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Assignment Victimology and Penology

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ASSIGNMENT – LEGAL ANALYSIS OF MOVIE/ WEBSERIES

TITLE – CRIMINAL JUSTICE SEASON 2

Submitted by: Saakshi Bhavsar, Dhruv Agrawal, Dewansh Khandelwal


Roll no. – 10, 02, 26
Semester – X
Division – A
GLS Law College
CRIMINAL JUSTICE: BEHIND CLOSED DOORS (2020)

FACTUAL BACKGROUND OF WEBSERIES:

Anuradha Chandra (Kirti Kulhari) stabs her lawyer-husband Bikram Chandra (Jisshu
Sengupta) one night. The deed done, she calls emergency services and slips out of her plush
apartment. The man lies bleeding in bed and their 12-year-old daughter Rhea (Adrija Sinha)
is left all alone to deal with the aftermath.The stage is thus set for Criminal Justice: Behind
Closed Doors, an eight-part Hotstar Specials follow-up to the 2019 series. We know what has
happened. The whys and wherefores remain a mystery until the very end because the accused
clams up completely. For the prosecution, it is an open and shut case. For the defence
counsels Madhav Mishra (Pankaj Tripathi) and Nikhat Hussain (Anupriya Goenka), there is
more to it than meets the eye.

The investigation, the charge-sheet and the sessions court trial stretch over a period of ten
months. That is the time a woman takes to deliver a baby. In fact, a childbirth halfway
through the show is a key plot point linked to a big reveal. One can see the twist coming from
a long way off, which considerably undermines the element of surprise. The prison where
Anu Chandra (Kirti Kulhari) is lodged is a hellhole. The scarred woman has to fend off
hostility from hardened inmates, many of them on trial for murder, and reckon with
sickeningly unhygienic conditions. Hers is a nerve-wracking mental and physical ordeal. The
bond she forges with two inmates, including the rasoi in-charge Ishani (Shilpa Shukla), are
tenuous at best.

An advocate (a terrific Ashish Vidyarthi), who appears late in the drama, cites the
Manusmriti to define a woman's role in the family and in society. "Main sirf desh aur dharm
ki seva karna chahta hoon (I only want to serve my country and religion)", he says
pompously. It is easy to see why he is determined to make an example of Anu Chandra.Not
everyone opposed to Anu is as antediluvian as this seasoned prosecutor, but all the others that
the heroine has to contend with in the law enforcement system and in jail - see her act as
blow to the 'natural' order of things.

The show opens with legal luminary Bikram Chandra winning a case on behalf of the wife
and son of a lynched Dalit man. It is revealed a little later that this success has come in the
wake of the advocate securing justice for a Muslim victim of violence. As he basks in the
media spotlight, intercuts and brief exchanges between him and his wife reveal the latter's
delicate state and point towards the likelihood of the relationship being riddled with riddles.

The show delves into several other marital relationships. Madhav's marriage, for one, appears
to be a non-starter. His wife Ratna (Khusboo Atre) - he had left her on the wedding night and
taken a flight out of Patna to take up Anu's case - lands up in Mumbai without warning. But
the lawyer, otherwise a perfectly reasonable man, has no inclination to be the husband she
desires.
Gauri Pradhan (Kalyanee Mulay) and Harsh Pradhan (Ajeet Singh Palawat), two cops, are a
happily married couple posted in the same police station. Their equations, professional and
personal, have a bearing not only on Anu Chandra's fate but also, obviously, on how their
own relationship pans out.

Another marriage that is as good as over - we never see the man; he has left his wife for
another woman - is alluded to a few times. The deserted wife is Nikhat's mom (Komal
Chhabria). She still lives in hope of a reconciliation. The daughter, however, is determined
never to let her estranged father back into their lives.Criminal Justice: Behind Closed
Doors adopts a subdued, deliberate rhythm and tone and presses them into the service of a
plot that tosses and turns one way and then the other as the harried undertrial's lawyers take
on their own fraternity and the Mumbai police on behalf of a woman who has all but lost the
will to fight.

CONNECTION WITH THE SYLLABUS TOPIC:

This webseries shows the condition of under trial prisoners and what problems are faced by
them. Under-Trial Prisoners are unconvicted prisoners. In layman’s language when the
accused in is jail during the period of investigation, inquiry or trial of the offence in which he
was arrested can be known as under Trial Prisoners. The two elements (i) Accused in Jail (ii)
period from arrest to the period just before the outcome of the criminal case are essential to
explain the term. Generally, under-trial prisoners are those accused who are charged with
non-bailable offence and their bail has been denied or the accused who are charged with
bailable offence and their bail has been granted as a matter of their right provided by the law
but fail to furnish the bail bond and sureties. It also includes the accused who has been
granted bail in the non-bailable offence but they failed to fulfil the mandatory conditions
stated in order by the courts of law.

