Netflix’s greatest achievement Delhi crime lies in how the show disrupts the treatment of female stereotypes in crime novels. While it tends to glorify Delhi’s very real police, which have a contented relationship with activists and student protesters in the city, the show itself can be considered one of the best-crafted policing of recent times. Season two may lack the same depth and finesse as season one, but it’s just as gritty and enjoyable.
Written and directed by Richie Mehta, the first season (which won an International Emmy for Outstanding Drama Series) focuses on the aftermath of the horrific 2012 Delhi attack. The show meticulously builds the formidable hero cop DCP Vartika Chaturvedi (played by Shefali Shah) as he attempts to delve into the psyche of men who commit horrific crimes against women. With its second season directed by Tanuj Chopra, the show further probes the psychology of criminals and prejudice held up by the upper echelons of Indian society, widening the divide between the economic classes. From dismantling notions of the “perfect victim” in the first season, the second season attempts to reject preconceived and classic constructs of “born criminal”.
From survivors of abuse to perpetrators of violence and arbiters of justice – the three pillars of any good crime drama – Delhi crime does a great job of getting rid of the typical tropes associated with female characters in crime fiction, even in the second season.
Shefali Shah’s Hero Cop Returns
In season two, the character of the corrupt cop Viren Chaddha acts as a defender of Vartika Chaturvedi’s good cop. Chaddha is not only a bigot, but he is also bad at his job. He spends most of his time chasing imaginary phantoms made up by his bigotry rather than investigating the case. He arrests members of denoted tribes, who were considered “born criminals” by British colonialists. This practice began with the Criminal Tribes Act of 1871 and was not repealed by the independent Indian government until 1992. Although the laws have changed, the stigma remains, as depicted on the show.
Chaddha’s character symbolizes everything that is wrong with the police. Once his character achieves its goal and is expelled from the investigation, Shah’s Chaturvedi takes over. Shah started her journey in the Hindi film industry way back in the 1990s and is still one of the best artists the industry has to offer. Whether it’s her performance in Ajeeb Daataans, Jalsa, Delhi crimeor darlings – Shah is spectacular every time. A rare breed of actor who knows how to react rather than just act, Shah’s successful ventures in recent years are also a testament to the changing times in the world of entertainment.
Shah gets to play women who often have delightful shades of gray, and Delhi crime makes perfect use of her acting power. In a world full of over-the-top heroic cops like Singham and Sooryavanshi, Shah’s Vartika Chaturvedi is a realistic breath of fresh air. She follows the rules, bends them where it is really necessary, and gets the job done without the need for theater or violence. She is a woman with a logical mind. Bollywood’s male agents can keep their flying cars and machismo.
As Chaturvedi teams up again with Rajesh Talang’s Inspector Bhupendra Singh and Rasika Dugal’s IPS officer Neeti Singh, they stumble together down a rabbit hole as they try to catch the culprits – the infamous Chaddi Baniyan Gang, who targets wealthy seniors living in the upscale neighborhoods of Delhi. The members of the real Chaddi Baniyan Gang wear underwear (chaddi in Hindi means underpants and baniyan in Hindi refers to undershirts), which is how they get their nickname. The name may sound funny, but there’s nothing funny about what they do. What shocks and terrifies the city is not that the gang is targeting the rich or the elderly, but the brutal way in which they murder their hapless victims. The crimes are so heinous that few would think that one of the perpetrators would be a thin, petite woman, as is the case in Delhi crime.
The Queenpin
Tillotama Shome’s Lata Solanki, aka Karishma, is the queen of the Chaddi Baniyan Gang. She could have gotten away with anything and built a terrifying empire, even if she hadn’t been for her blatant and ultimately short-sighted ambition—which is treated with a little respect without glorification. Her manners are reviled by the story, but not her audacity to dream big or her legitimate annoyance at not being born privileged.
By Solanki’s character in Delhi crime, two more tropics are brought down. It is often assumed that women are naturally more caring and innocent than their male counterparts. But that is not the case with Solanki. She leaves behind a child that, at all costs, she never wanted to embark on a path of self-fulfillment. Even if her partner shows her mercy, she doesn’t have time for it. But the hammer is only given to her cronies when her authority is challenged and she is threatened. She knows she needs her flunkies, until she doesn’t anymore.
The audience barely gets the space to feel any sympathy for the character. It is amply stated that Solanki, like most criminals, is an unhinged psychopath. That she is a woman has nothing to do with her transgressions, nor with how and why she commits crimes. If she is denied anything, this queen evokes no fear or reverence. She evokes pity. On the one hand, she’s cold and heartless, but she cries and sulks like a child with dementia when she’s kept away from what she wants, breaking free from all the boxes you can put her in, at least for a while. The only one who doesn’t seem surprised that Solanki, a woman, is the mind (and muscle) behind the hideous Chaddi Baniyan Gang is Chaturvedi.
While the men on the research team seem convinced that Solanki wouldn’t defy her maternal instincts, Chaturvedi knows there’s no such thing inherent in women just because of their biology. Chaturvedi is the voice of reason in a sea of men who reflect the prejudices of our world.