Call Me Bae review: Ananya Panday is pitch-perfect in her unapologetically breezy, decidedly sanitised series debut

The series also plays to Panday’s strengths by incorporating her natural charm and fashion sensibility into the character. Bae’s wardrobe is a visual treat, filled with statement pieces that reflect her vibrant personality. This emphasis on fashion not only serves as eye candy but also becomes a narrative tool, symbolizing Bae’s evolution as she shifts from designer labels to more meaningful self-expression. The supporting cast of “Call Me Bae” brings depth and dynamism to the series. The standout performance comes from seasoned actor Rajat Kapoor, who plays Bae’s disapproving father, a man whose stoic exterior hides layers of disappointment and concern for his daughter. Kapoor’s portrayal is a masterclass in subtlety, providing a counterbalance to Panday’s exuberant energy. His presence anchors some of the more dramatic moments of the show, grounding Bae’s outlandish escapades with a dose of reality. Gurfateh Pirzada plays the role of Bae’s unlikely confidant and love interest, adding another layer to her journey. His chemistry with Panday is palpable, and their interactions oscillate between humor, tension, and genuine warmth. Pirzada’s character serves as a foil to Bae’s privileged background, offering a glimpse into the lives of those who don’t have the luxury of taking things for granted. This dynamic helps highlight the socio-economic contrasts that the series aims to explore, albeit in a sanitized and often superficial manner. The ensemble is rounded out by a series of vibrant supporting characters, including Bae’s hilariously over-the-top best friend (played by a scene-stealing Amrita Subhash) and a host of fashion industry insiders who range from cutthroat to comically clueless. Each character, while exaggerated, serves a purpose in Bae’s narrative, helping her grow in small, meaningful ways. “Call Me Bae” is unapologetically breezy, with a narrative style that prioritizes entertainment over depth. The show’s tone is light, almost to a fault, as it glosses over the harsher realities of the issues it touches upon, such as class disparity, social privilege, and the superficiality of the fashion world. This decision to keep the series upbeat and accessible might alienate viewers looking for a more hard-hitting critique of these themes. The series employs a mix of satire and slapstick comedy to address Bae’s missteps and personal growth. While this approach provides ample humor, it often lacks the emotional weight needed to make Bae’s transformation feel fully earned. For instance, scenes that depict Bae’s struggles in a less privileged setting are often played for laughs, undermining the potential for more poignant storytelling. Despite its sanitized treatment of deeper themes, the show does manage to convey a positive message about self-acceptance and personal growth. Bae’s journey, though predictable, is one of learning to value herself beyond her looks and status. The series uses fashion as a metaphor for identity, illustrating how Bae’s outward appearance reflects her inner turmoil and eventual self-realization. Visually, “Call Me Bae” is a feast for the eyes, with slick cinematography that captures the vibrancy of urban life and the glitz of high fashion. The direction by Collin D’Cunha is polished, with a keen eye for aesthetic detail that enhances the show’s appeal. From the bustling city streets to the plush interiors of fashion showrooms, the series paints a picture of a world that is aspirational yet accessible. The use of color, framing, and costume design is particularly noteworthy. Bae’s wardrobe evolves with her character, transitioning from bold, flashy outfits to more subdued and sophisticated choices as she grows. This visual storytelling complements the narrative, subtly reflecting Bae’s journey without the need for heavy-handed exposition.