I have only watched a handful of Marathi daily dramas, and one or two Hindi, so I can't say which language has better content on the whole.
Marathi serials might be slower-paced typically, with characters' goals and personalities remaining the same for months. This is good if you want to see a couple progressing believably from friends to lovers to spouses to parents, and not inexplicably drawn to each other in spite of misogyny, violence, harassment, kidnapping, revenge, scandal, betrayal etc. However, the longer a Marathi show runs, the more I wonder, what was the point of today's episode? He makes bad tea or good street food, she gets a makeover, supporting characters insult each other as "comedy" ... writers run out of ideas fast!
In the past year, Sundarā Manāmadhe Bharalī has tried to generate excitement with bombs, murder by inhaler deprivation, men disguised as women, attempted murder by barn fire, woman-scorned-fakes-rape-attempt, murder by unnoticed public stabbing ... a total waste of a show that used to be enjoyable when it was the story of an athletic man falling in love with a plus-sized woman and slowly, slowly convincing her that he loves her and she can change her expectations because he's lovable too. As of this week, it's the story of a sports-obsessed five-year-old second-grader (?) being bullied by 100 children and a few school staff too.
I can enjoy family dynamics when there's a plot, such as the stepmother trying to get a windfall from her stepdaughter's rich in-laws (Hoṇāra Sūna Mī Hyā Gharacī), one sister agreeing to a double wedding while the other sister was about to dump her boyfriend (Nāndā Saukhya Bhare), the petulant sister-in-law trying to ruin the honeymoon by telling the bookworm wife that her husband is illiterate (Tujhyāta Jīva Raṅgalā), the lonely little sister whose brother and sister-in-law think the worst of each other (Jīva Zhālā Yeḍāpisā), or the father forbidding his son to risk his life competing against the MLA's son (Sundarā Manāmadhe Bharalī). Along with these plots on Marathi serials, you can find the same filler as Hindi serials: lying about his favourite vegetable, painting a line to divide the house, sabotaging the meal with extra salt ...
These days, it seems that wherever I look, I find forced marriage as the premise for a love story. Three years ago, the only example I knew of forced marriage on a Marathi daily drama was from 1873 - the historical biography Uṃça Māzhā Zhokā. This could be Hindi TV influencing Marathi TV.
On the Marathi shows that I've watched, the sets look like homes, not hotel lobbies. Instead of all the rooms being connected by tall archways and shiny marble floors, rich characters on Marathi shows may greet guests in a second-floor living room, or in the courtyard of a vāḍā with a central tuḷaśī-vṛndāvana, while middle-class families may have a swing-seat next to the front door, or a living room where the grandmother makes her bed every night ...
On Hindi shows, it seems that all of the women, regardless of social status, wear gaudy sarees or dresses, enormous heavy earrings, plenty of eye-makeup, bright lipstick, and multi-string jewellery. And the heroine does this to mope about the house all day, waiting for her angry husband to talk to her. She never goes out to work. On Marathi shows, you might find the grandmother wearing a nine-yard saree, the homemaker mother and sister-in-law wearing everyday-use sarees, the heroine going to work (regularly!) in the same Panjabi suits that she wore before marriage, and all of the women wearing minimal makeup and jewellery, even for parties. They wear nicer clothes and delicate jewellery for religious holidays and pūjā.
Whenever I have caught a prayer scene on a Hindi daily drama, there is loud music, sometimes lip-synched, and someone's life is in danger. On some Marathi shows, prayer is a daily routine - as simple as bowing to the shrine on a kitchen shelf before heading out for business. On Jīva Zhālā Yeḍāpisā, I loved that the father, daughter, and daughter-in-law would sit together and sing abhaṅgas, while the son stood in the door every time, listening but not joining. Without any dialogue, these scenes conveyed the man's growing awareness that the woman who had ruined his life belonged in his family more than he did.
I agree with you that money can solve problems and buy peace of mind, the key to happiness. However, Jayadev on Ābhāḷācī Māyā has no problems that aren't self-imposed with full awareness of what would happen. Paying his sister's abusive father-in-law to keep her is just one more self-sacrifice to prove how totally he loves his sister. I haven't watched any Tamil daily dramas and I won't make a generalization, but Ābhāḷācī Māyā is said to be a word-for-word copy of Vāṉattaip Pōla, and I've never seen an original Marathi show that is so blindly devoted to regressive ideals, it outdoes Hindi TV!
Forced marriages aren't for shock value on Ābhāḷācī Māyā; they're the norm. You have a boyfriend? Well, the family elders want you to marry your cousin, and I already promised without consulting you, so be a good girl! It is a foregone conclusion that the village hoodlum who tried to trick the girl into marriage, threatened to kill himself, kidnapped her with intent to rape, and might be on his way back to jail for framing the tahasiladāra will reform as soon as the girl is promised to him. And the credit goes to the girl's brother.
Paternalism isn't a source of intergenerational conflict on Ābhāḷācī Māyā; it's expected of a good brother that when his sister, echoing her aunt/mother-in-law, says that she's unhappy in the abusive marriage and wants him to rescue her, he disowns her so that he won't distract her from every woman's calling - her marriage.
I know superstitious Marathi people in real life, and one who was a skeptic until she needed astrology as a source of income, but these characters on Ābhāḷācī Māyā are beyond self-deceiving! When the astrologer says, this cousin-marriage will be deadly, they beg him to prescribe penance, and the girl eats unpalatable food, starves herself, stands all night, walks on coals ... rather than admit that she doesn't want to marry him anyway. After the marriage, the astrologer says that you can't change the stars; widowhood is no longer a certainty, but the couple is still headed for a lifetime of trouble, and the sister and brother will surely be torn apart until she arranges his cousin-marriage too!
In contrast with this, astrology on original Marathi serials is as simple as asking Gurujī for a wedding date. Domestic violence is no more than a slap when the aggressor is in agony for a loved one's life or reputation, and even then it is condemned. Alcohol is absent unless a villain abuses it or a sympathetic character needs to overcome addiction.
On Marathi TV, the male protagonist is typically as perfect as the female protagonist: hard-working, responsible, ethical, respectful, gentle, willing to adjust, loving, faithful ... I find this more believable for a couple to succeed than the outrageous male and straitlaced female formula that I've seen on Hindi TV. Still, there's a lot of room for improvement regarding gender role stereotypes on Marathi TV - for example, females don't need to blush ... they should flirt too ... there should be same-sex couples ...
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