Barzakh Review: Pakistani actor Fawad Khan stands out in a puzzling tale of love and longing

Asim Abbasi's much awaited mini series Barzakh has finally landed on Zee5 Global. Written and directed by Abbasi himself, and produced by Shailja Kejriwal, the show stars Fawad Khan, Sanam Saeed and M. Fawad Khan with Khushhal Khan, Sajid Hasan, Salman Shahid, Nighat Choudhry and Uzma Beg. Set in the fictional "Land of Nowhere" crusty old, Jaffar Khanzada (Salman Shahid) is about to marry for third time. A mad king of sorts, his earlier two wives have died and he now insists that he is about to marry the "everlasting" love of his life, Mehtab, who has been dead for 60 years. His two sons Sheheryar (Fawad Khan) and Saifullah (M. Fawad Khan) have travelled in to visit him and Khanzada's assistant Scheherzaade (Sanam Saeed) takes the audience and the characters on a mysterious, spiritual journey that revolves around the themes of love, capitalism, mysticism and romanticism.

Ensconced in the gorgeous backdrops of Pakistan's northwestern mountains and valleys, Barzakh immediately sets the tone for an otherworldly experience. Rife with metaphors and allegories, the story is a distant cry from Asim Abbasi's previous work such as Churails and Cake, which was deeply rooted in practical tales with larger-than- life characters. In Barzakh, Abbasi borrows from Aronofsky and Bergman's symbolism and creates his own unique take in a Pakistani context. He picks up the classic themes of naked capitalism, usurping of land, the loss of love and soul, creating new bonds and how sometimes life leaves us bitter and crass as Khanzada has become. Scheherzaade introduces him to us (and his sons) and the mystifying world of Barzakh. There are also slight shades of Wes Anderson's style, where the protagonists are cooped in a colourful sanctuary that will eventually reveal a deeper tale.

Mo Azmi's photography is as stunning as it comes; his use of the right grade for each scene, where set pieces speak to you quietly but they subtly create a rich fabric for Abbasi to weave his tale. Most frames are like Renaissance paintings coming alive. Abbasi chooses wardrobe like a resort collection mastermind, featuring rich deep colours that make you immediately feel warmth but the expansive valleys and empty fields conflict with the comfort he's set you up for. He also suffocates the viewer in the closer frames when he wants to invoke frustration and isolation. Abbasi aims to make you understand life's paradoxes, perhaps, as he begins his story with a naive and young couple promising their love to each other but life has other plans and money and death mar the romanticism, as tragedies go.

Barzakh's most stunning feature, however, is Fawad Khan, who, in his limited screentime, manages to take your breath away. Whether it's the simple glance or one of his classic smirks, Khan makes the mundane special and the special — spectacular. Armed with great comedic timing, expressive eyes and a masterful control over his voice, the few scenes he features in are the highlight of the show. You leave the episode wanting more of Fawad's presence rather than the allegorical tales told in broken parts. Sanam Saeed provides the gravitas the absurd premise of the story badly needs. Saeed's voice travels through the story, going from strength to strength as she helps a struggling and increasingly maddening Khanzada. The third most (but not necessarily in terms of how good he was) profound element in the episode is the presence of Sajid Hasan as Lumberdaar, who is also Khanzada's brother, reminding Khanzada to do the right thing, emerging as the voice of conscience in what is increasingly beginning to feel like a world devoid of morals.