#House of secrets series

The Chundawat family are described by those who knew them as normal but reserved, friendly and tight knit, if somewhat removed from the community. Chopra and Yadav are concerned not with solving this case but with showing how, even when presented with compelling evidence, we can never know all the answers. It certainly isn’t here, even if the images themselves aren’t as bloody as some scenes we’ve paid witness to on Netflix.īut House of Secrets is a merciful step up from recent examples like Sons of Sam and The Night Stalker, two miniseries that viewed journalistic ethics as something of a nuisance. Such lurid moments are dishearteningly expected in the genre but I’ve yet to find an example where such exploitation has felt necessary to the narrative. This also means that, yes, we do see a lot of crime scene photos. Yes, there are drone shots and glossy landscapes and close-ups of photographs designed to seem more unnerving than they probably were in a regular context.

Even outside of American productions, the format is rigidly followed, as seen in House of Secrets.

#House of secrets series

I have to wonder if every director making a true crime film or series for Netflix is handed a style guide beforehand, one they’re contractually obliged to follow. Their formula and visual foundations are so painfully overused that they’ve reached the point of parody.

As someone who has watched an awful lot of said programmes, often while wincing, I’m perhaps a tad too familiar with the streaming service’s assembly line of murder, mayhem, and memes. Created by Anubhav Chopra and Leena Yadav, the latter of whom has several feature films under her belt, this three-part series is yet another addition to Netflix’s vast library of true crime.