- Date of Release: 31 October 2025
- Genre: Comedy, Drama
- Language: Hindi
- Watch On: Theatres Only
Single Salma
Introduction
In hindsight, the new Hindi film Single Salma is a woefully frustrating watch. This is because it squanders a good start and veers into a territory that is not only so preachy and outdated, but also confused in what it wishes to say – rather the confusing path that it takes to drive home its point. It is like that cricket match wherein a team gets off to a bit of a flier but later completely disintegrates to a subpar total. And it is kind of baffling on how a film that talks about feminism is actually paced with a problematic male gaze – on the presumption that this is what women would think and want from a man’s perspective. As a result, the outcome is abysmal. I am reminded of another Hindi film that more or less did tread on a similar path – Kangana Ranaut’s Queen that released almost a decade back. The parallels between both films are implicit – both protagonists are burdened by the society, one being seemingly heartbroken after a broken engagement, and the other, pressurized into marrying. And interestingly, both the protagonists have a tryst with a foreign land in a more accepting society. The different lies in its identity – one wished to be a slice of life film that focused on self discovery, the other was heavily manipulating into wanting you to believe that it treaded on a path of self discovery, whereas the reality remained on how confused it was. It is a love story, a comedy, a social drama and everything else in between. And in the process, it further damages the prospect of feminism, wherein the feminist in me was hurt.
Story & Screenplay
Written by Ravi Kumar and Amina Khan, I will be the first one to admit that I had really low expectations going into the film, Single Salma. But to my surprise (and credit where due), the writing had an uncanny knack of allowing you space at the start to invest in the journey of its protagonist Salma (Huma Qureshi), a thirty-something single woman who has to shoulder the soul responsibility of her family. And as the case would often be, she is under-appreciated and often taken for granted, even as she quietly performs her chores at work and at home, in the process marrying off her sisters and managing the finances of her family. In another other world, Salma would have been nothing short of a mafia, but that is for another day, even as the commanding orders of her family state that Salma needs to get married to escape the problems of mortgage and responsibilities as stated by her empathetic mother. This, mind you is against her immediate will to marry, a trait that remains suppressed at the start.
The issue for me transpires in the form of the characterization, or precisely the two male protagonists in Salma’s life – Sikandar (Shreyas Talpade) and Meet (Sunny Singh). Sikandar is a 40-something seemingly a green-flag that has conservative traits similar to the city that he has been brought up in. You see his self-reflective streak when he meets Salma for the first time – he is almost sure that she will reject her. But the writing perceives him to be an underrated hero wherein he ‘agrees and allows’ Salma to travel abroad for work just before their scheduled marriage. I would still buy into this argument given how there is focus on the conservative streaks of the city that characters like him and Salma have been brought up in. But, this same problem escalates with Meet.
Meet is the typical f*ckboi that you would find around you in your workspace. In the context of the film, he is Salma’s boss whom her colleagues mistaken him for a taxi driver at first. And yet as you get to know him better, you see him being in an open relationship with a colleague of his, while trying his best to feed in Salma the modern ways of living. This is extremely problematic given the manner in which his character is handled – Meet doesn’t come across as soft and endearing but heavily manipulative in how he wants Salma to live her life. In a scene, you see her giving ‘gyaan’ about open relationships and how it isn’t important to marry, in another you see him coaxing Salma to don a bikini. The sentiments aren’t wrong, but the issue is in how it isn’t a bout of realisation for Salma, but more of a short-sighted victim of manipulation by Meet. And when cheating is normalized on the account of freedom, that is where I draw the line.
The chief conflict at the halfway mark unfurls some of the good work at the start. The writing becomes increasingly indulgent and woke, with plot-points comprising of a leaked viral photo on the internet, a massive showdown back home, a confused state of affairs for the protagonist and an uninspiring and unnecessary twist in the second hour. I mean it is hard to root for the drama when you are rooting for another character NOT to appear out of nowhere (but he does). In that regard, the attempt at humour and confusion is a classic case of chalk and cheese. One doesn’t land, and the other doesn’t leave.
