Netflix’s The Royals isn’t subtle. It wears its opulence, clichés, and chest exposure like a king’s gaudy crown — and somehow, that’s part of its charm. The new Indian series, starring Ishaan Khatter and Bhumi Pednekar, throws a modern love story into the mix of collapsing palaces, startup dreams, and ancient family drama. It doesn’t always stick the landing, but it’s hard not to binge.
The show leans heavily on style, but rarely loses its grip on entertainment
Set in the fictional kingdom of Morpur, The Royals imagines what Indian aristocracy might look like if it existed today — and if it was desperate to stay relevant. Khatter plays Aviraaj “Fizzy” Singh, a polo-playing prince with a penchant for letting his buttons float free. Pednekar is Sophia, a no-nonsense CEO trying to turn Morpur’s royal mansion into a luxury Airbnb for the masses.
Their clash of egos fuels the series. It’s a classic rom-com setup dressed in brocade and bedazzled with daggers—both verbal and metaphorical. The chemistry between Ishaan and Bhumi isn’t the typical glittery romance. It’s more combustible. She’s sharp. He’s brooding. And they both refuse to play second fiddle to each other. This dynamic alone keeps the show from sliding into complete predictability.
Behind the glitter, there’s a lot of tired tropes trying to keep up
For all its visual flair, The Royals often stumbles over its own ambition. The script tries to juggle family betrayals, gender politics, queer subplots, influencer culture, and startup jargon — sometimes all in one episode. The result is a bit of a narrative traffic jam. Characters often sound like they’re pitching ideas instead of having real conversations. When someone says, “Do ‘Gram the hell out of us,” it feels more like a marketing slogan than dialogue.
Still, the show isn’t aiming for deep introspection. It wants to be frothy, and it mostly succeeds. The palaces gleam, the wardrobes overflow, and the dukes and duchesses never seem to have a day off from looking flawless. Even when the plot drags, the production design keeps you watching. It’s Bridgerton meets Game of Thrones in an Indian haveli — with a lot more Instagram references.
Secondary characters add flavor, even when they’re undercooked
Fizzy’s siblings—Diggy, the closeted chef with reality TV dreams, and Jinnie, the unsure bisexual flirt—could have been interesting subplots. Instead, they mostly orbit around the main drama without much traction. Sakshi Tanwar’s Rani Maa swings between iron-willed matriarch and emotionally lost mother, depending on what the scene demands. Zeenat Aman’s grand dame Bhagyashree Devi is more background decoration than destabilizing force, though her occasional one-liners hint at what could have been.
Even with uneven writing, some of the ensemble manages to break through. Vihaan Samat brings quiet intensity as Diggy, and Dino Morea looks like he’s having more fun than anyone else in the palace. Nora Fatehi and Milind Soman make cameo sparks that briefly ignite the otherwise slow-burning subplot highways.
Why the shirtless prince trope might actually work here
The trailers made a lot of noise about Ishaan Khatter’s bare chest, and honestly, the show leans into it more than it probably should. But there’s a tongue-in-cheek quality to it. Aviraaj’s emotional journey is often mirrored by how many buttons he’s undone. It’s silly, sure, but it’s also consistent. And as Netflix India’s Rangita Pritish Nandy admitted, “It’s a lot of times, and nobody’s going to be complaining.”
What matters more is that Khatter grounds Fizzy in just enough humanity to make his royal meltdown watchable. He broods, he lords, he loves — and sometimes he just looks good doing it. Bhumi Pednekar, meanwhile, steps into Sophia’s heels with confidence. She gives a character that could’ve been a cliché — the “aam kumari” turned glam CEO — some real teeth and texture.
The Royals isn’t flawless, but it’s undeniably binge-worthy
Does The Royals break new ground? No. Does it sometimes talk down to its audience with buzzword-heavy dialogue? Yep. Does it rely a bit too much on visual glamour to mask shallow plot points? Absolutely. But beneath all that, it’s a show that knows what it wants to be — and mostly pulls it off.
It’s about power, image, and the messy human emotions stuck underneath both. It’s about a dying legacy trying to stay alive through Instagram likes and luxury experiences. And it’s about two stubborn people turning a dysfunctional family drama into something... watchable.
Whether you love it, hate it, or just find yourself glued to it anyway, The Royals makes one thing clear: Indian OTT royalty is here, and it’s not playing politely.