WEB SERIES REVIEW: MRS. DESHPANDE

Film Review by Suyash Pachauri

Mrs. Deshpande is a Hindi-language web series streaming on JioHotstar. Directed by Nagesh Kukunoor, the six-episode series features Madhuri Dixit Nene in the lead role, supported by Siddharth Chandekar, Priyanshu Chatterjee, Kavin Dave, Nimisha Nair, and Diksha Juneja. Each episode runs for approximately 50 minutes, making it a compact yet immersive watch.

Introduction

In the crowded OTT landscape of 2025, crime thrillers have become a comfort genre algorithm-friendly, bingeable, and increasingly risk-averse. Into this familiar terrain arrives Mrs. Deshpande, a six-episode Hindi adaptation of the French series La Mante, directed by Nagesh Kukunoor and headlined by Madhuri Dixit Nene. On paper, the series promises an intoxicating blend of psychological menace, moral ambiguity, and star power: a legendary actress playing a serial killer whose methods inspire a copycat murderer.

The premise itself is irresistible. A woman jailed for 25 years for brutal vigilante murders is temporarily released to help the police track a killer who imitates her signature style: two-foot-long rope, ritualistic staging, and morally “deserving” victims. This setup naturally evokes comparisons to The Silence of the Lambs, Mindhunter, and Dixit’s own iconic turn in Anjaam. Yet Mrs. Deshpande walks a far safer path.

The result is a series that is consistently watchable, intermittently gripping, and occasionally compelling but also frustratingly timid. It oscillates between wanting to be a dark psychological thriller and a sanitized, morally justified procedural drama. What could have been a daring exploration of female rage, power, and moral emptiness instead settles for familiarity, reverence for stardom, and ideological comfort.

Screenplay & Script Sense

The screenplay, written by Nagesh Kukunoor and Rohit Banawlikar, is the series’ most conflicted element. Structurally, Mrs. Deshpande is sound. The narrative unfolds linearly with intermittent flashbacks, steadily escalating tension, and regularly introducing new suspects to sustain intrigue. Each episode ends on a hook, making the series undeniably binge-friendly.

However, the writing suffers from an overexposure of intent. Every scene feels burdened with the responsibility of “delivering” information, be it plot progression, emotional cues, or moral framing. There is little room for ambiguity, silence, or psychological breathing space. Conversations often feel staged to explain rather than reveal.

The biggest flaw lies in how the script refuses to trust its central character. Mrs. Deshpande is introduced as a cold-blooded serial killer, yet the writing repeatedly bends over backwards to justify her actions. Her victims are uniformly monstrous rapists, pedophiles, and corrupt politicians, leaving no moral grey zone. This ethical sanitization weakens the psychological complexity of the character.

The copycat-killer subplot, which should have been the narrative’s sharpest weapon, is undermined by predictable red herrings and transparent misdirection. Suspects are staged so deliberately that the audience can see the manipulation from miles away. The police force, meanwhile, is written as implausibly inefficient, making the narrative logic feel strained. The fact that seasoned officers repeatedly rely on a convicted killer to lead the investigation borders on absurdity.

While the final twist attempts to shock, it relies on a trope-heavy revelation that feels dated and, worse, irresponsible, particularly in its portrayal of marginalized identities. In trying to surprise, the script ends up reinforcing regressive storytelling shortcuts.

Direction

Nagesh Kukunoor is a filmmaker known for sensitivity, realism, and emotional intelligence. In Mrs. Deshpande, however, his direction feels oddly restrained and hurried. The show has the polish of a high-profile OTT production but lacks a distinctive directorial voice.

Kukunoor approaches the material with procedural efficiency rather than psychological curiosity. Scenes are staged cleanly, performances are controlled, and pacing remains brisk but the show rarely lingers where it should. Moments that demand discomfort, menace, or moral unease are softened or rushed through.

There is a noticeable reluctance to fully embrace the darkness of the premise. Instead of allowing Mrs. Deshpande to dominate the frame as a terrifying presence, the direction often frames her as enigmatic but safe, almost maternal. The gaze remains cautious, even ironic, as if afraid of alienating viewers by presenting a truly unhinged woman.

