Accused

We’ve spent the last decade watching the "hero" archetype get dismantled, but there’s something particularly stinging about seeing a pioneer fall. In the current landscape of 2026 cinema, where representation is no longer just a checkbox but a complex, often messy reality, Anubhuti Kashyap’s Accused arrives like a cold compress to a fever. It’s a thriller that doesn't just ask "did she do it?" but rather, "what do we do with her if she did?"

The film centers on Dr. Geetika Sen, played with a serrated edge by the incomparable Konkona Sen Sharma. Geetika is a titan—a queer Indian doctor who has conquered the London medical scene, a woman whose very existence is a victory for several marginalized groups at once. But when an allegation of sexual misconduct surfaces, that victory curdles. I found myself gripped not by the procedural beats, but by the suffocating atmosphere of a high-status life suddenly under a microscope. It’s a very "now" story, reflecting our obsession with public accountability and the terrifying speed at which a curated legacy can be incinerated by a single headline.

The Weight of the Gaze

The brilliance of the screenplay by Sima Agarwal and Yash Keshwani lies in how it pivots. This isn't just Geetika’s story; it’s Meera’s. Pratibha Ranta, who I’ve been rooting for since her breakout turns, gives a performance here that is all internal tremors. As Geetika’s wife, she is the audience’s surrogate, forced to sift through the debris of a marriage that was supposed to be a sanctuary. The chemistry between Konkona Sen Sharma and Ranta is brittle and honest. There is a scene in their kitchen—lit by Linesh Desai with a cold, clinical blue—where the silence between them feels like a third character in the room.

I watched this on my laptop while my cooling fan was making a sound like a tiny jet engine, and weirdly, that mechanical whirring added to the industrial, detached feeling of the film’s London setting. The film treats London like a sterile IKEA catalog for the elite, which works perfectly to highlight how disconnected Geetika has become from the "real world" her patients inhabit. It’s a drama that understands that in 2026, your greatest enemy isn't the law; it's the doubt in the eyes of the person sharing your bed.

A New Kind of Modern Noir

Director Anubhuti Kashyap—who previously showed us she could handle "messy" medicine in Doctor G (2022)—sheds the humor here for something much more obsidian. She leans into the "streaming era" aesthetic—crisp, high-contrast, and deeply focused on faces. The supporting cast fills out the world with varying shades of suspicion. Sukant Goel as Mansoor Ali is particularly effective, playing a character who seems to represent the collective judgment of a society that was just waiting for a reason to tear Geetika down. Aditya Nanda and Mashhoor Amrohi provide the necessary tension as the legal and social walls close in, while Monica Mahendru adds a layer of corporate coldness that feels all too familiar in the post-pandemic, HR-dominated workplace.

What I appreciated most was the refusal to make Geetika an easy victim. Konkona Sen Sharma plays her with an intellectual arrogance that makes you want to turn away even as you sympathize. She’s not "likable" in the traditional sense, and in an era where we often demand our protagonists be perfect avatars of their identities, that feels like a radical choice. The pacing in the second act drags like a wet wool coat, almost losing the thriller momentum in favor of repetitive domestic arguments, but the tension usually recovers just before you reach for your phone.

Behind the Curtains of the Controversy

Produced by Karan Johar’s Dharmatic Entertainment, Accused carries that signature high-gloss finish we’ve come to expect from the studio’s Netflix-adjacent output. However, it feels more grounded than their usual fare. Interestingly, the production had to navigate a series of logistical hurdles in London, including a brief period of local filming restrictions that forced the crew to get creative with tight, claustrophobic interior shots. This actually serves the film’s themes of entrapment brilliantly—sometimes the best creative choices are born from a budget or a permit crisis.

Another bit of trivia for the craft nerds: the score by Neel Adhikari is almost entirely devoid of traditional "thriller" strings. Instead, it uses distorted medical equipment sounds and low-frequency hums. It’s subtle enough that you might not notice it consciously, but it kept my heart rate consistently north of 80 bpm. It’s a testament to how far Indian-led global productions have come in terms of technical sophistication. We aren't just telling these stories anymore; we are deconstructing them with surgical precision.

Accused is a sharp, if occasionally sluggish, look at the cost of being a pioneer when the world decides it’s time for a change of pace. It doesn't offer easy answers, and it certainly won't make you feel comfortable. But in a sea of franchise noise and safe bets, watching Konkona Sen Sharma navigate a moral minefield is more than enough reason to hit play. It’s a film that understands that in our current moment, the truth is often less important than who survives the telling of it.