The prisons are a requisite unit of the criminal justice system of the country, but the condition
of prisons of the country is way disastrous and disgruntled. There is no adequate attention
paid to the prisons and prisoners over the decades and the situation prevailing is quite
alarming in various states. Most affected groups in these prisons are under-trial prisoners as
they are the unconvicted prisoners who are on trial in a court of law but they have to live a
miserable life while they are in jail. The most common problems of prisons in India are poor
condition of their health and sanitation facilities, lack of hygienic food, element of
overcrowded jails, discrimination and inequalities among the prisoners based on their
religion, financial status and many more.

The count of under-trial prisoners increases rapidly with each hour in our country. Even the
rate of its increase is quite more than that of prisoners who are actually convicted by the court
of law. The portion of undertrial prisoners for more than a year in prisons has taken a rapid
growth so does the pendency of the criminal litigations and their trials. The data and reports
of department officials clearly indicate that at the end of 2019 out of total prisoners there are
3.28 lakhs of under trial prisoners in jail on the other hand the count of actual convicts by the
courts is 1.42 lakhs which is not even half of the count of under trial prisoners.

The rise in pending cases is a major issue in criminal trials. As of now over 1.7 crore
Criminal cases (Trial and appeal) are pending from more than a year and within that over 22
lakhs cases are pending from more than 10 years from the date of its commencement. The
count of under-trial prisoners is somewhere directly proportional to the pendency of criminal
cases. Making a blistering observation 40 years ago, the Supreme Court had said the high
prevalence of undertrials in jails is a “crying shame on judicial system” as it permits
imprisonment of people for long periods even without trial commencing in many cases. 

The poor condition of health and sanitation facilities, lack of hygienic food, discrimination
and inequalities among the prisoners based on their religion, financial status and many more
altogether made the lives of under-trial prisoners catastrophic and no aspiration or desire is
usually left in them.

The other major concern with the under-trial prisoners is their illiteracy and unawareness
level. As of now 90% of under-trial prisoners are not even graduates which is quite alarming
and even 28 % of the under-trial prisoners are illiterate and over 50% under-trial prisoners
haven’t studied even till 10th grade. These statistics directly raise the question of whether
such under-trial prisoners know their basic legal and constitutional rights or not. Among
under-trial prisoners nearly 48% are from the age group of 18-30 years and 40% belong to the
age group of 30-50 years. This highlights the suffering of youth who are not even convicted
for the alleged offence and spend the crucial years of their life in jail even without conviction.

In the past, various Law commissions in their reports stated that the majority of the under-
trial prisoners are poor and they can’t even afford basic legal defence to get bail or acquittal.
In its 268th Law Report, the Law Commission had said it has become a norm in India that the
“powerful, rich and influential obtain bail promptly and with ease, whereas the masses or the
common or poor languish in jails”. It said this prevalence puts “human dignity at stake”.

The National Crime Records Bureau data reports the death of over 1,800 prisoners in the year
2018. An estimated 70 per cent of prison inmates are undertrials, so it can be safely assumed
that a large percentage of those dying in prison are not convicted of any offence.
Overcrowding, delayed medical attention, unhygienic conditions and malnutrition exist in all
Indian prisons. Despite the promise of Article 21, that no person shall be denied life or liberty
except by the due process of law, the NCRB data reveals that the number of those dying in
prison as they await their trials is only going up. Given that incarcerated people are unable to
access medical facilities and healthy food, it is the responsibility of the State and the judiciary
to ensure that they are only deprived of their liberty and are not exposed to any additional
torture in the form of medical deprivation, unhygienic conditions, bad or inadequate food etc.
Yet, thousands are dying every year and the prison authorities are not made accountable. The
State of Maharashtra has deemed it fit to continue to be governed by the Prisons Act of 1894.
The prison offences mentioned under this Act are only those committed by the inmates. No
conduct of the prison authority is criminalised and it grants them immunity and presumes
their good faith in acts of extreme neglect that could — and do — result in the death of
inmates. Why this should not be acknowledged as extrajudicial torture and made an offence,
where the ostensible purpose of imprisonment is reform, one cannot fathom.

