Tamil/1h55m/2025

Synopsis: Ramya, a teenager, thinks that her life will be ‘complete’ if she gets a boyfriend. She even carries this idea into adulthood, which only seems to complicate matters for her. She also feels suffocated by her mother, who expects her to be a ‘good’ girl, abiding by cultural norms. Can Ramya get out of this loop and figure out what she truly wants? 

Review: 

A woman openly confesses her sexual desire, consumes alcohol, hooks up with more than one guy, threatens her mother that she would exist only on her terms—all enough to trigger most of the Tamil population, and that’s exactly what happened when the trailer of ‘Bad Girl’ came out. There was also enough outrage across various caste groups, as the trailer mocked brahminical customs. Now, after overcoming numerous obstacles, the film has finally hit theatres. So, here’s the question—has Varsha’s ‘Bad Girl’ lived up to the buzz? YES, but it doesn’t hit hard—it feels like a blunt knife. 

(film’s prologue)

The film is set against an urban Brahminical backdrop, obviously conservative, where the protagonist, Ramya (Anjali Sivaraman), struggles to navigate her life. From the start, we see a pacy screenplay, unusual close-ups, and intercuts. It almost conveys Ramya’s nature without being overly dramatic, showing her wild fantasies and mischievous side. ​

We often see Ramya teasing her grandma by doing something ‘inappropriate’ and contrary to her beliefs. There are also bits and pieces of shots that satirically depict brahminical symbols (like the Gods and photo frames with caste marks), signaling that Ramya is likely to act against their beliefs. 

We see Ramya’s character taking shape as soon as she enters school. She’s a backbencher and struggles academically; she crushes over a boy who has ‘veins’ in his hands and doesn’t hesitate to steal his pencil. Such depictions feel entirely new to Tamil audiences (especially for men), given the usual focus on male-centric characters—backbenchers and teenage desires have mostly been shown through a male lens. It’s therefore a relief to see an honest portrayal of a female character. ​

(the daughter-mother combo)

Another interesting part of the film is Ramya’s relationship with her mother (Santhi Priya). It neither glorifies nor villainizes her. In fact, Varsha tries to show us that her mother is like an earlier version of Ramya. For instance, when Ramya’s family learns about her romantic relationship (a blow to the family’s honour), soon her grandma blames Ramya’s mother for failing to raise her properly, placing the burden on her. She also indirectly slutshames her, suggesting that the independence of Ramya’s mother bothered the earlier generation—just as Ramya’s independence bothers her mother. ​

Yet the mother doesn’t badmouth her daughter; instead, she tries to understand her, like us. Several moments also place mother and daughter side by side, often framed vividly together—we often find solace in their relationship, not just through brilliant writing, but also through the artists’ tremendous performance. Ramya’s main issue with her mother is that she showers love in a way that ‘chokes’ her, leaving little room to breathe—yet she also comes to understand parts of her mother in her early thirties. 

Talking about her thirties, this is where Ramya slowly starts to think for herself. In one conversation, she says that she hasn’t been single since the age of 15. It shows how she has placed her romantic relationships above her emotional well-being. She also mentions how her recent relationship with Irfan (Teejay) ‘healed’ her—she finally thinks about healing, but again, there’s a man in the convo, highlighting she’s still a work in progress. 

(parts that could have been better)

Towards the end, she thinks the exact opposite of her earlier feelings—the house that once seemed like a bird’s nest with a partner becomes her own space, where the man is optional. This emotional shift sits well with us, yet it also feels abrupt, as the film shows the protagonist’s change only superficially. 

The ideas Ramya shares at the end feel forced—while the film does highlight the generational differences between grandma, mother, and daughter, we never really see her thinking, ‘I’m someone who’s going to break the generational curse.’ More often, we see her simply wondering what’s wrong with her. ​

There are also other parts that feel cluttered. Apart from seeing Ramya surrounded by supportive friends, the college portion doesn’t stand out. A clear example is the scene where she punches her boyfriend for betraying her—the blow looks strong on screen, but it doesn’t carry any emotional weight. This is because we don’t really see her navigating college life the way we saw her in school; both her emotions and the screenplay feel underdeveloped. ​

This section may also feel less impactful due to the lifestyle and language depicted, which viewers from other social backgrounds may find alienating. While it is understandable that the director draws from her own experience, it is still the creator’s duty to present ideas in a way that wider audiences can understand, even if they can’t fully relate. 

A useful comparison is Shuchi Talati’s ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ (another urban story about a teenager’s desire), which almost conveyed the protagonist’s emotions despite its specific social setting. We don’t see this in the college portion, which makes us feel somewhat disconnected from Ramya compared to other parts of the film. Also, in most parts, the protagonist hardly encounters any ‘patriarchal retaliation’ and makes choices with ease, without upsetting anybody, anything—perhaps, there could have been some tweaks in this part.

The final verdict? 

Had the film been more emotionally tight and gentler in certain aspects, Bad Girl would’ve been even more powerful. Yet its unique voice is undeniable—it reminds us that women don’t need to be perfect to exist; they can stumble, have failed relationships like men, and need not have everything figured out. In short, it allows them to be human.  

The film also challenges the notion that women cannot craft ‘technically brilliant cinema’. Amit Trivedi’s music elevates the film further. Let Varsha’s work open the door for more ‘bad girls’ and different versions of ‘cat-ladies’ to enter Tamil cinema, each bringing their own unique experiences to the table.