GUEST POST: A Dabba Review Of Dabba Cartel

Or, more politely, anatomy of a Netflix series review. PS: this substack avoids use of the word 'sassy'

A still from the Netflix series.

BY PRERNA SUBRAMANIAN, Assistant Professor at O.P Jindal Global University

Film reviewer Shilajit Mitra watched a show about women running a cartel and immediately felt the need to reassure the world that, no, women are not actually that competent, that ruthless, or that interesting. His review of Dabba Cartel is less of a critique and more of a carefully constructed security blanket, lovingly stitched together with nostalgia, double standards, and that ever-reliable fear of women having too much fun in genres previously gatekept by men.

Read Mitra’s review of Dabba Cartel at the link below:

‘Dabba Cartel’ series review: Shabana Azmi, Jyotika show doesn’t take off

Mitra labels the female leads as “stock,” an adjective carefully reserved for women because when men do the same things, it’s called genre-defining. Perhaps Dabba Cartel should have included a brooding man with a cigarette addiction and a tortured past; then it could have been hailed as gritty, realistic, nuanced. But alas, here we are, forced to accept that women running a cartel could never have depth, complexity, or—God forbid—agency.

Mitra opens by sighing wistfully about Mandi (1983), a brilliant film, no doubt. But what is this rhetorical move, exactly? A reminder that Dabba Cartel will never measure up to a feminist classic from 40 years ago? Imagine reviewing Sacred Games by saying- But you know, Satya was better. The comparison is not just pointless; it’s a deliberate act of diminishment. If a woman has been great once, she must be haunted by that greatness forever.

Breaking Bad: A chemistry teacher builds an international drug empire. John Wick: A man massacres 300 people because someone killed his dog. These are masterpieces. But when a group of women run a cartel? Now, suddenly, plausibility really matters. The suspension of disbelief that critics extend so freely to male-led crime dramas is revoked the second women are the ones pulling the trigger.

Mitra generously concedes that Dabba Cartel is “fun” and “sass-filled,” which is code for: It’s cute, but don’t worry, boys, it won’t threaten your prestige TV lineup. This is the same tone people use when patting children on the head for finishing a puzzle. Women in crime dramas must always be framed as a delightful experiment, rather than a legitimate claim to the genre.

The review takes great care to outline the emotional and professional struggles of the male characters, while the women—who are literally leading a cartel—are labeled “stock.” Male complexity is a given; female complexity is an inconvenience. The unspoken message? Women can play in the sandbox, sure, but they must remain side characters in their own stories.

Mitra’s review is not about Dabba Cartel; it’s about the discomfort men feel when women step into the roles they’ve hoarded for decades. The real cartel isn’t in the show—it’s in film criticism, where the same old double standards are recycled under the guise of critical analysis by a group of film dudebros. But sure, let’s pretend this is just about TV. Stay mad.