A chilling cat-and-mouse on Netflix
Streaming doesn’t often get this taut. Jim Sarbh steps into the skin of Carl Bhojraj—an unsettling figure drawn from the life and methods of Charles Sobhraj—for Netflix’s Inspector Zende, which premiered on September 5, 2025. He’s paired with Manoj Bajpayee, who brings the quiet, flinty resolve you expect in a veteran cop drama. The film, directed by Chinmay Mandlekar, is loosely based on the real arrest of Sobhraj by Mumbai police officer Madhukar Zende.
Sarbh has been candid about the pressure of sharing the frame with Bajpayee, saying he felt “slightly frightened” and “a bit on edge” through parts of the shoot. That tension shows up on screen in a good way. The power dynamic is the story: a calculating suspect who never blinks, and a dogged officer who refuses to chase noise when patience will do.
Bhojraj isn’t a one-to-one portrayal of Sobhraj, but the inspiration is clear. Sobhraj earned the nickname “The Serpent” for slipping past borders and suspects across Asia in the 1970s. The film nods to that aura without turning it into a greatest-hits reel of crimes. Instead, it keeps its eyes on process—what it takes to corner someone who treats charm like a weapon, and how police work often advances in inches, not leaps.
Bajpayee, cast as Inspector Zende, plays him like a man who has seen more than he says. There are no big speeches. He lets the silences work, and the silences do a lot. Sarbh counters with a stillness that reads as menace. When the two share a frame, the body language—who sits, who stands, who looks away—does most of the talking.
Mandlekar’s direction favors psychology over gore. The film avoids stylish excess and keeps the color palette and pacing grounded. You get the rhythm of paperwork, the low hum of tips and dead ends, and the jolt when a long wait finally pays off. It’s not flashy, and that’s the point: method beats theatrics.
The “loosely based” label matters. The real Madhukar Zende famously tracked and arrested Sobhraj in the mid-1980s, cornering him in Goa—a story retold so often it’s almost folklore among crime buffs. The film borrows the spine of that hunt and builds a fresh thriller around it, swapping exact dates and locations for mood and momentum. That choice frees the actors to explore the why, not just the what.
True crime, responsibility, and the pull of a pursuit
True-crime stories are having a long moment in India, and Inspector Zende fits the wave without riding its worst impulses. There’s no fetishizing violence here. The storytelling asks how charisma can hide in plain sight and why institutions struggle to keep up when a suspect understands their blind spots.
For viewers who followed the 2021 series The Serpent, the name Charles Sobhraj will ring loud. This film doesn’t try to retell that version or argue with it. It uses the mythology—slippery, seductive, always two steps ahead—as a frame to examine a different axis: the steady hand of an investigator who believes pressure works best in silence.
Netflix has leaned into gritty Indian procedurals and character dramas because audiences clearly show up for them. Inspector Zende lands in that lane—part manhunt, part psychological chess match. What keeps it engaging isn’t shock value but the textured push-and-pull between Bajpayee’s watchful restraint and Sarbh’s coiled calm.
It also sidesteps a common pitfall: worshipping the criminal. Bhojraj is magnetic, yes, but the film doesn’t mistake magnetism for virtue. It shows the cost of obsession, on both sides of the table, and how thin the line can look when a pursuit drags on for months.
Press around the release has focused on craft and performances, not personal histories. Questions about Sarbh’s family background have mostly stayed off the table; the conversation has been about the work, his approach to a morally slippery role, and what it was like to stand across from Bajpayee and try not to blink first.
As a viewing experience, Inspector Zende is lean and tense. If you’re here for fireworks, you won’t find many. If you’re into the slow tightening of a knot—the small tells, the quiet feints, the moment a suspect realizes the room has one door—you’ll likely be hooked. And if you’re curious how a storied real-life arrest can be reshaped into a new thriller without losing its pulse, this one makes a solid case.
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