latest anchor: She challenges misogyny

Strap/blurb: In an overwhelmingly macho genre of Indian crime thrillers, the timid young policewoman of seven-episode thriller series She comes like a breath of fresh air

Aradhika Sharma

The new Imtiaz Ali and Divya Johry authored TV series on Netflix — She —is being hailed as a female version of Sacred Games. That maybe accurate insofar as the series is an Indian crime thriller set in the dark underbelly of the criminal world in Mumbai with its tentacles surrounding the world of International crime, complete with its cast of the pawns, players and kingpins of the dangerous game.

However, the most remarkable thing that sets Sheapart from other crime thrillers is that whereas the genre is usually overwhelmingly macho and played out in the ultra masculine male domain, the hero is a timid young policewoman played by Aditi Pohankar. The protagonist is interested only in earning her salary to be able to support her family comprising an ailing mother and a voluptuous younger sister. They live together in a small chawl. There is nothing remarkable about Bhumi. She is ordinary. Her work is mediocre, her looks commonplace and she keeps her mouth shut, never reacting to any aggravation or insult — overt or covert — that is lobbed her way.

She is bullied by her creepy husband, her conceited sister, her co-workers, mostly men. She doesn’t trust that she has any capacity, beauty or sexuality to make any sort of mark in the world, so she doesn’t even try. She is convinced of her own weakness and so, believes that she deserves nothing better than the cards that fate has dealt for her.

Everything, however, changes when she’s picked up by the special ops division to go undercover as a sex worker to ensnare Sasya, a drug lord. A short interlude with this cocky, young criminal overturns the belief drilled into her by her husband that she is ‘thandi’(frigid). Although it strains the viewers’ logic that the fearful girl suddenly starts responding to the criminal’s not-so-romantic, rough sexual overtures, nonetheless, the episode does encourage Bhumi to start believing that there could be more to her than mere ordinariness.

The metamorphosis of Bhumi is in fact the most fascinating aspect of the series. The story is formulaic and the direction patchy, but Bhumi shines as the woman who gains strength and confidence as her once-dormant femininity gets awakened. The process of her getting strengthened professionally, runs alongside her increasing ease with using her sexuality as a tool for seducing men. As Bhumi dons makeup and trashy clothes, so does her persona change — from a timorous little kitten — into a sleek, defiant, hissing feline creature, who, full of assurance in her own infallibility, proves to be an irresistible honey pot for hardened predators.

The most convincing statement that She makes is of Bhumi becoming more assertive in life as she gains control of her own sexuality. For the rest, the seven-episode series is an interesting-enough police procedural, but one hopes to see a more compelling plot and controlled direction in the season 2 than She– season 1 had to offer.