‘Girls Will Be Girls’: Sundance Review

Dir/scr: Shuchi Talati. India/France/US/Norway. 2023. 119mins

Shuchi Talati’s impressive debut feature is a sensitive coming of age drama handled with a sure touch, the writer/director displaying an acute understanding of the whirlpool of emotions unleashed when a naive Indian teenager experiences first love. The tender feelings and understated direction combine to create a tale of female empowerment that should travel well beyond its world premiere in Sundance competition.

 Tender feelings and understated direction combine to create a tale of female empowerment

Sixteen year-old Mira (Preeti Panigrahi) could be a figure from the pages of Jane Austen. Prim and proper, she is top of her class at a strict, old-fashioned school in the Himalayas. She is a keen girl rather than a mean girl. Panigrahi gives her a stern, almost grave look as she takes her studies and herself very seriously. Appointed Head Prefect, she often seems more like a member of staff than a pupil.

Mira lives with her youthful mother Anila (Kani Kusruti) and often-absent father Harish (Jitin Gulati). Her life changes when she meets well-travelled diplomat’s son Srinivas (Kesav Binoy Kiron), a new pupil in her class. A handsome, shallow charmer, he is slightly older than Mira – and more experienced. He shows nothing but respect and consideration as the initial spark between them blossoms into something deeper, an attraction depicted in shy stares and the fleeting thrill as their hands brush against each other. It is the beginning of a sexual awakening for Mira in which every experience is new, from the depth of her feelings to a growing awareness of her body. Typical teenage problems are fed by a feeling that she is in competition with her mother.

In order to spend any time with Mira, Srinivas – known as Sri – feels obliged to charm his way into the good graces of Anila. There is a subtle shift in tone as she starts to see his presence as a way of reliving her youth and enjoying some of the fun she never had. Neglected and a littler bored, she is flattered by Sri’s attention and it starts to feel as if there are three people in this relationship.

Talati shows great skill at conveying the conflicts within Mira, who has reached an age where her mother is often considered an interfering embarrassment. That resentment is only intensified as mum shoulders her way into the precious time Mira has with Sri. When Mira and Sri dance, Anila takes over from the inexperienced younger woman to show how it should be done and a crestfallen Mira fades into the background. 

Talati finds ways of visually conveying conflict and mirroring behaviour; in one scene mother and daughter stand before a mirror brushing their teeth, and no words are required for what either of them is feeling. The filmmaker also shows a maturity in maintaining the film’s focus on character and story, beguiling with well-written characters and a situation that suggests some form of autobiography.

Mira is a smart girl growing towards independence and curious about what adulthood, sex and love might mean. She researches physical attraction with all the dedication she brings to her school studies, something that makes her all the more vulnerable emotionally. Kiron’s people-pleaser Sri is charm personified with no intention of hurting anyone, while Kusruti makes Anila a sympathetic figure as a mother who oversteps the mark but is also the one her daughter turns to in a crisis. 

Givig her characters shading and the story space to breathe, Talati has created a quietly captivating, sharply observed film. A loss of innocence may propel the story but what ultimately emerges is a celebration of the enduring love between a mother and a daughter.