Babita Singh Reporting and Gandhari have many similarities but differ in intent, execution | Web-series News
8 min readUpdated: Sep 12, 2026 08:13 AM IST
Once upon a time in an Indian city/town far away from Mumbai, there lived a woman. She was your regular woman next door, kind, caring, adequately dependent on her husband and following all the rules of good behaviour. Then one day a wicked man/woman attacks her child/husband/someone she cares about, and the lady is heartbroken by the delay in getting justice. She awakens to the half hearted functioning of the police and judiciary, and decides to take matters into her own hands. As she picks up new skills, tricks people with her seeming helplessness, and relentlessly pursues her quest for justice, she is directly or indirectly likened to Goddess Durga and Kali or ennobled as a warrior. This could be the summary of multiple films and pieces of content released in the years after Kahaani. Maa, Mai, Aarya, Kahaani 2, and even Mrs Chatterjee vs Norway were stories of women, most often mothers, fighting heroically when their spouses or children were hurt.
Gandhari, which started streaming on Netflix recently, is yet another film in this ‘heroic mother’ subgenre where Bani (Taapsee Pannu) is desperately looking for her missing daughter. Interestingly, a week before Gandhari was released, there was another movie about a woman seeking justice released on Amazon Prime Video: Babita Singh Reporting. Unlike Bani, Babita (Nimisha Sajayan) is not a mother yet. But when an old childhood friend of hers dies mysteriously, she is drawn into finding the truth and understanding what really happened to him.
Gandhari and Babita Singh Reporting share many elements. Both films had a female protagonist who is considered weak, helpless or underestimated. Both films also had references to mythology. In Babita Singh Reporting, it was the backdrop of Dussehra and the tradition of Ravana Dehen. There is also a brief moment when Babita stands in front of a set of arms usually attached to a goddess statue. In Gandhari, the title refers to a character from the Mahabharat, and the film has characters who worship a fictional goddess, Chaumukhi Maa. While Babita Singh Reporting offers a powerful social commentary on patriarchy and its insidious presence in our lives, Gandhari takes up the issue of girls being trafficked. However, inspite of the many common elements, the real distinction is in the writing and the intention with which the film was made. Perhaps that’s why they evoke completely different reactions in a viewer.
Taapsee Pannu’s Gandhari is based on my story, says writer.
In Babita Singh Reporting, director Ambiecka Pandit and writer Amita Vyas deftly weave social commentary and characterisation together, showing us how patriarchy pushes men and women into performative roles of provider and nurturer. Roles that are inherently unfair in their distribution of privilege and responsibilities. Though Babita is a cop, she is no heroic crusader who vanquishes a larger-than-life villain. There is a scene in the film where Babita gets attacked by a group of men under the influence of drugs. She fights them off and yells that she is a cop, which scares them, but the moment she leaves their line of sight, Babita starts running because a woman is just as vulnerable with or without a uniform.
Through Babita’s journey, we see the heartbreaking lack of self-worth amongst women in her small town and the helplessness they are forced to live with, because their worth is either attached to their appearance or their marital status. When Babita realises that the price for being respectful is her own self-respect, she decides to finally put herself first. It’s a small and realistic victory for a woman who has been conditioned to stay silent and be tolerant. The mythological references which remain in the background also take on a poignant note. When the Ravana effigy burns in the film’s climax, Babita breaks down and weeps. The tears are not just for her friend but also for herself, finally allowing herself to feel the anger and hurt she has repressed. The burning flames seemingly light a fire within her, and she returns to work and home as a woman who refuses to associate her value with external validation.
Gandhari, on the other hand, seems to have been created with the intention of positioning its leading lady as an action star. There is a certain sustained artifice in the entire film; whether it’s the actors with brown faces, characters who walk in and out of scenes with no backstory, dialogues about mothers being ‘yodhas’, cops performing a serious cop stereotype, or street performers with face paint being made to look mysterious. The issue of child trafficking also seems to be force-fitted or added as an afterthought into the film, trying to lend it some much-needed depth or gravitas.
In the Mahabharat, Gandhari was a loyal wife, but not a very successful parent, given how her sons turned out. It’s a strange choice of title for a film that is about a mother hunting for her daughter. Gandhari blindfolded herself for life to support her husband, but Taapsee’s character is not visually impaired for the entire duration of the film. It’s almost as if the film started with Kahaani’s premise (no one will suspect a woman in her condition), wanted to be like Kaabil but decided to reroute and go the Andhadhun way. The screenplay barely pauses to let us feel the fear and desperation of the parents whose child has been kidnapped. It seems as if the writer was in a hurry to get to the parts where Taapsee’s character gets to beat up people. Characters conveniently keep leaving the room to get Bani beverages so she can start snooping around. It says something about the film’s writing and direction if an ensemble cast of talented actors cannot offer us any memorable moments or characters.
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Unlike Babita, who transforms slowly and realistically, Bani takes just a month to turn into a woman who can fight multiple men single-handedly, climb onto trees, perform martial arts moves, and survive being brutally beaten like multiple male heroes before her to save the day. While Babita simply poses in front of the goddess’s arms, hinting at her hidden strength, Gandhari has Taapsee put her foot on a man’s chest and stab him with a spear, recreating the popular image of Goddess Durga killing Mahishasura. Though both films attempt to link an individual’s pain to a larger social problem or other crimes, we only find ourselves rooting for Babita as she navigates casual cruelty in her home to find justice for her friend.
Nimisha Sajayan features in the role of an Assistant Sub-Inspector (ASI) Babita Singh.
It’s truly heartening to see more films with female protagonists being made. Whether it’s a big-budget theatrical release like Alpha or smaller-budget films like Babita Singh Reporting and Gandhari. Perhaps what we need to identify is stories that offer some actual insight into issues that concern women today or how they would like to see themselves represented on screen. Do we need to see two women fight in large set pieces like their male counterparts, or just fight for equal pay instead? Do we need to be compared to goddesses with many hands or just lent a hand in the kitchen? Is a mother who fights for her kids as important as a mother who draws boundaries to carve space for herself? Let’s not presume that every film with a female protagonist needs a social issue or mythological references to make it worth financing. Maybe the greatest gift you can give her is to just let her be human: fat, thin, dark, fair, married, single, flawed, but always valuable.
