Scary that Vijay is taking the Modi route of rhetoric speeches/narrative.
A statement/remark against Modi is a remark against Indians/Hindus.
Similarly, Vijay projects that a remark against him is a remark against Tamil people.
Maatru arasiyal indeed!
@keylimepie2000 Like you go back to Blr’s Meghana Foods because of their consistency - the Biryani and Starters taste the same (and great) 8 out of 10 times.
@keylimepie2000 I think it is super hard to be consistent in cooking non veg given the variables in cooking time, masala etc especially the curries/chukkas.
They have managed to crack the code of being consistent in the taste across branches and countries.
Interacting with this for the last time to say that I donated most of my payout to Swabhimaan Trust in Chennai, a trust for adolescents and young adults with autism. I’ve worked with them for my graduation project and they’re doing great work to make different therapies accessible to neurodivergent people
@JioCare - My JioFiber has been down for 15 days. No technician visit, no refund, just excuses. If this is your idea of customer care, it’s honestly appalling. Ticket after ticket, still nothing.
@keylimepie2000@SumedhaUppal Nah, Kalyana Maalai is the ultimate rizz cause you gotta impress a judgemental family.
Anyways, what’s your vetting process like?
Bad Girl is releasing tomorrow (the team shared a screener with me though). This review of mine is spoiler-free, so I figured why not share it?
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Bad Girl gave me great joy.
Oh, man. There's such joy in watching a film that's so fresh in voice and treatment, a film that, like its protagonist Ramya, refuses to play by conventional rules. Take, for instance, the moment when Ramya feels let down by a ‘boyfriend’ and ends up punching him. In another film, the writing would build towards this punch in traditional ways. But Bad Girl isn’t about the men; it’s about Ramya. And so, even while she’s sad and drunk and angry, we see her, like a child, hop and skip on black tiles before she suddenly turns at him. You’d NEVER see this choice in a regular film.
The cinematography and breathless editing make the film intimate and alive. In one scene, Ramya and her mother are in an auto after she’s been caught misbehaving in school. They are arguing, but absolutely out of nowhere, we get inserts of their eyes—the helplessness of the mother, the disdain of Ramya rolling her eyes—before the film cuts to them together again. In form and structure, as much as in its writing, Bad Girl is quite deliberately unsettling—and did I say fresh?
The film, in this sense, is like its protagonist—unruly, disarming, never predictably sentimental. It favours vignettes over traditional narrative arcs. Another film would milk the forced breakup of Ramya and her school boyfriend, but Bad Girl shows you a brief, stylised fragment: she lies down, closes her eyes, and as Amit Trivedi's music kicks in, we see flashes of her time with him. And... that's all.
I welled up more than once. By capturing the realness of its world and characters, the film is able to achieve immersion quite soon. It communicates deep ideas—about trauma, patriarchy, generational suppression of women—effortlessly. Even that common cinema device, the voiceover, feels fresh here: it's used not to explain plot or history but as a way to share thoughts and themes. “My mother, and her mother, unable to get out of their chains, have been passing them on to the next generation.” Good luck not welling up.
Even seemingly minor moments brim with metaphor. At a function, a baby cries until Ramya takes it away from the stage, and immediately, the tears stop. When the baby is snatched back and sent back to the stage again, the crying resumes. In that tiny moment, you sense the weight of rules, the theft of freedom, and so much more.
The film is strikingly shot. Some images made quite an impression on me... like that top-angle of Ramya and a boy hugging in a bathtub, like that wide shot of Ramya with a dog at night, a tree flanking them. Beyond these aesthetics, I really enjoyed how this film is able to draw empathy even for a seeming oppressor, Ramya's mother. Shantipriya’s performance is wonderfully layered, with her eyes standing testament to years of subjugation. No wonder then that the climax confession is for her, not for Ramya's boyfriends.
Ramya isn’t an ideal. Her experiences don't come recommended by the film. She isn’t out to take down men or revolutionise society. The film even mocks how self-absorbed she is, when a friend remarks, “Ramya doesn’t remember that moment because it was not about her.” She simply is.
In this world of cats and dogs, the film got me thinking about both animals. Society, it seems, expects us to be house-dogs—loyal, grateful, obedient, permanently attached. Perhaps that final stretch, where Ramya searches for her escaped cat, is a plea for another possibility: that we might all be better off being house-cats. Giving and receiving love in our own terms, close sometimes, distant when needed. Possessive of private space. Content with self. Perhaps wanting this freedom doesn’t make a woman a ‘bad girl’.