LAW POINTS COVERED IN THE WEBSERIES:

Towards the end of the show, it is seen that Anuradha Chandra was having an extramarital
affair with her psychiatrist and was pregnant with his child. It is later revealed that she was a
victim of marital rape. Even though it is proven that Anuradha murdered her husband, she is
sentenced to only two years in jail. Madhav Mishra, her lawyer is happy with the job he did
in defending her. As it is revealed that Bikram Chandra, the victim was gaslighting Anuradha
all the time. So much so, that he made her believe that she was mentally unstable. Moreover,
he would track all her moves and had isolated her socially by turning everyone against her.
Anuradha got so frustrated with her life and constant gaslighting, that she felt death was the
only way out of her misery. On the night of the murder, she picked the knife to kill herself
but instead murders her husband. The court realised that Anuradha was being tortured in the
marriage, which is why she got provoked to murder the husband. Therefore, the court gave
her a short term in jail. Behind Closed Doors is slickly produced and directed and admirably
performed by the cast. Through the device of a courtroom drama, the series brings the
important issue of unseen violence against women out into the open, but also undercuts its
impact through overreach and oversimplification.

The narrative goes some way, though not far enough, in explaining the behaviour patterns of
abusers and abuse victims. Bikram’s sophisticated gaslighting has everybody, including his
daughter, fooled. It is suggested that a convenient ignorance about Bikram’s true nature and
his professional success are responsible for Anu’s plight. Criminal Justice: Behind Closed
Doors also lays bare the many flaws of society when it comes to domestic violence and
women’s inabilities to talk about it publicly, without getting criticised for it. The courtroom
drama addresses the unsaid things about the oversimplification of women as victims and as
criminals, especially when the man involved if from an affluent class and background. It
follows the story of a woman (Kirti Kulhari) who, after stabbing her husband in bed one
night, is caught in the vicious circle of domestic violence versus the fight against the law and
society. Both seasons share the same theme, i.e., innocent until proven guilty. And in the
midst of it stands an advocate (Pankaj Tripathi), who will do anything to unveil the truth.

In a society so conditioned to take silence as acknowledgement, Anu is branded a criminal


even before the case goes to trial. What works is the fact that the series brings the important
issue of unseen violence against women into the open. Touching succinctly on gaslighting,
emotional abuse in a relationship, a woman’s shame in admitting what happens behind the
closed doors of her seemingly perfect family life and the irresponsible branding of a victim
based on superficial evidence and preconceived notions. But it’s not just Anu who is a victim
of prejudice. Behind Closed Doors, through most of its female characters, shows how women
fight misogyny, sexism — casual and otherwise — and discrimination at every step. Where
Criminal Justice Season 2 wins is in using the lens of gender to tell the story. Women and
their position in the criminal justice system is a recurring theme in the show. It’s in the prison
that things really unfold. From unexpected allies, to facing judgment from her inmates, Anu’s
journey weaves in different viewpoints.

Anu’s journey from her plush apartment in Mumbai to these cramped quarters, where the
toilet overflows regularly, and you have to fight for every slice of bread, is well captured and
Kulhari’s performance is noteworthy. She speaks less, is obviously fragile, but she soldiers
on. That said, wish there was more time given to the backstories of other inmates. Take note,
Criminal Justice 2 is no Orange is the New Black, Netflix’s breakout series, though one can
see hints of the Australian series Wentworth. But this is not a show about women in prison.
It’s about women and their struggle with and in society to even breathe at times. It’s about
daily relatable things that women face everywhere. It’s about a woman who is judged
instantly for her actions, while a man can literally get away with murder. It’s about the notion
of patriarchy, and how often women enable it. It’s about women’s right to be acknowledged
in a workplace dominated by men. It’s about women having the right to chose, or to say no,
to stay or to leave. There’s a nod to sexual consent as well, but neither of these issues
overwhelm or dominate, they all blend seamlessly, adding to the complex, layered narrative.

LEARNINGS FROM THE WEBSERIES:

“Innocent until proven guilty,” recalls criminal lawyer Madhav Mishra’s (Pankaj Tripathi)
wife, as she explains to her boss in a beauty parlour that one cannot be termed a criminal until
their crime has been proven. The small scene in the show delivers a much bigger message,
that if you can change the thinking of even one person, you’ve made a difference. The world
of Criminal Justice paints a brutal picture of the issues that surround us, but are seldom talked
about. It focuses on the media trial that is often carried out when a high-profile person is
involved and how it can lead to a person being treated like a criminal, even before the Court’s
order. In a single scene, Criminal Justice shows us the downside of social media and how
toxic it gets at times. There are other grave issues too. Kirti Kulhari leaves a mark with her
performance. Her emotionally charged scenes form some of the best moments of the show.
Even after you stop watching, her character will stay with you for a while. The slow-burning
tale offers details in dribbles rather than hammer them in. It takes its time to peel off the
layers that conceal the truth. Behind them is a web of lies and assumptions that is put to the
test in a courtroom in the final two episodes.