In the process, even the writing gets manipulative with respect to the character of Sikandar – suddenly creating an egoistic trait in him to create a layer of doubt in Salma. And the reverse was true for Meet who suddenly discovers his true love for Salma (matlab kuch bhiiii). This, while I sunk and sunk and sunk in my seat, waiting for the trauma to end. But the question remained on where did that leave me with the identity of the drama and its protagonist. The answer to that was in a woefully staged DDLJ-esque finale act that was hardly convincing but so preachy and lengthy, that I wondered on why did the train not leave while Salma’s monologue was on. But then it just hit me – Indian Railways may generally be late?
The idea to transform a simple coming of age story into a college lecture on women empowerment, just distanced the drama from its core identity – yes, it is her choice, and her decision to marry or not to marry, but the preachiness here stemmed from a male gaze that wanted to portray itself as a liberal, as opposed to the women getting a chance to realise and take decisions for themselves. Therein lies the difference, there is lies the patriarchy, therein lies the problem.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues by Mudassar Aziz show promise at the start with a few moments of laughter, but they increasingly seem forced with anecdotes on womanhood. For instance, in a scene you see Salma being given an anecdote by her senior colleague on how one mustn’t be afraid of trying stuff in life. The idea is correct but it did not have to be preachy – it could easily have been the characters of Kangana and Lisa bonding over alcohol, simply just sharing their life experiences. The difference is small but very important in how a scene’s impact shifts. The music is decent but the infusion of songs simply put brakes on the narrative, thereby giving this movie a very 2000s feel. In that regard, it won’t be wrong to say on how this film is 20 years too late, making it outdated in every way possible. The BGM does nothing to enhance the impact of the drama. The cinematography begins on an interesting note with its framing, allowing you space to invest in the journey of the protagonist. But the charm in the drama quickly fizzles out wherein the frames fail to engage you on an emotional level.
The editing pattern is a little choppy given the idea of inserting far too many songs in the narrative, while letting go of the cohesive structure in the second hour, that felt like an amalgamation of different scenes put together. Director Nachiket Samant is often found guilty of viewing the drama from a male gaze (which I am sure most males would be guilty of too). He squanders a good start while trying to drive home a point about women empowerment, in the process not only making the drama preachy but also meandering his characters in a manipulative space. As a result, the impact of the drama is flattened out wherein the direction fails to impress.
Performances
The performances are decent by the members of the cast here, even though not all characters get their due in the form of arcs. The likes of Akanksha Pandey as Shabana and Eleanor Williams as Kate have their moments to shine in otherwise characters that don’t get a chance to fully bloom. Aasif Khan as Rajiv has a nice little arc to play with, and he does a good job here. Nidhi Singh as Ratna is a firecracker and if some of the punches do that, then it has to do with her incredible dialogue delivery. Lauren Gottlieb as Zoya is decent in a character that is less impactful from a writing perspective. Navni Parihar as Nirmala makes her presence felt. Shiv Kanungo as Babban is excellent and he manages to impress. Devasheesh as Trumpet Raja and Digvijay Pratap Singh as Nitesh have little to do here. Kanwaljit Singh as Salma’s father is decent but woefully underwritten.
Sunny Singh as Meet just doesn’t exude of the charm and wit that was needed for his character. The sincerity is missing which is why the character comes across as heavily manipulative, a blame that can be equally shared with his performance and the writing. Shreyas Talpade as Sikandar has an inherent streak of sweetness that makes him affable initially, but the idea to tweak with his characteristics lowers the impact of his character on the whole. Huna Qureshi as Salma is wonderful here, being well-restrained and putting forth a commendable act. But she doesn’t quite rise above the faltering script that doesn’t do justice to Salma or her journey.
Conclusion
Single Salma is a confused lecture on women empowerment in a drama that resembles feminism for dummies, making it a forgettable watch. The idea of viewing womanhood through a male gaze is manipulative and what ultimately leads to its downfall, making the feminist in me hurt, thereby disconnecting me from the drama. Available in a theatre near you.