Recently, there has been a significant resurgence in Hindi films with women-centric narratives, often involving intersectional politics. They present a feminism that goes beyond the usual urban mystification of the “upper class” and “upper caste” and instead relocates this to rural, peripheral spaces. The good thing about these narratives is that they are not so performative. They embody fully developed female characters who are given real freedom of choice.
These characters are capable of critical thinking and are not obnoxiously moral or self-sacrificing. These films are really fun to watch, especially because of the ethos of their setting – on the outskirts of big cities or remote villages. So when Babita Singh reporting was released, I was pretty excited.
From the makers of Paatal Lok and starring Nimisha Sajayan, the film has received unexpected backlash, but only from reviewers who seemed to have expected a gripping thriller rather than an in-depth social commentary. But that’s exactly where the film works best.
Masquerading as a bizarre crime thriller in which the investigation is led by a police officer who happens to be a woman, the premise sounds reductive at worst. Something similar to Mardaaniwhich essentially relies on an androgynous idea of feminism, which states that a woman can be just as “macho” as a man. This framing is a disservice to the genre itself. However, Babita Singh Reporting does not do this.
Marriage work and the politics of compliance
Babita Singh, called both endearingly and condescendingly “Baby” by her husband and colleagues, holds a menial police job that she gained through what was essentially “sympathy recruitment.” The Babita we meet at the beginning of the film is someone who is always shrinking himself, someone who will do anything not to make those around him uncomfortable.
She is mild-mannered, constantly pushed around, and reluctant to take up space, whether speaking up at work or being forced to film for her superiors. At home, where she lives with her husband, she is just as quiet and compliant, acquiescing to patriarchal marital demands without complaint, despite having a fairly demanding job.
Babita Singh (Nimisha Sajayan) in a scene from Babita Singh Reporting. Photo credit: Amazon MGM/Film Squad/Third Act/Prime Video
When she is pressured to visit her in-laws in a remote town called Rewa, she willfully takes the blame for a drug raid botched by her superiors and accepts a suspension, which she then negotiates to leave. Arriving in Rewa, from day one she meticulously strives to assume the role of a dutiful, hard-working daughter-in-law, an obvious overcompensation for her long work-related absences. None of what she does is particularly out of character for a working married woman in India: the careful tiptoeing required to avoid her in-laws’ microaggressions, as if simply earning an income was somehow blasphemous.
The family prides itself on being “kind,” an exception to the norm, but more subtly treats Baby as a help, even dipping into their income for extravagant expenses. For example, when her tantrum-prone sister-in-law insists on a new “modern” saree for her baby shower, Baby agrees to shell out ten thousand rupees out of her own pocket. Most of the family’s interactions with her are just covert orders that she obeys.
Body shaming as a means of patriarchal control
As someone who tends to belittle herself, Baby also takes on the constant, inferior body-shaming of her in-laws. For example, if you get sugar-free ice cream, it’s annoying at worst and slightly absurd at the most petty. The film is permeated with body-related motifs, jogging, sugar-free eating and thyroid problems, so that the film continues to draw attention to it even if the viewer is not consciously aware of Babita’s body.
Babita Singh (Nimisha Sajayan) in a scene from Babita Singh Reporting. Photo credit: Amazon MGM/Film Squad/Third Act/Prime Video
Throughout the narrative, Babita’s body acts as a vessel for either embarrassment or quiet anger. Many of her decisions come from this logic: if she can be the dutiful daughter-in-law, perhaps her in-laws will eventually look beyond her body and see her worth; and if she cannot do aesthetic work for them, she can at least do domestic work. She puts up with the snarky remarks, but it’s not hard to see that all this is slowly driving Baby to a mental satiety that will only inevitably drive her to collapse.
In this small town, a steady stream of passive aggression seems to be a blinding reality. Her husband urges her not to see her long-lost best friend again, a reunion that might have prevented his murder. When she decides to investigate the death herself, her husband offers her little more than tiny, reluctant sympathy and no real support.
The radicality of taking up space
Babita is a half-decent wife and a half-decent police officer. She tries. Her fearless detective work only forces her to deal with more cases of systemic misogyny, including domestic violence, a selfish colleague, and dowry demands, which puts her in a paralyzing dilemma that so many women face: being a dutiful wife or a dutiful employee.
Babita Singh (Nimisha Sajayan) and Sharad Vashesht
(Anshumaan Pushkar) in a scene from Babita Singh Reporting. Photo credit: Amazon MGM/Film Squad/Third Act/Prime Video
But her in-laws and husband turn against her when the investigation becomes too personal and undermines her usefulness at home. Disappointed by what he sees as her uncharacteristic noncompliance, her husband breaks down and reminds her that he married her within a month of meeting her, suggesting that she would have had a hard time finding a partner because of her looks. It’s cruelty dressed up as vulnerability, and it was a major catalyst in the film.
A heated argument with a relative leaves her dazed and she ends up driving drunk. It’s a small, telling breakdown after a lifetime of holding it together for other people. The film ends on a note of freedom, however fleeting: the investigation comes to a successful conclusion and Babita heads home, leaving her husband ambiguous. But not only is the case solved, she also walks away with something hard-won: a feeling of dignity for the first time in her life.
Babita Singh (Nimisha Sajayan) in a scene from Babita Singh Reporting. Photo credit: Amazon MGM/Film Squad/Third Act/Prime Video
As a heavier woman myself, it’s the unflinching portrayal of body shaming that the film does well. Babita’s constant shrinking is a legitimate psychological reaction to both patriarchy and rigid beauty standards. While body shaming is a smaller aspect of a larger patriarchal problem that Babita Singh Reporting seeks to highlight, it was an important element to add to the layer of marginalization. This is where the film excels.
