The Burden of Being Yourself

useless. slut. bad girl.

That is all that Ramya is to the world.

Bad Girl follows Ramya from her teens into her 30s, letting us sit inside her inner world which is confused, hurt, yet kind. She feels everything deeply: joy, anger, frustration, grief. She is not someone who fully knows who she is or what she wants. She is confused, searching and stubborn. Yet she is never afraid to stand apart if that is what it takes to stay true to herself. She is fiercely authentic, even when it costs her, and she demands the space to be that version of herself. It is refreshing to see a female-centric film that allows its lead to be imperfect, contradictory, honest, and raw.

The core of the film is watching her slowly learn to live life on her own terms. Watching people her age sprint through society’s timeline while she crawls behind in marriage, kids, stability, adds a pressure that so many of us know too well.

You can judge Ramya all you want, but there is a bit of her in all of us: the confusion, the exhaustion, the craving for independence.

One of the most beautiful threads is Ramya’s evolving dynamic with her mother.She struggles to bring herself to even say “I love you, ma.” There is a scene in the kitchen where her mother confesses her fear: Ramya’s friends are moving on with marriages and families while Ramya remains single, and she worries Ramya might feel lonely.

“Who will take care of you when we’re gone?”

Ramya’s sharp but truthful reply,

“When? Who takes care of you, ma?”

hits like a punch. It is an indictment of what womanhood has been for previous generations: women who remain lonely inside “happy marriages,” perpetually caretaking but never cared for. Not even by their own daughters sometimes. (equally guilty as I state this)

The film tackles female generational trauma gradually. Ramya’s realisation that everything she enjoys today is built on what her mothers and grandmothers had to give up, on their exhausting battle for independence, lands with force. She sees that her mother was also a victim of patriarchy, doing the best she knew for her child. It reminded me of what my own mother always says: most parents simply do what they think is best for their children, but no parent is a perfect individual to always be right. Ramya eventually learns it was never really her mother that caused her pain.

Selvi is the friend every girl needs in her life. It was refreshing to watch female friendships portrayed in a good light, as honest and tender. Even when Ramya repeats the same mistakes again and again, Selvi and the others never judge her. They simply protect her, nudge her, stay regardless.

Visually, the film is strong: sharp cuts, raw storytelling, and an attention to detail that makes every era they take us through feel convincing. I loved that the teen version of Ramya actually looked like a teen, with acne, frizzy curly hair, and the awkward styling of the early 2010s. Authentic and not glamorised for the screen.

Anjali Sivaraman as Ramya is perfect casting. Her dialogue delivery, her physicality, her restraint, all of it worked for me. She fully inhabits this messy, compassionate, authentic woman.

The dark humour running through the film keeps everything grounded. The funeral scene, the messy arguments with Arjun, and countless small moments make you question whether we ever truly understand our own feelings.

Someone mentioned that this reminded them of Lady Bird, and I agree. Not because it copies, but because it shares that same spirit: chaotic girlhood becoming womanhood.

Shades of Ramya.

Shades of womanhood.

Yes, Ramya is confused, chaotic and messy, but she is also soft, brave, and deeply herself.

The film opens with Ramya’s dreams, a peep into her subconscious. Some might call them absurd or strange, but they are simply her inner world. The story looping back to the same dream in the end, now unfolding differently, was a beautiful, thoughtful touch.

But the only bone I have to pick with the makers is their inability to explore Ramya beyond her tragic love life. For a bold feminist tale, her story is still not entirely her own, because so much of it is framed through how she navigates the men she dates. We get brief and intriguing glimpses into Ramya’s dreams and inner world, but the film could have dug deeper. Her career, her ambitions, her sense of purpose outside romance deserved more space. There is so much more to Ramya than the people she loved and lost, and the film only brushes the surface of that potential.

But that aside, Bad Girl was still a brave attempt. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but definitely mine.

Overall, yes, I wholeheartedly recommend this messy yet wholesome portrayal of womanhood.

By Bhadra

evolving. becoming. being.