The Indrani Mukerjea Story: Buried Truth Review: Living Up to its Title

Directors: Uraaz Bahl, Shaana Levy

Number of episodes: 4

Streaming on: Netflix

“The Sheena Bora murder case” is an inextricable sound of modern Mumbai lore. Over time, the term has become more of a descriptive phase: The name is now synonymous with the act. It also embodies the new Eat-the-Rich sub-genre of social conditioning. For years, a nation has morbidly watched skeletons tumbling out the closet of a dysfunctional wealthy family. The death is almost incidental to the twisted drama that followed. It was always more of a haw-dunnit than a whodunnit – the gasps have outnumbered the sighs. The facts go thus. Twenty five-year-old Sheena Bora goes missing in Mumbai on April 24, 2012. Her family – primarily media-tycoon ‘sister’ Indrani Mukerjea, and Indrani’s third husband Peter Mukerjea – claim she went abroad for further studies. A month later, Sheena’s charred corpse is found in the woods of Raigad. 

One of the prime suspects is Indrani, who was, among other things, against Sheena’s relationship with her stepbrother (and Peter’s son), Rahul Mukerjea. The Mumbai Police struggle to gather evidence. More than three years later, once the CBI gets involved, Indrani is arrested; her driver Shyamvar Rai confesses to aiding her in the killing of Sheena and the disposal of her body. Soon, Peter Mukerjea and her ex-husband Sanjeev Khanna are arrested as co-conspirators in the crime. It also comes to light that Indrani was actually Sheena’s mother, not her sister. Details of her past are uncovered. The trial begins. In 2022, the Supreme Court grants bail to all the four accused. The trial is ongoing. 

Tilting Towards Access

The Indrani Mukerjea Story: Buried Truth, a four-part Netflix docuseries about the case, left a bad taste in my mouth. And I don’t mean it in a “oh that was so creepy!” way. It’s problematic on multiple levels. There is, of course, the ethical question of making an investigative show while the matter is sub-judice. I get that it’s a true-crime goldmine – and that any perspective can and should be explored – but the timing is irresponsible at best. More importantly, as a work of narrative nonfiction, it is more interested in conspiratory versions of the truth. This sort of narrative whataboutery brings to mind MH370: The Plane That Disappeared, a morally ambiguous Netflix docuseries that presented myriad theories about the vanishing of the 2014 Malaysian Airlines flight without committing to any. Buried Truth, too, creates the illusion of a full picture, with interviews of cops and commentators and journalists (including a very expressive Rajdeep Sardesai), as well as accounts by key family members from both sides: Indrani’s daughter Vidhie and Sheena’s brother Mekhail. 

But the fact is that the docuseries – co-produced by the India Today Group – is built around bombshell access to Indrani Mukerjea herself. Currently out on bail, she delivers a performative defense of her image. For context, her ‘intro moment’ features her entering the frame, locking eyes with the lens and stylishly declaring: “I’m ready guys, go on then, ask me whatever you need to”. Naming the whole thing “The Indrani Mukerjea Story” is a weak alibi to platform only one of the four accused. (The other three declined to participate, we are told during the end credits). 

But let’s judge the docuseries for what it is. After all, sensationalism is hard to resist. You can see what the makers are trying to achieve: To turn a live-action Indrani Mukerjea into a cult-viral figure, a la Ma Anand Sheela from Netflix’s Wild Wild Country (2018). If anything, they count on our extreme reactions, her colourful conduct and a potential controversy. Indrani does have that aura, especially when she eloquently assassinates the characters of all her husbands and children. Or when she goes about life in her Worli apartment, perfectly aware that the cameras are on her. Or when she speaks of her own allure and power over men. Or when she confidently asserts that she is innocent because Sheena is still alive. We’re spoilt for choice, really. 

Even if the intent is to make Indrani a pop-cultural sensation and transcend all parameters of guilt and justice, the opinion of a solid true-crime story is often hidden in its film-making. For instance, you could always tell that Wild Wild Country – through its sharp staging and exposition – batted for the locals, survivors and witnesses. It viewed a commune of insanity through the wry lens of sanity. The eccentricities of the tale rarely obfuscated the dangers and crimes of the Rajneesh cult itself. In contrast, The Indrani Mukerjea Story is so thrilled by its unfettered access to Indrani that it’s almost in thrall of her. She is its default lens. It lets her speak and speak, because she is their controversial scoop. The series also seems to be aware that Indrani’s mannerisms and words – as well as the ‘entertaining’ cameo of her lawyer (the chip on his shoulder is amusing) – ends up incriminating her further, leaving no doubt even in the most objective viewer’s mind. They don’t do themselves any favours, and while the camera seems to enjoy their presence, it scrambles to find balance and ‘open-ended’ routes. 

Framing the Naysayers

Consequently, it plays several cards, briefly touching upon the ambitious-woman-victimised and gender angles by introducing jealous (mostly male) faces from the past. It listens to her account of a horrific childhood incident, putting the viewer in an awkward position of doubting a woman alleging abuse. It hints at Peter’s influential contacts and links within the system, implying that he betrayed and framed her. More so, the series saves all its probing for her naysayers, namely son Mekhail and stepson Rahul. It judges them through subtle and unsubtle twitches of film-making. For example, despite Mekhail’s claims of Indrani’s financial chokehold and her attempts to kill him, the makers puncture his story with questions about a new car she bought him. Up until then, it’s clear that she controlled – and silenced – her children with money, yet the camera turns on Mekhail to prove that he isn’t entirely trustworthy. It further grills him about not looking for his sister after she disappeared. Everyone is complicit, it suggests. 

Similarly, Rahul Mukerjea’s phone calls with Peter play over dramatic recreations of a troubled man in a dark room strewn with cigarettes and bottles – adhering to Indrani’s descriptions of Rahul as a rich wastrel. When a crime reporter speaks glowingly of Rahul as the only genuine prosecution witness – the only one who missed and searched for Sheena Bora – it’s placed after a scene of Indrani’s lawyer dismissing him as a trained actor. In contrast, Vidhie Mukerjea is allowed to have her long say; she delves into her low phases (twice, she speaks of downing a bottle to deal with trauma) without any cheesy recreations or counter-questioning. The only time a few images flash, it’s during a suicide attempt she talks of, thereby eliciting sympathy for the troubled daughter. 

Strangely enough, no amount of creative subterfuge (cue shots of an introspective Indrani on her Worli terrace) can alter the impression that Indrani Mukerjea is the flamboyant antagonist of a pointless whodunit. The balancing act is too visible. If anything, the docuseries inadvertently compromises her, so any influence on the rest of the trial or public discourse is likely not the one it’s designed for. Even as the CBI seeks a stay on the airing of the show, the irony is that a release might just strengthen their case. But the point is that any influence – good, bad, right, wrong – is a symptom of artistic opportunism, not investigative curiosity. The ethics are, for better or worse, inseparable from the storytelling; they define the editing, subtext and interrogation patterns. Given its tone, then, The Indrani Mukerjea Story could’ve been called ‘No One Killed Sheena’ – except it wouldn’t be sarcastic. Even the excavation is alleged. It is so curated to make a social media splash that the title itself is now a descriptive phrase: The docuseries is synonymous with the burial of truth.