The Fame Game Series Review: Madhuri Dixit in a cursory showbiz drama 

The Fame Game begins with a question: “What is it like being Anamika Anand?” The answer that comes is quick and cautious. “It’s nice…I feel blessed…my fans love me...my family’s with me.” The exteriority of film stars is an open secret. What’s disappointing, therefore, is the lack of a follow-up question on the journalist’s part.

Anamika Anand is living a lie. Those around her—the press, the public—tend to take her at face value. It’s some face—played by a radiant Madhuri Dixit in her series debut. Her character, much like the star herself, is a model of actorly grace and dignity. She is kind to fans (when they stop her car outside a studio, she steps out to dance with them). Her family life is equally impeccable. She is an ideal mother, wife, daughter. Her humility spreads in all directions. She’s so perfect that when a real name is given—Vijju Joshi—it sounds incredible. 

Cast: Madhuri Dixit, Sanjay Kapoor, Manav Kaul, Muskkaan Jaferi, Rajshri Deshpande, Lakshvir Saran

Creator: Sri Rao

One day, Anamika disappears, leaving behind a trail of clues. The police press in on her family. Her husband, Nikhil, is a producer—it’s smart to have Sanjay Kapoor, one of Madhuri’s oldest co-stars, in this gauche and brutish role. Their kids—a troubled boy and an aspiring-actress girl—are well-cast, and Suhasini Mulay is intriguing as Anamika’s cold, micromanaging mother. But the suspicion also falls outside the domestic realm. Anamika was in the midst of shooting a comeback. She’d got Manish Khanna—an ex-flame played by Manav Kaul—to star with her. Their movie, in comically antiquated fashion, is called Hasrat, the title enough to keep jumpy distributors at bay.  

The Fame Game is a Dharma offering—a joke in itself. The banner has represented the status quo for so long that it’s hard to take its disclosures seriously. We get the usual truisms: husbands marry superstar wives for financial gain, producers funnel illegal money in and out of projects, magazines and portals publish intrusive gossip for views. Terms like ‘Filmfare awards’, ‘onscreen chemistry’ and ‘content-driven’ are strewn across the dialogue (the show is written by Sri Rao, Shreya Bhattacharya, Akshat Ghildial, Nisha Mehta and Amita Vyas; Rao is the creator). Anamika’s downfall is blamed on shifting trends, not on an industry antithetical to maturing female stars.

A slightly better track is of her daughter, Amara (Muskkaan Jaferi). Early on, she complains that unlike her mother, she isn’t ‘glamorous’—a word she’s likely clung to from childhood. The young girl’s struggle with self-image makes for some absorbing drama. Yet, as the show progresses, it’s turned into an apology for ambitious star kids (with the Dharma association, it feels more disingenuous).

Over eight episodes, the series mines the Madhuri mythos: we see clips from her earlier films, and there are awards and portraits on a wall. The actor herself remains coolly detached. The parallels are plenty, yet nothing to suggest a personal reckoning with the material (it’s silly, really, to even expect it). The Fame Game leaves us with this bitter lesson. Vijju, Anamika, Madhuri — they’re equally unknowable.