Call Me Bae Review: A Riches-to-Rags to Success Story With Ananya Panday In It | Daily Reports Online
There are films that run on extensive research and make you introspect, and then there are others that don’t have an ounce of practicality and make it to the audience’s guilty pleasure watchlist. Prime Video’s latest original series, Call Me Bae, falls into the latter category. It is essentially the story of an uber-rich Bella “Bae” Chowdhary, who has been disowned by her family and is now trying to restart her life from scratch in Mumbai.
Sounds familiar? Well, that’s because we have seen the storyline millions of times across genres. Call Me Bae heavily borrows elements from similar works done in the past, including Schitt’s Creek, 2 Broke Girls, and Sonam Kapoor’s Aisha. It would remind you of Kareena Kapoor Khan’s fashion-conscious Poo from Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham…, or Legally Bloonde’s sorority queen-turned-Harvard-educated-lawyer Reese Witherspoon on more than one occasion— the classic trope of a seemingly air-headed girl who, turns out, is a genius!
Storyline
If I were to give it straight, Call Me Bae falls in line with typical high-school teenage dramas, which run high on delusion and always have happy endings. Remember how Hannah Montana fooled everyone with just a wig and Selena Gomez’s magic world in Wizards of Waverly Place? The only difference here is that this Amazon Original is set in current times, and unlike previous works, it extensively incorporates the omnipresent world of social media – and, of course, a higher budget.
Call Me Bae begins with Ananya Panday’s uber-rich Bella “Bae” Chowdhary being thrown out of her Delhi mansion in drenching rain. Used to being flown in choppers, heading to Rome for a good pizza, or gifting cricket teams to loved ones, she is now doomed. With none of her friends and family ready to help, it’s just her and her Gucci suitcases, filled with millions of dollars’ worth of outfits and accessories, against the world now. Determined to turn her fate around, our protagonist decides to rebuild her life from scratch, in Mumbai. Across the next seven episodes, we see her trying to adjust to a new reality and rewrite her life story. Needless to say, she succeeds, sticking to the fairy tale format of the show!
The princess-turned-pauper experiences a lot of firsts: staying in a hostel, cleaning up after herself, eating white bread which she thought had gone extinct, and experiencing a roof leakage. She boards an auto-rikshaw for the first time and goes on to label it as a breezier version of Mini Coopers: a comparison I am going to feed my anxious brain every time monthly budgets lay low.
Even when she misses her previous life and worries about the future, she gives her new life an honest chance and stays optimistic. The best part? She doesn’t ditch away her generosity, kindness, and faith in humanity. She’d give you second chances, fight for your friendship, and call a spade for a spade.
Bae’s character has been written to pull you from the slap-in-the-face reality of the world and restore your faith in the little good left in the world.
Although, if there were a debate on the series, a lot of theorists might suggest that on some level, Bae always knew her family would ultimately have her back, and she is on her way to enjoy pseudo-poverty, a concept where the wealthy ditch their luxuries temporarily to have a new experience of how normal people live; for sheer entertainment or a self-discovery facade. Well, if you’re expecting practicality in a Karan Johar production, that’s on you.
As always, Johar has added quite a cinematic extravagance, and everything is conveniently falling into place for our protagonist. Nevertheless, the series made me smile several times. Sometimes, a reminder of how good things can turn served with a side of hope is just what we need, and Panday’s series did it for me. From her behen code (the sister code that makes you prioritise your female friends) to a simple acknowledgement of being a flawed human and yet deserving good things, these uplifting tropes felt reassuring.
Although had the show been even slightly connected with reality, things would have gone horribly wrong for our damsel. In a tanking economic scenario where people are sticking to their toxic jobs because of a crashed market, Bae is getting a well-paid internship at a prestigious news channel. That too when her resume is just a compilation of eccentric courses like how to communicate with your spirit animal, psychic vegan cheese and wine pairing, ethical emerald jewellery design, cyberfeminism, how to change the world one tweet at a time, underwater basket weaving – the list goes on. If only we could switch to this universe!
To appeal to the Instagram-addicted young audience, Call Me Bae floods the viewers with pop culture references that might not interest someone not familiar with them. But if you are updated with the latest trends that catch the fancy of the youth, be up for an amusing stretch of streaming.
There are references to Jay-Z-Beyonce’s rumoured split, Jimmy Kimmel’s post-Oscars parties, and even Fifty Shades of Grey. Panday even quotes Joey Tribbinani’s popular dialogue from the American sitcom F.R.I.E.N.D.S: A moment on your lips, forever on the hips. Probably, this is why Prime Video has specifically categorised the show for the “young adult audience”.