This caution extends to the series’ ideological choices. Kukunoor repeatedly Indianizes and justifies the protagonist’s violence, drawing parallels between her actions and institutional authority (police, soldiers, justice). While this may make the character more palatable, it significantly reduces narrative risk.

The result is a show that feels more produced than directed, competent and polished, but lacking the daring that the premise demands.

Acting

Madhuri Dixit Nene

There is no denying Madhuri Dixit’s screen presence. She anchors Mrs. Deshpande with a calm authority that ensures the camera never strays far from her. Her restrained performance, marked by stillness, measured dialogue delivery, and a persistent half-smile, creates an aura of control.

However, this restraint is both the performance’s strength and limitation. Dixit is never allowed to truly unravel. Her rage, grief, and madness remain tightly contained, communicated more through implication than explosion. While this aligns with the show’s sanitized tone, it robs the character of raw psychological depth.

Glimpses of her Anjaam-era madness surface briefly, hinting at what could have been. Yet the writing and direction repeatedly pull her back into a zone of moral plausibility and emotional decorum. Dixit does exactly what the show asks of her, and perhaps that is the tragedy.

Supporting Cast

• Siddharth Chandekar as ACP Tejas Phadke brings sincerity but struggles against inconsistent writing. His suspicion of Mrs. Deshpande feels underdeveloped, and his arc lacks emotional payoff.

• Priyanshu Chatterjee delivers a subtle, composed performance as Commissioner Arun Khatri, though his character remains underwritten.

• Nimisha Nair effectively plays a deceptive supporting role, though her character’s potential is undercut by narrative shortcuts.

• Kavin Dave provides brief tonal relief but is largely peripheral.

Overall, performances are competent, but the series remains a one-woman show intentionally so.

Cinematography

The cinematography is clean, functional, and largely unremarkable. The visual palette leans towards muted tones greys, blues, and browns befitting the genre but lacking distinctive identity.

Hyderabad and Mumbai are depicted generically, with little effort to integrate cultural specificity into the visual language. Interiors, particularly the safehouse, feel staged rather than lived-in, contributing to the show’s sanitized aesthetic.

There are occasional well-composed frames, especially during interrogation scenes, but the camera rarely participates in storytelling beyond coverage. 

Music & Background Score

The background score is serviceable but uninspired. It signals tension, danger, and revelation exactly when expected but rarely surprises. There are no memorable motifs or themes associated with characters, particularly Mrs. Deshpande, which feels like a missed opportunity.

Silence, which could have been used powerfully in psychological moments, is underutilized.

Editing

The editing keeps the series tight and binge-friendly. Episodes move swiftly, and there are no glaring pacing issues. However, the briskness sometimes works against emotional impact. Scenes cut away just as they begin to breathe.

Flashbacks are inserted mechanically, often explaining rather than enriching the narrative. The final reveal, despite its buildup, feels rushed and over-explained.

Episode-Wise Breakdown

Episode 1: Strong setup, compelling premise, Madhuri’s commanding introduction.

Episode 2: Investigation deepens; procedural rhythm established.

Episode 3: Red herrings introduced; tension maintained but predictability creeps in.

Episode 4: Character backstories are explored; the narrative begins to wobble.

Episode 5: Stakes rise, but emotional payoff remains muted.

Episode 6: Controversial twist and morally confused resolution; divisive ending.

Final Verdict

Mrs. Deshpande is a series of contradictions. It wants to be dark but remains cautious, wants to shock but retreats into familiarity, and wants to explore female rage but ultimately domesticates it. Madhuri Dixit shines within these limitations, but the show never fully earns her presence.

It is engaging enough to binge, polished enough to recommend, but too afraid to be memorable.

On the Plus Side

• Madhuri Dixit’s commanding screen presence

• Binge-friendly structure

• Intriguing premise

• Controlled performances

• Slick production values

On the Minus Side

• Sanitised moral framing

• Weak, trope-heavy twist

• Underdeveloped psychological depth

• Generic visual language

• Risk-averse storytelling

Film Review by Suyash Pachauri