Akka Review: Keerthy Suresh-Radhika Apte Unleash Their Own 'Game Of Thrones'

It's been a while since a project as heavily and spectacularly dominated by women as Akka has made its way to our screens. That's not to say we haven't had such stories now and then. There have been Little Women, The Handmaid's Tale and even Gangubai Kathiawadi, all led by women whose strength to rise above and command their own will eventually always comes through.

Crime thriller series Akka, directed and written by debutant Dharmaraj Shetty and produced by YRF Entertainment (Yash Raj Films), is a very interesting exploration of women upholding the long-standing traditions of the fictional South Indian town of Perunuru in the 1980s. Situated between the Western Ghats and the Arabian Sea, Perunuru is a woman's world. Here, a fastidious women's clan spanning generations holds authority, and it is the men who have to bow down to them.

There are many reasons why Akka stands out. Due credit must be given to production designer Laxmi Keluskar, who creates a lush visual canvas. The attention to detail in depicting South Indian traditions, homes and the surroundings of a 1980s town nestled in nature is remarkable. The fantastic costumes put together by the talented Sheetal Sharma of Gangubai Kathiawadi fame frame the story beautifully. The Indianness of the show particularly stands out in a narrative that demands its culture to be represented so effortlessly.

The plot of Akka revolves around an all-female gangster syndicate and an intense rivalry between two formidable women - Bhavani (Keerthy Suresh) and Rudra (Radhika Apte). Decades and centuries of matriarchal order across the three tribal divisions of Perunuru - Malemar, Herkada and Perplady, are suddenly disrupted when the mysterious outsider Rudra arrives, threatening the very legacy established by the coven of Perunuru's sisterhood. The show keeps travelling back and forth between timelines, giving viewers a glimpse into the origins of the sisters' clan in Perunuru and the power it cultivated over the years.

Radhika Apte, Netflix's poster child, is once again on a roll. She is a delight to watch as she waltzes in with an air of vengeance and ambition to dethrone the 'Akka' of Perunuru. Spread across five crisp episodes, the grey layers of her character add greater depth to the deep-seated rivalries between the two leads, Keerthy and Radhika.

Keerthy Suresh as Bhavani is a beautiful blend of vulnerability and fierceness. She is determined to protect her family's 800-year-old empire and legacy governing the region's local territories and trade. But she finds herself at odds when her entire world is upended by the arrival of the outsider, Rudra.

Caught between duty, responsibility and emotions as they continue to pile up with the death of each elderly family member, Bhavani is forced to make difficult decisions, and it doesn't get any easier.

It is only as the story progresses that you realise Rudra is not the 'outsider' we initially consider her to be.

Some of the best scenes in the series are the confrontations between Radhika Apte's Rudra and Keerthy Suresh's Bhavani. They threaten, they challenge, and it all culminates in a violent climax that is marvellous to watch.

Marvellous because of the stylish action sequences featuring the lead and supporting cast of gun-toting women who stop at nothing. The last two episodes truly have the potential to win over audiences completely. Keerthy Suresh's character does both the expected and the unexpected, while Radhika Apte's Rudra almost makes you feel sorry for her despite her selfish and ruthless approach to life and the people around her.

The show does a decent job of not going overboard with preaching about women's rights and a world where men do not dictate their choices. Perunuru is a town that celebrates the arrival of a girl child. Times may have changed, but there are still some isolated parts of India where the birth of a girl is not as celebrated as that of a boy. But in the world of Akka, a girl child is wished and prayed for.

Education and employment are every woman's right. Here, women are not forced into marriage. In fact, they are often held back from it because it is seen as a distraction from safeguarding Perunuru's legacy.

There is the brilliant Tanvi Azmi, who plays one of the matriarchs of Perunuru, addressing the pertinent issue of low birth rates. But the clever writing also interjects this with the dialogue, "Pehda karo, but sambhal ke, aurton ko aur bhi kaam hai."

Such is the sense of duty among the women in Akka that they are willing to sacrifice anybody and everybody in pursuit of their goals, even if it means having their hearts broken. Here, sisterhood rules as patriarchy takes a back seat. And that is the most liberating aspect of the show.

Having said that, there are men here too, just that they do not call the shots. There's Anshuman Pushkar and Mahesh Manjrekar, who play key characters in the plot. The latter even delivers a major reveal in the final minutes of the first season, leaving the door open for a second installment.

Akka is a well-made show, and its intentions align perfectly with the storytelling on screen. The powerful performances only elevate the premise. Here, the debate is not about men versus women; it is more about the saying, "A woman is a woman's greatest enemy." And this is where the fictional world of the show often becomes blurry and reality begins to take over.