Episode One provides a neat, cracking, interest-piquing build-up. It isn't pace that catches our
attention but the steady tightening of the screws amid mounting intrigue. While the
subsequent focus is firmly on the fate of the accused and how the law treats her, the show
isn't a unidimensional affair.
The adaptation retains its cultural specificity even as it expounds universal truths not only
about abuse, crime and punishment but also about contemporary Indian society at large.
Marital abuse has certain aspects that the abused wife – it is a male crime barring very few
exceptions – cannot even think of complaining to anyone, least to the machineries of law
such as the police and the courts. The victim may even begin to believe that if she cannot
bear the terrible abuse to her person, perhaps something is wrong with her and what is
happening is misinterpreted by her as abuse. 

Almost every society greets the problem of domestic violence with a deafening silence. This
is a silence that manufactures myths – that it does not happen among “educated people”; that
only drunken men beat up their wives; that men beat wives because they truly love them, etc.
This is a silence that encourages attitudes of self-blame, shame and resignation in women
who face violence. Behind this silence lurks acceptance – that men have the right to use
violence, while women should adjust and endure. An acceptance somewhere tacit,
somewhere overt. The number of women who are battered each year by their partners is
unknown because of society's perception of domestic violence as a private matter, the failure
of many victims to report abuse, and the knowledge that many police officers and judges
dismiss abuse as inconsequential. The scenes inside the female cell are a revelation for
viewers like us who form a major slice of the mainstream. They are scary, wild, brutal and
cruel all at the same time. Criminal Justice – Behind Closed Doors, is certainly a not-to-be-
missed series for focussing on an area of marital rape no one has ever dared attempt before.

ANALYSIS:

While we consistently and deservedly celebrate a courtroom drama like Pink that necessitated
the idea of consent in any relationship, it’s surprising to note that it took nearly four years of
the film’s release for a filmmaker to attempt a project surrounding marital rape. Consent
sadly remains an aspect that’s conveniently brushed under the carpet more so after marriage
(especially for women), given the lack of awareness and the helplessness while confronting a
partner’s actions in a legitimised relationship.

Season two of Criminal Justice is a cruel reminder that the issue remains the same regardless
of the victim’s education or stature. For the very attempt to discuss a woman’s plight in an
abusive marriage with a supposedly revered man in the society, Criminal Justice (Behind
Close Doors), though being a remake of Peter Moffat’s English series by the same name,
deserves praise. However, does this translate into a gripping show? The conflict and drama in
the premise are super-solid. The odds are stacked against the woman from all dimensions –
she’s pregnant when she’s behind bars, the daughter despises the mother, there are media
trials, the advocate is an underdog and the cops are eager to frame her. The result is a
laboured, sleep-inducing narrative that’s sluggishly paced and transforms into a sob fest just
when you feel that the storytelling could have done with more zing. The director Rohan
Sippy makes a creative choice of restricting the show to the courtroom proceedings than
dwelling upon the backstories of its pivotal characters – a decision that proves costly and
doesn’t provide sufficient emotional connect. It would have been interesting had the show
thrown more light into the early years of the couple’s relationship. The fleeting glimpses of
their past add no value to the storytelling; the dialoguebaazi and melodrama dominate
everything else.

The courtroom proceedings are bland and drag like there’s no tomorrow.  The comic relief to
the show is provided through the cheeky rapport between the newlywed lawyer Mishra and
his wife – this is a welcome distraction in an otherwise tense plot but in terms of the story, it
adds no value to the show. The storytelling patterns in the second season are more or less
similar to its predecessor. While the compact subplots, terrific performances and the gripping
screenplay were its strengths the previous time, the same can’t be said about this outing
despite the story being more relevant and hard-hitting. So Criminal Justice: Behind Closed
Doors (we’re still calling it Criminal Justice 2) opens a new case with Kirti Kulhari playing
the accused. In doing so, the show takes on a study of the many ways in which judgements on
women are passed and ultimately attempts to chronicle the female plight in and out of the
legal system.

Over the course of the trial that sees Anu behind bars after pleading guilty, it takes on the
subjects of vilification and victimization of women both in and out of the legal system. These
are increasingly relevant topics given recent real-life examples where trials are carried out by
biased spectators with the media and news headlines fueling the fire. Sadly, the show has a
set of high-stakes themes it cannot convey. It touches upon marital rape, stigma against
mental illness and the distrust against women who aren’t the God-fearing, ideal wives that
Indian society so badly wants them to be. Anu isn’t hated for stabbing someone, she’s hated
for stabbing her “husband and a respected lawyer” they say. The show talks about marital
rape, something that is not considered a crime in our country. Criminal Justice season 2
depicts the flawed judicial system and society when it comes to dealing with abuse against
women, and their inability to talk about it publicly without getting criticised. 
PICTURES:

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