A Review of Call Me Bae
Dharmatic’s Call Me Bae opens with all the trappings of a familiar riches-to-rags narrative—the kind we’ve seen before in shows like Schitt’s Creek, Two Broke Girls, and Arrested Development. The character of Bae (Ananya Panday) feels immediately like a composite of Alexis Rose (Schitt’s Creek), Caroline (Two Broke Girls), and Tahani (The Good Place). In its early episodes, the show over-explains itself, leaving little to the imagination and giving us characters that feel more like caricatures and composites. But stick with it, and Call Me Bae evolves into something more: a critique of modern-day patriarchy and influencer culture.
Deconstructing the "Groomed for Marriage" Trope
At first glance, Call Me Bae offers empowerment that feels largely cosmetic, leaning heavily into girl boss feminism. The show’s heavy-handed exposition in the early episodes feels like it’s trying too hard, more concerned with caricatures than character depth. Bae’s journey follows the tired path of a young woman groomed to be the perfect bride. Yet the series gradually critiques this deeply embedded societal expectation, using Bae’s character to poke fun at the absurdity of how women are still molded to fit narrow roles.
What Call Me Bae does well is slowly undercutting its own veneer. Bae’s superficiality is both mocked and embraced, creating a layered character who begins to challenge her own assumptions, albeit in a light-hearted way.
However, the show is still somewhat trapped in a version of feminism that feels dated. The story, co-written by Ishita Moitra, Samina Motlekar, and Rohit Nair, takes some sweeping liberties with how journalism and credibility work, but it’s clear this is all in service of comedy. Accuracy takes a back seat to laughs.
There’s a wedding mock scene that’s pure gold—it's a hilarious and scathing commentary on the performative Big Fat Indian Wedding, where everything is filtered through the lens of Instagram perfection.
A Refreshing Take on the Chick Flick Genre
If you’re after something easy and light, Call Me Bae will surprise you. Though its early attempts at empowerment feel performative, the show eventually finds its feet. Ananya Panday, fresh off Kho Gaye Hum Kahan, brings a vulnerability to Bae that makes the character, and her redemption, believable. The show, like Panday’s portrayal, evolves from superficial caricature into something more.
In the end, Call Me Bae is a satirical look at influencer culture, offering a bougie, bubblegum binge that mirrors the "influencer" zeitgeist. It’s the sugary treat we’ve come to expect from a world obsessed with image—one that will have you scrolling for the next dopamine hit, long after the credits roll.
Comments