Accused (2026) Review!!

Synopsis – When a celebrated queer doctor in London is accused of sexual misconduct, her life unravels.

My Take – Though she is often forgotten whenever a list of best mainstream actresses is prepared, without a doubt, Konkona Sen Sharma continues to remain one of the most talented performers in the industry who has well-proven her mettle several times on the big screen and the OTT space. A thespian who ever since her 2000 debut seems to have consciously chosen stories that challenge her as an artist, even when the output may come across something too experimental and may end being just substandard.

Such is also the case of her latest role in this Netflix release, which sees her once again play a dominant queer character, like in her segment in Ajeeb Daastaans (2021), yet in a different kind of towering turn that well addresses the frustrations of a successful woman in a world that continues to look down on her in her journey to the top.

A role backed by a premise is thematically ripe with promise. A narrative which inverts the usual male-perpetrator pattern by having a female queer doctor being accused in a #MeToo sexual misconduct case. But most importantly avoids treating queerness as an issue or trope, instead presents it as a grounded reality. And when it comes to the conflict, it deliberately lean into ambiguity — refusing easy answers about guilt, innocence, perception, and reputation. An approach that could have seamlessly intertwined the thriller genre with social commentary and psychological character study.

However, while Konkona Sen Sharma brings the physicality and the ambition that the role demands, the shockingly slipshod execution dismisses her talents. Backed by Dharmatic Entertainment, directed by Anubhuti Kashyap (Doctor G), and written by Sima Agarwal and Yash Keswani, the film has a bunch of interesting ideas and starts off strong that is until it decides to squander things midway. Though there are flashes where the plot almost reaches the gravitas it seeks, given the talent and production house attached, the fact that the screenplay is so shaky and flat (to put it kindly) is nothing short of baffling.

The film wants to talk about manipulation, gas lighting, dominance and the abuse of power, but then adjusts itself by mostly spelling it out in the form of an expository sequence towards the end instead of being woven into the screenplay. What could have been an in-depth look at the increasingly blurry line between black and white ultimately turns into a half-baked thriller with an ending so predictable that it will leave you eye-rolling at the underwhelming mix of relationship drama, lackluster treatment, and the #MeToo movement.

Set in London, the story follows celebrated queer doctor, Dr. Geetika Sen (Konkona Sen Sharma) who is the Head of the Gynecology department at London’s Chapelstone General Hospital. Though she is known to be a taskmaster at her workplace and is known to be very strict with her juniors when they make mistakes, she lives a blessed life with her wife, Dr. Meera (Pratibha Ranta), who works at Willowbrook Children’s Hospital.

Having been promoted to a dean portion and an adoption in process, the two are amidst a move to bigger place in a different city, that is until the HR department receives an anonymous e-mail accusing Geetika of sexual misconduct. Though she is initially somewhat dismissive, things begin to spiral when four more e-mails come through. While Geetika is assured that since the complaint is anonymous, no action will be taken against her, she is put on administrative leave until an external professional, Jaideep Bhargav (Mashhoor Amrohi), completes his investigation into the allegations.

But as the situation shifts from whispers to an undeniable scandal, Geetika begins to grapple with professional ruin, while Meera finds herself confronting both the allegations and the unsettling transformation in the woman she loves.

What makes the film initially compelling is its choice to sidestep the mechanics of a standard whodunit and instead lean into something far knottier. Rather than obsessing over clues and clean reveals, it constructs a moral maze where certainty feels permanently out of reach. Every conversation carries an undercurrent of doubt. Did Geetika truly overstep, or is she being swallowed by forces more complex and insidious than a single accusation. The film draws strength from that early uncertainty, allowing discomfort to linger and resisting the temptation to simplify what is clearly not simple.

And of course, one of the most refreshing choices the film makes is treating Geetika and Meera’s relationship with normalcy rather than spectacle. Apart from fleeting reactions from those around them, particularly, Meera’s family, the narrative resists leaning into stereotypes or over explaining their dynamic. Ironically, it is when the plot thickens that the emotional authenticity begins to thin out.

And what starts off as a tightly constructed narrative loaded with the promise of sharp twists and emotionally unsettling discoveries gradually begins to fall apart.

The early momentum suggests a film unafraid to confront discomfort head on, yet somewhere along the way that confidence wavers and heads into caricature narrative tropes. The promising territory of watching Geetika liberally gaslight as a selfish partner and questionable boss who’s backed into a corner, never arrives.

Aside from a script scrambling to cram too much and not getting nearly enough right, a lot of the film’s dissatisfaction stems from the flimsy British supporting cast. Even meaningful moments lose steam in their clumsy presence.

However, the biggest blow comes in the form of the underwhelming cop-out climax, which relies on conveniently placed red herrings, and a last minute shrill, concluding moral-of-the-story monologue with Geetika talking about how women are punished for being ambitious, and that power must be handled with care. Where the film could have concluded with the case closure and delivered a softer message about faith and relationships, instead goes into a forced squirm-in-your-seat rant about feminism.

Nevertheless, the performances are on point. Konkona Sen Sharma constantly rises above the script and plays a complex character with reverence. She brings the right kind of balance of everything – including when to be a little restrained, how to look vulnerable, or just be good at what she does. Pratibha Ranta complements her seasoned co-star’s ferocity with calm and lends their ongoing crisis a mix of sentiment, fragility and exasperation. She maintains a strong position in the narrative and dominates the confrontational scenes.

In supporting roles, Mashhoor Amrohi, Aditya Nanda, Kallirroi Tziafeta, Monica Mahendru, Sukant Goel, Sanjeeta Bhattacharya and Daniele Secondi are decent enough. On the whole, ‘Accused‘ is a weak drama that squanders its potential with a messy and mismatched execution effort.