Fact, fiction, or something else? Why Indian cinema is borrowing from reality

From gritty docuseries to historical narratives, Indian audiences’ appetite for true crime isn’t showing any sign of waning. But when does taking creative liberty risk crossing the line?   

When reality feels stranger than fiction, there’s a unique thrill in seeing events unfold exactly as they occurred—like the scene of Ranga’s botched up hanging in the Netflix crime drama series Black Warrant (2025-), based on the eponymous book by journalist Sunetra Choudhury and former jailer at Tihar Jail, Sunil Gupta. Yet, the series director Satyanshu Singh sees beyond the sensationalism. “That’s still the more sensational and superficial way of looking at it. I’m more invested in the fact that these people lived and did all these mean or great things, because therein lies the possibility of exploring who we are, and what we can be, on both sides of the spectrum as a species.”

The fascination with real-life drama isn’t new. In 2020, Delhi Crime (2019-), —based on the investigation of the 2012 Delhi gang rape and murder—became the first-ever series from India to win Best Drama Series at the International Emmy Awards, highlighting the nation’s growing appetite for authenticity—one that continues to grow. In a May 2024 analysis of the 52 documentaries released on  India’s major streaming platforms across languages since 2019, 40 per cent were true crime, reflecting a broader cultural craving for gritty, fact-inspired storytelling. 

Are films based on true stories always historically accurate? 

When a film or series adapts real incidents, it connects audiences to engage with history on an emotional level, making distant events feel personal and immediate. Director Jai Mehta, who has co-directed Scam1992: The Harshad Mehta Story (2020-) and directed Lootere (2024), emphasises that while the goal isn’t purely historical accuracy, it reveals universal truths about human behaviour. “But the takeaway is about how ambition, desperation, and systemic failures intertwine, and understanding human nature through history,” he adds, noting how the story of stockbroker and businessman Harshad Mehta introduced the younger generations of viewers to him. 

However, it is important to remember that these adaptations aren’t actual history lessons. Google the facts yourself, and let them be a gateway for research. 

Film critic Abhimanyu Mathur often pauses while watching shows like Rocket Boys (2022-2023) to immediately learn fact from fiction, admitting to falling into a deep rabbit hole on Reddit.  “Cinema based on true stories works if it’s something etched in pop culture, like American killer Jeffery Dahmer, the Aarushi Talwar murder, or the OJ Simpson case. Or even something unheard-of, like the docuseries Dancing on the Grave (2023) about the Shakereh Khaleeli murder case, which was such a big deal over 30 years ago. It’s like how Gen Z would react to the murders of Jessica Lal (1999) or Priyadarshini Mattoo (1996) today,” says Mathur. The appetite to explore these figures—like Bunty, the "super-chor" from Vikaspuri, Delhi, portrayed in Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye! (2008), or Charles Sobhraj in The Serpent (2021)—reveals the lasting power of real-life narratives. 

Biopics, meanwhile, usually resort to hero-worshipping. For instance, the Vicky Kaushal-starrer Chhaava (2025) about Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj will get more viewers interested in the life of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, creating a snowball effect. 

“When you find heroes in real life, it affirms your faith in people,” says Singh, who watched the Ben Kingsley-starrer Gandhi (1982) alongside the lesser known  documentary The Making of the Mahatma (1996). The latter featured a younger Mahatma Gandhi helping injured soldiers. “It made me wonder—I admire this man, but can I step out and do what he did? That was a turning point for me and my political involvement in the world around me; I started speaking up,” explains Singh. 

Why Films Based on True Stories Resonate Across Generations 

Cinema compels the viewer to introspect, and to think and challenge their perspective, not just act as a celebration. “In Black Warrant, every character is three-dimensional, dealing with difficulties, desires and conflict, which makes them more accessible,” says actor Zahaan Kapoor, who essayed the character of Sunil Gupta. Gupta was the jailer at Tihar Jail when Ranga-Billa, the rapist-murderers of two Delhi teenagers, were hanged in 1982. 

“These stories make viewers wonder what it must be like to be in the character’s position, how it would challenge their own moral code, and if they will sink or swim when faced with adversity. Which is also a celebration, because it shows the character reaping the fruits of perseverance and sticking by their values, which can be a highlight of contemporary history,” explains Kapoor. 

The key lies in finding the universal emotional and thematic trends that transcend time—greed, ambition, betrayal, and survival—that make the story more compelling and relatable. “Making something set in a different time period isn’t just about what happened but why [it happened] and if it would still happen today,” says Mehta, explaining that the stock market in the 1990s was quite different from the present day, but the allure of taking shortcuts, the hunger for amassing wealth overnight, and the dangers of unchecked power remain the same, making the show familiar to an audience that didn’t live through that particular era. 

Singh echoes this statement, sharing: “The joy [experienced] when you succeed, fear during a trying time, anger when wronged, and the grief of losing someone will always be relevant. Which is why we won’t be able to do our job well as storytellers if we are primarily driven by ideologies and themes instead of our desire to tell a story that is emotionally relevant.”  

How important is accuracy in films based on true stories? 

