The choice of using ‘Freedom At Midnight’, Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre’s account of the tumultuous build-up to India’s independence in August 1947, as the basis for the seven-part web series of the same name achieves one thing above all else: adapting from source material which has been in existence for several years, especially from the celebrity author duo who couldn’t be accused of being either pro-India, or pro-Pakistan, frees creator and director Nikkhil Advani of being accused similar bias.

On paper, ‘Vijay 69’ must have felt like a splendid idea. Old men dodder. They don’t go about being potty-mouthed, or making sad sex jokes. How about getting Vijay Mathew, a ripe 69, to have a vocabulary which is more foul than fair, even if he has reached grandfather status? Next, how about setting him an impossible task? Even the fittest baulk at attempting the triathlon. Why not get our elderly hero to have a dash at it? Vijay lives in a house surrounded by the memories of his dead wife, the only one who used to encourage him in his endeavours, the chief of which seems to be getting ranked in a swimming race. Everyone else, including his dearest friend Fali (Chunky Panday donning a grey wig and the broadest Parsi accent that can be mustered), thinks he’s gone bananas.

First things first: all hail the arrival of Samantha Ruth Prabhu, Indian cinema’s first real female action star who demands our attention from the get-go and never loses it through the six part series, Citadel: Honey Bunny. She’s coiled, ready for action, exploding off the screen whenever the script demands it of her, and the demand stays consistently high. As the family woman-cum-spry spy, who will do anything to protect her daughter, Samantha’s Honey is the best part of this enterprise, directed and written by Raj and DK (Sita Menon also gets writing and directing credit), and executive produced by the Russo Bros.

All right folks, we are back in the labyrinth. For a third time. Lots of stuff that we remember from the earlier outings. Creaky two-hundred-year-old Bengali havelis. Locked rooms. Vengeful ‘aatmas’. Ghosts who flit about. And characters who spout their lines, and vanish.

They say that the fount of all Indian fiction are the two epics, Ramayan and Mahabharat. Rohit Shetty seems to have taken this old saying to heart because Ajay Devgn’s eponymous Bajirao Singham is none other than a latter-day Maryada Purushottam Ram, his wife Avni (Kareena Kapoor Khan) is the faithful Sita, and all the other characters play their parallels in this version of Kalyug-ke-Ram Ki Katha. The result is loud and tedious, and instantly forgettable.

‘Do Patti’ comes armed with much promise. It is the first offering of a brand new female-led production house, with producer-actor Kriti and writer Kanika Dhillon having created an interesting ensemble led by Kajol, popular TV actor Shaheer Sheikh, Tanvi Azmi, Brijendra Kala and Vivek Mushran. What’s not to like? Turns out, quite a lot.

Zindaginama tackles a set of mental health issues through six episodes, targeting a different one each time. What happens when a human begins believing in an alt reality? Purple Duniya’s protagonist, a terrific Tanmay Dhanania, sets out ostensibly to go to work, like regular folks do. But that’s all a sham. His total focus lies in the game he plays obsessively, constantly, forgetting to eat or drink. Or communicate with his sister. Therapy can help, but to what extent? And who wins finally, man or machine? Sahaan Hattangadi writes, and co-directs with Danny Mamik.

With Ctrl, a cautionary tale about the world’s obsession and our near-total dependence on online apps, Vikramaditya Motwane has moved firmly into the future. Or is it the present? Isn’t this what the geeks have been creating with their gaming universes, where your digital avatars are the better, shinier versions of you? Where they slay all the monsters, and leave you — or rather, your avatar — fully in control?