance
of
its
characters
and
their
wildly
different
perspectives
for
every
incident.
While
Sudha
might
recall
a
snowstorm
causing
their
car
to
slide
in
slow
motion
before
bursting
into
flames
––
“We
Indians
like
to
add
a
little
masala
to
our
stories”
is
how
she’d
justify
the
exaggeration
––
Mahesh
would
describe
the
same
day
as
a
positive
one
that
brought
a
fresh
start
to
their
lives.
The
oscillating
narratives
extend
to
the
neighbours
as
well,
who
have
their
own
twisted
versions,
adding
to
the
confusion.

Every
version
seems
to
be
the
revelatory
truth
until
the
next
person
drops
in
with
a
totally
opposite
version.
The
show
even
attempts
to
portray
the
humorous
similarities
between
Indian
mothers
and
religious
Christian
mothers
at
one
point.

The
episodes
are
short,
crisply
written,
and
transition
effortlessly.
The
overall
tone
stays
light
and
humorous.
Even
when
dealing
with
grave
themes
like
racism,
the
show
doesn’t
turn
serious
at
any
point.
Pradeeps
of
Pittsburgh
chugs
along
like
a
mindless
high-school
drama
where
the
protagonists
haven’t
yet
met
the
harsher
realities
of
life.

Ashwin’s
character
is
fascinated
by
the
comfortable
lives
of
US
garbagemen,
contrasting
with
their
malnourished
counterparts
in
his
home
country

The
show,
however,
comes
with
a
string
of
overly
used
stereotypes
and
controversial
dialogues
and
analogies
that
might
offend
a
certain
people.
For
instance,
in
one
scene,
Bhanu
describes
India
as
a
“supermodel
with
diarrhoea”.
Her
explanation?
Well,
the
country
is
beautiful
to
look
at
but
doesn’t
offer
much
to
a
female
teenager
because
of
societal
restrictions
and
curfews.
In
another
scene,
we
see
a
disabled
white
kid
mocking
a
500
rupee
note
and
calling
Gandhi
an
anorexic
Charlie
Brown.
There
are
also
references
to
a
shy
Indian
boy
getting
aroused
after
brushing
past
a
cow
udder.
No
wonder
the
series
isn’t
being
aggressively
publicised
in
India.

While
a
little
harmless
humour
doesn’t
hurt,
when
a
show
is
premiering
globally,
it
comes
with
the
responsibility
of
balancing
representation
to
some
extent.
While
I
am
not
exactly
calling
for
a
monochromatic
picture
with
just
the
nation’s
achievements,
or
a
singularly
patriotic
narrative
that
paints
the
country
as
the
greatest
on
the
planet
––
let’s
leave
that
to
our
supremely
talented
politicians
––
a
little
more
sensitivity
could
have
gone
a
long
way.
I
don’t
want
to
dig
up
the
debate
about
art
and
cinema
influencing
the
audience’s
perspective,
but
for
viewers
who
have
never
visited
India,
these
representations
can
build
a
certain
narrative.
As
someone
who
lives
in
the
country
in
question,
I
can
assure
you
we
don’t
get
ready
in
glittery
sarees
and
sherwanis
just
to
go
out
for
a
plate
of

panipuri,
as
the
Pradeeps
might
have
you
believe.

The
Pradeeps
of
Pittsburgh
isn’t
the
first
American
show
to
opt
for
this
ill-informed
portrayal.
The
Big
Bang
Theory,
perhaps
one
of
the
most
popular
sitcoms
of
its
time,
resorted
to
certain
harmful
stereotypes
about
Indians,
too.
Raj,
one
of
the
main
characters
in
the
show,
couldn’t
speak
to
women,
relied
on
his
father
for
his
expenses,
and
sought
to
control
his
sister’s
love
life
––
justifying
his
actions
with
ancient
scriptures
that
declare
women
as
a
property
of
her
father
or
brother.
All
this
despite
being
a
gifted
astrophysicist
and
a
man
of
science.
It’s
time
we
left
these
stereotypical
representations
in
the
last
century,
where
they
belong,
and
opt
for
a
more
realistic
portrayal.

The
Pradeeps
of
Pittsburgh,
however,
works
as
light-hearted
comedy
about
the
familiar
troubles
of
the
Indian
diaspora
in
the
US
––
nothing
more.
The
show
is
full
of
brain-rotting
and
superficial
jokes
around
sex,
religion,
parenting,
and
everything
brown,
and
while
some
stereotypes
are
exaggerated
beyond
reason,
an
Indian
audience
will
easily
find
moments
of
relatability.
But
if
you’re
easily
offended,
or
often
finds
yourself
engaged
in
heated
arguments
on
Twitter
(yes,
we
know
it’s
called
X
now)
with
strangers,
and
have
a
keen
interest
in
cancel
culture,
you
should
probably
skip
this
one.
That
being
said,
I
love
my
nation
dearly.
Please
don’t
cancel
me
for
recommending
this
series.

Rating:
6/10