Anyway. I was particularly impressed by how the show skillfully captured the essence of social media in a playful and relatable way, effectively conveying its pervasive presence in our lives. Whenever a character posts online, small emojis fly on our screen, and their Google searches are shown with a special pop-up, making the characters’ online experiences feel intimately familiar. The editing here is quite impressive. Panday’s Netflix film, Kho Gaye Hum Kahan, which revolved extensively on the subject, had also excelled in the representation.
However, Call Me Bae isn’t just about jaw-dropping fashion choices, social media, and pop culture. It slightly touches upon sensitive subjects like loneliness and the impact of childhood neglect. Not a great job there, though. While the pain of her previously golden-caged life resonates well across the screens, the seriousness of the issue is criminally undermined. The lukewarm representation shies away from the dark aspects and fails to acknowledge it as a potentially life-threatening issue.
We see the otherwise bubbly Bae teary and talking to her handbags – whom she has named – and hanging onto every opportunity to talk to another human, even if s/he is a homeless criminal in jail. She strives for the validation of strangers on the Internet by posting even the tiniest updates of her life online. But that’s all. And oh, by the way, she has done plenty of eccentric courses too: how to communicate with your spirit animal, psychic vegan cheese and wine pairing, ethical emerald jewellery design, how to change the world one tweet at a time, underwater basket weaving – the list goes on. However, Johar’s series refrains from covering much darker aspects of loneliness, opting for a much lukewarm representation of the serious issue.
Characters
Although, the series does take a serious dig at contemporary journalism, especially television journalism. The message is loud and clear: actual journalism is on the verge of extinction. We see talented journalists not being allowed to take up actual stories of substance – simply because they don’t have a sensational angle to them. There is a junior reporter dressing up as leopards and ghosts for a show instead of doing something fruitful. What a metaphorical representation of the circus that some news channels have reduced to today! There is even a magazine cover with a blurb that reads, “What to wear when you’re caught cheating”. Christ!
Stand-up comedian Vir Das here shines as a narcissistic journalist who believes the nation is a “beast” wanting to feed on sensationalism. He would shamelessly disclose people’s personal lives on national television and magnify irrelevant facts in his reports to add the spice. For him Pakistan spells D-R-A-M-A and office attire includes a lux coat and a boxer. (Somebody, please remind him that the work-from-home days are over, and it’s not a mid-day Zoom meeting.) The cheap news tickers in his talk show read “Our truth is better than your truth” and “This issue needs a tissue”.
In a scene, he shouts, “Mujhe drugs do” [give me drugs] while alleging a wrestler of being doped before a match. Reminded of someone? Well, we have special journalists who love harassing people on their shows in the name of the nation wanting to know. Shouldn’t be that hard to guess. Das’ satirical portrayal is on point.
Contrarily, Das has never been shy about voicing his opinion on the rotting political state of the country and the horrendous role of unethical journalists fueling the decay, in real life. He seems to have found the perfect way of channelling his frustration through his character in Call Me Bae, especially after he was banned previously from certain states in India for his supposed anti-nation sentiments in a Netflix Comedy Special for which he later won an Emmy.
The series also has a brief cameo by independent journalist Faye Desouza, who is seen giving heartful advice to serious journalists ditching television if they want to make an actual difference. Dsouza, too, is known for being brutally honest about the barbaric decay of journalistic ethics, and her brief stint in the show makes perfect sense.
Call Me Bae Review: Verdict
Ananya Panday’s series might not break new ground or dive deep into complex themes. In fact, it is predictable, cheesy, and overstuffed with plotholes that’ll make you sigh. Acknowledged. But that’s exactly what makes it a fun, mindless watch. Call Me Bae’s tone is overly enthusiastic, unrealistically optimistic, and utterly dreamy, just like its delusional protagonist. It’s a show that you turn to when you want your brain cells to rest and feed on mindless comedy. Don’t expect a cerebral or visceral experience; Call Me Bae never promised to be one. We have plenty of those films and shows already.
Call Me Bae is a fantasy world where everything falls into place, and our protagonist finds overly supportive strangers who become her best friends in a shockingly short span of time. It’s a Karan Johar-esque romp, borrowing the best bits from his previous works. While it’s no cinematic masterpiece, Call Me Bae has its unique beat. It’s a quirky, delusional, and endearingly optimistic tale that creates a bubble of its own.
Rating: 8/10