Aakhri Sach Review
About Aakhri Sach
Aakhri Sach is a promising true-life horror crime-drama gone terribly wrong. It means well, oh yes. It does! And initially, Robbie Grewal (good to see this talented director working) and his writer Saurav Dey are on to a good thing: a family in Old Delhi commits mass suicide.
Wait! Isn’t this the Burari deaths? And hasn’t Netflix already done an outstanding three-part documentary House Of Secrets: The Burari Deaths two years ago on the same tragedy? This fictionalized version of the voluntary carnage that shook Delhi is more of the same and not quite the intense drama that it aspires to be. It is like a very pheeka saltless chola preparation.
If the truth be told - and that is what this series wants to do - then Aakhri Sach is just pointless and redundant. By the time the time I could figure out how many ‘a’s and ‘n’s Tamannaah had in her name, the series had already lost steam.
In the headline-making incident which happened on 30 June 2018, eleven members of one family in a locality known as Burari in Delhi committed mass suicide. How could so many members of the same family agree to end their lives simultaneously?
The solution offered in this series is not only far-fetched but also borderline preposterous. Aakhri Sach begins with Tamannaah (hope I got that right) playing the cool undercover cop in a club nabbing a credit-card scamster, as far removed from the scene of the Burari crime as Boston from Barabanki.
How did the makers of this series even think of such an incongruous introduction for the female hero? What follows is a mishmash of the real facts in the Burari case and some terribly written fictional brainwaves which seem to have come from pavement crime literature. The suspects in the mass suicide are more like bystanders nabbed for the lack of real evidence than people who have a valid reason to be involved.
Even for a six-episoder, Aakhri Sach creaks and groans under the weight of its own lightness. In the very first episode, one of the dead woman’s fiancé is a prime suspect. In episode 2 he travels to a far-off village to confront a man who was harassing the woman he was to marry. In Episode 3 a godman named Chamatkari Baba is the prime suspect.
It is almost like one suspect per episode, each more unlikely than the other. By the time we plod to the end of the plot, there is very little to carry home(even if you are watching this at home) except stilted performances, sketchy characters and discrepant writing.
Aakhri Sach relies heavily on atmospheric pressure to generate a sinister ambience - recurrent closeups of a simmering container of chola to suggest aberrancy in a normal Delhi household, etc. But there is little here to hold our attention except maybe Abhishek Banerjee’s traumatized heir-apparent act which could have done with more accentuation.
As for Ms Bhatia, she is seen trying to shed her glamorous plumes. But the glamorous plumes just won’t leave her alone.
End of Article
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