When I watched the teaser for Anubhuti Kashyap’s Accused about a week ago, my first reaction was that of excitement. But almost reflexively, I tempered my expectations. Decades of being let down by Hindi cinema can do this. The teaser reminded me of Todd Field’s Tár – starring Cate Blanchett, playing a renowned conductor, whose mythical brilliance on stage is punctured by her indiscretions. It makes sense that the actor tasked with conveying the moral ambiguities and unpleasantness of the subject is Konkona Sen Sharma. The farthest thing in physicality and style – the only thing overlapping Sen Sharma and Blanchett, is their fearlessness to look absolutely deplorable on screen without breaking a sweat. Also, I’d enjoyed Kashyap’s last venture, Doctor G (2023), pushing the Ayushmann Khurrana social dramedy in a new direction. Credit to the opening portions, Accused managed to make me forget my inhibitions. Introducing Dr Geetika Sen (Sen Sharma) a star gynaecologist in a London hospital, she is married to Meera (Pratibha Ranta). At a get-together, the couple announce Geetika’s promotion, which will take them to a new town, and their plans to adopt a baby. Meera, too, works at a children’s clinic — but it’s established early in the film that she is the ‘support system’. Hailing from Meerut, and not yet out of the closet to her family, Meera is a satellite to Geetika’s planet. Geetika is known to be a hard task master, depicted in an early scene – where she shuts down a colleague after he botches up a surgery. It’s a relatively stereotypical idea of the “hysterical, aggressive” female superior – which Sen Sharma underplays with her poise. I liked the amount of information conveyed in the first few scenes. The world of Geetika and Meera (with the family, friends, acquaintances) is established in less than 10 minutes in the get-together sequence – impressive for most Hindi films.All hell breaks loose the morning after. Geetika is summoned by the Dean, Simran (Meghana Mahendru), who has an anonymous email open on her computer containing sexual harassment allegations against Geetika. Things get immediately complicated, thanks to the long list of folks who have an axe to grind with Geetika, including disgruntled juniors, former lovers. Amidst a flurry of social media comments of allegations are callous reinforcements in the form of “I’ve always got creepy vibes from her” and “She once threw a file at me”. Conflating a rude boss with a sexual predator is something the film gets spot on about social media trials, and the relish in the comments section around scandalous narratives. The viewer momentarily feels bad for Geetika, but we soon find out how effortlessly she lies to Meera. Sen Sharma is one of the few actors savvy enough to convey their character through body language. The way she stiffens up in front of a former lover, or how casually cruel she becomes to Ranta’s character – ensures we’re unsure about the outcome. There are two characters who look on with longing towards Geetika and Meera – Sophia and Angad respectively – who are too obvious as red-herrings. Things curdle when the one anonymous allegation mushrooms into seven allegations. Is Geetika a predator hiding in plain sight, behind the garb of the ‘out there, liberated’ senior doctor?I wish the film had done a better job with its secondary cast. None of the characters are defined well enough. There’s the investigator Jaideep Bhargava (Mashoor Amrohi), who brings in a wryness to the proceedings. The always watchable Sukant Goel, plays Mansoor – a private detective — consumed by football, perpetually short on sleep and eating on the go. There are crumbs of promise in these characters, however, neither have a lasting impact on the film. The two main characters – Geetika and Meera aren’t a whole lot convincing as each other’s spouse. Ranta is good as the younger, more idealistic person in the marriage. But it’s Sen Sharma, who is afforded the scenery-chewing moments. Some of the tirades feel abruptly talk-y, since Sen Sharma is so capable of conveying so much wordlessly.A still from ‘Accused’.The issue with setting up such a film, with all its intrigue, is that the climax is one of two options. Either she is a sexual predator, or she’s not. During the first hour, Kashyap’s film teases both ways. In the second hour, is when the film comes undone – failing to protect the ambiguity it promised earlier. A magical piece of CCTV somehow straightens out a severely tangled truth. Unlike Tár – which managed to unmask Blanchett’s character, while also somehow retaining the mystique of a very public fall-from-grace. Kashyap’s film doesn’t have the courage to follow through on its initial convictions. Does a dishonest partner equal a sexual predator? When someone lies, is it just deceit or does it stem from a lack of respect? Do queer women also embody the traits of powerful men, the ones they spent a lifetime denouncing? Is there a room for truth-tellers and seekers anymore? How does one separate perception from the truth?Accused raises some interesting questions, but settles for a cop-out climax. For all its sound and fury, Kashyap’s film unequivocally holds up the status-quo. It’s a stinker of a last stretch – upsetting me to the point that I was audibly screaming at the TV. After all that posturing, it was baffling to see the Konkona Sen Sharma-starrer pleading the fifth.*Accused is streaming on Netflix