The first season of Maamla Legal Hai ended with Advocate Visheshwar D. Tyagi (Ravi Kishan) being told how exciting it is to be a judge, especially during the announcement of a verdict. By the end of the second season, Tyagi, now the Principal District Judge of Patparganj District Court, realizes that the role of a judge is not what it's hyped up to be. What's more, this realization occurs while he is announcing a verdict. Talk about irony.
At its core, Maamla Legal Hai is about exposing the justice system's "reality." The show implies that judges face constant scrutiny from their colleagues. Tyagi is asked to retake his oath because he coughs at a crucial point and is labeled "biased" when he looks at a lawyer and smiles. It also highlights how foyer lawyers occupy a lower position on the ladder of respect (they argue in long queues to charge their mobile phones, and declaring a condolence day for a deceased foyer lawyer is considered unjustified).
What do bored judges do for entertainment? Apparently, they don't mind playing a game of pen fight to distract themselves from watching a couple of uninteresting short films. Beyond signing bail orders and death sentences, judges also put their signatures on documents concerning seemingly trivial matters, such as what type of lock should be placed on a particular gate.
Basically, it isn't easy to be either a judge or a lawyer. Tyagi does more than simply sit on his chair, listen to arguments, and casually pass an order. He must assess cases with great responsibility and logic to avoid delivering flawed judgments. His only major flaw emerges in Episode 8, when he struggles to maintain professional distance from a murder case involving a 24-year-old culprit. This leads to an emotional breakdown and a significant professional shift.
Tyagi is, at heart, an emotional individual. Unlike other judges who prefer to maintain a cold distance from lawyers, he openly laughs and celebrates with his friends and coworkers. Initially, his vanity and openness land him in trouble, as he is perceived as biased. Yet Tyagi also knows how to overcome obstacles with his sharp mind—a mind he uses both to save his skin and to make the right decisions. It helps that the character is played by Kishan, who infuses Tyagi with a childish streak as well as the sensibilities of a mature adult. In this judge, the comic figure coexists with a responsible, emotional gentleman.
It shouldn't be surprising, then, that Tyagi blends seamlessly into a show that operates at the extreme ends of humor and seriousness. Maamla Legal Hai often resembles a fluffy, sitcom-like cartoon until it suddenly decides to preach to the audience. If these tonal shifts don't feel too jarring, it may be because the constant emotional highs gradually numb the viewer—they mute the senses. The sounds slowly morph into monotonous noise, and the dialogue trades wit for hand-holding obviousness.
It isn't enough for the series to depict a male lawyer as a victim of sexual harassment; it also inserts a line about how difficult it must be for ordinary citizens to get justice in an environment where someone working within the court system is unable to protect himself. The visuals suffer from the same lack of subtlety. It isn't enough for a lawyer to tease that commercials should start targeting children with harmful products; the series immediately cuts to a shot of a child playing on a mobile phone. In another scene, a man scoffs at teenagers for listening to hip-hop music—and sure enough, a boy begins rapping with a radio on his shoulders.
On the other hand, it would be unfair to dismiss Maamla Legal Hai entirely. One episode deals with a boy who idolizes gangsters. A predictable way to deliver a "big message" would have been to reform him the moment he sees his idol washing utensils in Tihar. But the show, at least, avoids such simplicity. Instead, it replaces one crooked role model with another crooked role model and crosses its fingers, hoping that the education system will eventually help the boy recognize better ideals. The show can only hope, because academic education alone does not necessarily make someone intelligent—a fact that feels especially evident today, considering the choices many "educated people" have made in fields such as politics and entertainment.
I also appreciated how Mintu's (Anjum Batra) flirtatious text messages initially carry the weight of a humorous prank but gradually reveal a vulnerable divorcee simply looking for lifelong companionship. Batra wins you over with the smile he gives after being stood up on a date, particularly when he notices the new name of his chamber.
The actors appear more comfortable this season, as though they have synchronized themselves with the show's wavelength. Still, Kishan overshadows the rest to some extent, which makes him linger more strongly in the viewer's head. Kusha Kapila is a capable actor and an excellent comedian, which makes it disappointing to see her talents wasted. The one performer I struggled with was Anant V Joshi, whose exaggerated gestures during a sting operation proved unbearable. Dinesh Lal Yadav, playing a customer suing a company for manufacturing a faulty deodorant, is comparatively more convincing here. Through this storyline, Maamla Legal Hai touches on themes of greedy corporations and expired products, though the treatment feels generic at best.
Even the rivalry between Ananya (Naila Grrewal) and Nayana (Kapila) is largely unremarkable. The one memorable moment it produces is Nayana's line: "I will crush you under my Jimmy Choos." Had Kapila been given a more substantial role, the words might have turned out to be true.
The phrase "ripped from the headlines" applies quite aptly to this show—the headlines themselves appear at the end of each episode. The signal is clear: the real world is so chaotic and absurd that, without proof, incidents such as rats consuming cannabis or a conman posing as a judge for months would seem too implausible even for fiction. If Maamla Legal Hai were a person, it would open the morning newspaper and laugh at the headlines. This attitude is largely devoid of cynicism. It recognizes the broken system but chooses to laugh at it because reality itself appears ludicrous. This is precisely why the emotional scenes sometimes feel strange—they perform a U-turn on the show's "why so serious?" philosophy in an attempt to move the audience. It is a questionable decision, though not quite a dealbreaker. Ultimately, despite its flaws, Maamla Legal Hai remains watchable. It may not qualify as high art, but it is not complete rubbish either.
Final Score- [5.5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times