Even though cinema is an art form, factual accuracy is crucial—far beyond the whims of the box office. And so, films like No One Killed Jessica (2011), and series including Scoop (2023) and Scam 1992 (2020), stuck to using real names and timelines.

Yet, maintaining accuracy in films and television shows in India is often complicated due to legal constraints. “Films like Manoj Bajpayee-starrer Sirf Ek Bandaa Kaafi Hai (2023), based on the trial of godman Asaram Bapu for the rape of a minor, only retained the name of the lawyer because they only had rights to that,” informs Mathur. In contrast, in the West, multiple series about OJ Simpson have been created, and, more recently, a documentary on the Menendez brothers—serving life sentence in prison for killing their parents—on Netflix, without any fear of the makers being sued. Meanwhile, the Diljit Dosanjh-starrer Punjab '95, the story of human rights activist Jaswant Singh Khalra, has failed to get clearance for a release. “If Kangana Ranaut, a Member of Parliament from the ruling party can’t get her film to release on time—Emergency (2025) was delayed by four months—then what chance does anyone else have?” asks Mathur.  

When do creative liberties in films based on true events cross a line?

Taking creative liberties is sometimes essential in storytelling—real life doesn’t always have a clear narrative structure and can even have legal or historical ramifications. “You can’t change how a person’s intent is portrayed, or the fundamental truth of the event. Misinformation, even unintentionally, can have real-world consequences,” points out Mehta. 

There’s a sense of respect and the intent to honour the original story and the people involved. “You want to do right by them,” says Kapoor, describing the pressure he felt. “You want the story to be compelling with a sense of sincerity, but also not be manipulative. That’s when the ethos of the maker comes in, as it decides how honest and vulnerable the film or show is,” says Kapoor, who learned how to offer namaaz, multiple prayers, besides researching the history of Islam for his titular role in Faraaz (2022), an action thriller based on the terrorist attack at a cafe in Dhaka in July 2016. With Black Warrant's Sunil Gupta, it was different. “I couldn’t be a carbon copy of him because it’s not about mimicking him but capturing his essence,” says Kapoor, who felt Gupta’s family’s picking on how Kapoor channeled Gupta’s fear, most gratifying. 

India has recently seen a surge of politically-motivated stories which have often brought overdue recognition to individuals who might otherwise have remained unnoticed. But some also end up doing a disservice. The filmmaker’s intention plays a critical role in determining the portrayal's authenticity. “Why you’re telling any story is paramount, which is how you pick which facts to retain or omit,” says Singh, who admits they invented a fictional character (Dahiya) in Black Warrant to create a sub-plot for dramatic impact. “You can’t be hundred per cent  objective and will make some mistakes when you’re dealing with sensitive subjects like capital punishment,” admits Singh, acknowledging that they might have been too sympathetic towards Ranga and Billa. 

While humanising criminals on screen adds depth to the narrative, Mathur cautions against over-sympathising, particularly when portraying serious offenders. “Cinematic liberties should present people for who they are instead of being disrespectful to the memories of those who can’t speak right now. Casting a drop-dead sexy guy as serial killer Dahmer made him seem cool. But it made sense with Ted Bundy because his blue-eyed disarmingly good looks was his USP,” he explains. 

The thin line between documentaries, reality TV, and fiction 

The line between reality and scripted entertainment is becoming increasingly blurred, leading audiences to question the authenticity of what they’re watching. “Isn’t Keeping Up With The Kardashians (2007-2021) also a documentary, in a way? Shows like Dubai Bling (2022-2025), which are scripted, are the bridge between documentaries and fiction, while offering popcorn entertainment too,” says Mathur, adding that while documentaries are made for intellectual stimulation, films are for emotional stimulation. 

Singh echoes this view, stating with nuance, “Documentaries are the truest form of motion picture storytelling. But they aren’t a hundred per cent  true, because there’s an interviewer and a camera, which makes the person talking perform. The makers choose how to shoot it, the lighting, lens colour, and what to leave out while editing, besides how they juxtapose one line to a person’s face or smirk.” Since documentary makers are more on-ground, making the effort to talk to people, it shines through when they make fiction too: Martin Scorsese, David Lynch, and Steven Spielberg have all made documentaries. And we stand to learn more from their ‘fiction’. Spielberg’s Catch Me If You Can (2002), is about a con man who, when he gets caught, goes into witness protection and starts working with the government to catch other con men. “Putting him in jail not only doesn’t help but is also expensive. Meanwhile, Harshad Mehta died while in custody. He was a smart man who didn’t do anything that was technically illegal, but found a loophole and exploited it because he knew the law like the back of his hand. A lot of other people did the same, but Harshad faced the repercussions. He was the easier target, just like most comedians today,” concludes Mehta. 

Cinema inspired by real-life events resonates most powerfully when it prompts viewers to question morality, grapple with truth, and reflect on human complexities. While historical accuracy remains crucial, its true power often lies in storytelling that sparks empathy, introspection, and critical thought—long after the credits roll.

Also Read: In a tangled web of half-truths and whataboutery, is Indrani Mukerjea victim or criminal?

Also Read: Do we really need Indian adaptations of international TV series?

Also Read: What’s behind the rise of docuseries on OTT platforms?