I didn’t mean to get hooked on Criminal Justice. I clicked on the first episode just to see what it was about—and the next thing I knew, I was four episodes in, eyes glued to the screen. There’s something about this show. It doesn’t scream for your attention with flashy twists or dramatic reveals, but it pulls you in slowly and then doesn’t let go.
The premise isn’t new—a man wrongly accused, a courtroom drama, life behind bars. We’ve seen that before. But Criminal Justice takes that familiar setup and gives it a raw, grounded treatment. It’s less about the thrills and more about the slow, grinding machinery of the Indian legal system. The show leans into silence, into pauses, into the tension of not knowing what’s next. And somehow, that makes it even more compelling.
Vikrant Massey: A Quiet Storm
The first season belongs to Vikrant Massey. He plays Aditya Sharma, a regular cab driver who finds himself in the middle of a nightmare. What Massey does with this role is remarkable—not because he’s loud or overly dramatic, but because he’s not. His performance is so understated, so honest, that you feel every bit of Aditya’s fear, confusion, and gradual loss of innocence.
There’s a moment when Aditya begins to realise that no one is coming to save him. That quiet panic, that slow internal shift—Massey nails it without a single word. It’s a performance that doesn’t demand your attention; it earns it.
Pankaj Tripathi: Effortless Brilliance
Then there’s Pankaj Tripathi, who strolls in as Madhav Mishra—a seemingly ordinary lawyer with a rusted briefcase and a knack for reading people. At first glance, he doesn’t seem like the hero type. But that’s the trick. Tripathi brings such calm, measured energy to the chaos that you instantly feel like you’re in safe hands.
He’s funny without cracking jokes. He’s smart without showing off. And when he speaks, you listen. Madhav becomes the backbone of the show in later seasons, and honestly, every time he’s in a scene, the show just feels… better. Tripathi doesn’t steal scenes. He owns them—quietly, effortlessly.
A Strong Ensemble That Doesn’t Beg for Attention
What was surprising was how much the supporting cast added to the show’s depth. They don’t just orbit around the leads—they bring their gravity.
In the role of Mustafa Bhai, Jackie Shroff is the mentor for Aditya while inside the original slammer. He says Norris’s lines with soothing tenderness, yet makes you uneasy all over. You can never be sure whether he’s helping for kindness or calculation – it’s this uncertain area that forms the most interesting part.
Rucha Inamdar, as Aditya’s sister, is a standout. Her performance is full of the kind of quiet pain that doesn’t scream but sits heavy on your chest. Anupriya Goenka, playing a junior lawyer, brings a quiet determination to her role. She’s not just there to support Madhav—she holds her own.
In later seasons, Kirti Kulhari steps into the spotlight and delivers a performance that’s haunting in its restraint. Swastika Mukherjee, as a grieving mother in Adhura Sach, brings emotional complexity that lingers. And Shweta Basu Prasad, as Advocate Lekha, is sharp, steady, and never once outshone by Tripathi, a rare feat.
Where It Falters
For all its strengths, Criminal Justice does stumble now and then. The pacing, for one, can be uneven. Some episodes drag their feet, others rush through important moments. Season 4 especially feels like it’s trying to do too much, too fast, and ends up losing steam halfway through.
The decision to drop episodes in batches in the latest season didn’t help either. The show works best when you’re immersed in it, episode after episode. Breaking that flow just made the storytelling feel disjointed.
Also, while the show occasionally hints at larger issues—like caste dynamics, gender inequality, or police bias—it rarely digs deep. There’s a lot of potential for commentary, but the show seems hesitant to fully commit to it. At times, even the courtroom scenes lean a little too far into theatrics, which feels out of place in a show that otherwise prides itself on realism.
Also Read…
Wicked: For Good; Release Date, Cast & All the Emerald Tea You Need
Final Verdict
Despite its flaws, Criminal Justice is a rare kind of legal drama—one that trusts the audience to sit with discomfort, to wait for the tension to build, to care about the people caught in the system. It’s not trying to be the next big thriller. It’s trying to be real. And most of the time, it succeeds.
If you’re into layered characters, slow-burn tension, and courtroom scenes that don’t look like TV rehearsals, give this show a shot. It’s far from perfect, but it’s sincere. And in a world full of shows that feel like they’re trying too hard, that kind of sincerity hits different.
Writer – Subham Choudhary