Big Girls Don’t Cry review: Sisterhood takes centre stage in Nitya Mehra’s teen drama

Created by Nitya Mehra, who has previously been on-board on projects such as Made in Heaven and Baar Baar Dekho, it has been co-directed by her, alongside Sudhanshu Saria, Karan Kapadia, and Kopal Naithani, and features a predominantly female cast. We witness a woman directing women not through the lens of frivolity or caricatured sassiness, but with a profound understanding of the joys and pains intrinsic to the female experience.

As Kavya Yadav, portrayed by the subtle but affecting Vidushi, walks onto the all-girls Vandana Valley Girls School campus, she carries with her the eager anticipation of new beginnings and the promise of forging meaningful connections. Kavya is met not with a warm welcome, but with a barrage of rules and regulations. Her stoic expression belies the tumult of emotions brewing within as she absorbs the weighty expectations placed upon her shoulders. There’s prohibition on seemingly innocuous indulgences, like boys, maggi, chewing gum, or makeup. Adding to Kavya’s already challenging transition, her arrival at the canteen unveils a palpable atmosphere of hostility and entitlement, emblematic of the privilege she, as a scholarship recipient, lacks.

The suffocating constraints of conformity

Kavya is surrounded by six other girls, each with her own set of aspirations. While Noor Hassan (Afrah Sayed) eyes the coveted position of school captain, Leah Joseph aka Ludo (Avantika Vandanapu) is obsessed with excelling as the sports captain. An awkward and butterfingered Pluggy Rawat (Dalai), who has failed two times, is only concerned with losing her virginity. Roohi (Aneet Padda) and Jayshree Chetri or JC (Tenzin Lhakyila) are consumed by their entrepreneurial dreams of establishing a beauty business, while rebel-poet Dia Malik (Akshita Sood) defiantly defies authority with every fibre of her being.

There is an untold story behind the surface of each girl’s persona. Each of them grapples with their own battles. Ludo’s journey is marked by the internal conflict of coming to terms with her homosexuality, while Noor Hassan navigates the complexities of cultural identity, struggling with the weight of her surname in pursuit of a US visa. Meanwhile, JC and Roohi find themselves drawn to the same suitor, as amidst these personal trials, Kavya confronts the daunting task of forging connections with peers who may never comprehend the barriers she faces, ensnared by the invisible confines of their privilege.

Pooja Bhatt plays Anita Verma, the formidable principal of Vandana Valley. In an early scene, she challenges the students with the question, ‘Who are you?,’ seemingly urging them to carve out their identities. However, as the story unfolds, Mehra skillfully exposes the suffocating constraints of conformity imposed upon the girls by the institution — whose face and soul is Verma — rendering Bhatt’s question ironically pitiable. While Bhatt’s is a commanding presence among fresh faces, her character is reduced to a contemptuous antagonist, almost reminiscent of Amitabh Bachchan from Mohabbatein (2000), who is too rigid in her ways to see the truth. Among the new actors, Zoya Hussain delivers a memorable performance as the drama teacher, adding subtle beauty to an otherwise understated role.

Raw truths of teenage life

Mehra possesses an acute sensitivity to the emotional fabric of human existence. Her skill lies in the way she observes the tragedy of being a human, and more importantly, a woman, giving her the ability to illuminate the universal truths that connect us all. She, along with her team of directors, tells a compelling story with carefully crafted characters. Hindi films tend to view schools through a predominantly male lens, but the show courageously confronts the realities of womanhood that begin to manifest in the crucible of educational institutions. By shining a spotlight on this underexplored facet of adolescence, the show examines the issues faced by young women in schools.

Though undeniably rich in storytelling, Big Girls Don’t Cry — which derives its name from the iconic Fergie song — is not without flaws. Chief among them is the abundance of subplots, which proliferate to such an extent that viewers may find themselves struggling to keep pace, leading to a sense of detachment from the narrative’s overarching themes. The series also suffers from excessively drawn-out episodes, with hour-long segments often feeling needlessly protracted and in need of tighter editing.

Another shortcoming lies in the lack of background information provided for the characters. While we are intimately acquainted with their emotional struggles, the origins of these conflicts remain frustratingly opaque. This omission leaves viewers grappling with unanswered questions, such as the motivations behind Kavya’s strained relationship with her mother or the incongruities in the behaviour of Roohi’s parents, played interestingly by Mukul Chadda and Raima Sen. Mehra creates a world where privilege is not just assumed but expected. However, it’s also a world where everyone is a misfit, and self-doubt is a shadow that lingers.

Previous productions like School Of Lies and Class have delved into the raw truths of teenage life. Big Girls Don’t Cry, which sensitively navigates a whirlwind of emotions brewing in the hearts of young women (lust, love, jealousy, pride, and ambition), distinguishes itself as a celebration of sisterhood; the young women stumble, get bruised, but in the end prevail.