Skater Girl

Release Date

11th June 2021

Should I watch this movie?

Oh, darling, if you're yearning for a cinematic journey that's as heartbreakingly tender as it is unexpectedly witty, then Manjari Makijany's 2021 'Skater Girl' is absolutely a must-add to your watchlist. This utterly charming coming-of-age sports drama, featuring fresh faces like Rachel Sanchita Gupta and Shafin Patel, plunges us into the world of a young girl whose days are typically bound by the rhythm of cooking, cleaning, and endless household chores, with school a distant, unaffordable dream due to the simple lack of a uniform. Now, while the acting might be a delightfully 'okayish' kind of raw, the film is subtly packed with those knowing little digs, the kind that can feel a tad too eager to present caste narratives for a Western audience – a familiar tune we’ve all heard before, haven’t we? Yet, beneath any perceived pandering, it genuinely illuminates circumstances that are achingly real for countless girls in rural India, reminding us that while our beautiful nation is indeed progressing, profound societal changes, much like a perfectly executed ollie, don't happen overnight, regardless of the constant, wearying stigmas. It’s a beautifully complex, rollercoaster ride of emotions, truly, making you sob one moment and giggle the next, a testament to its deeply felt narrative and the audacious spirit of dreams taking flight against all odds.

Oh, the delightful tangle of contradictions a movie can present, like when a foreign Indian girl, fresh from a mud bath, is instantly pointed to the 'other' water pump—a stark, ahem, splash of casteism in a story that then pivots to girls on skateboards. It’s enough to make one sigh, witnessing such an ancient, insidious division manifest so casually, with separate pumps silently screaming about 'upper' and 'lower' class distinctions, even for something as basic as washing off a bit of dirt; my heart just sinks a little at the thought. But then, the real head-scratcher arrives: the movie's fervent focus on girls conquering the concrete on skateboards. Now, don't get me wrong, I adore a good girl-power narrative, but this felt less like a progressive leap and more like a fantastical hop, skip, and a jump over reality; in the West, where girls like our Olympic darling Sky Brown have inspired over 100,000 female skateboarders in the UK alone (a glorious 24% increase!), it’s still a climb, a beautiful, hard-won ascent. Yet, in India, where female skateboarding role models are as rare as a quiet moment in a bustling market, the idea of a thriving scene feels, well, a bit of a stretch, doesn't it? It's like planting a delicate orchid in the desert and expecting it to bloom instantly without any nurturing. So, while my hopeful heart wants to cheer for cinematic dreams of empowered girls, the film’s narrative felt oddly disconnected, a well-intentioned but ultimately impact-less flutter against the very real, very stubborn backdrops it tried to portray.

While the screen offered a feast of breathtaking landscapes, the kind that makes your heart flutter and your spirit soar, it quickly delivered a rather jarring side dish of humanity's most persistent, and frankly, baffling, stereotypes and societal ironies. One moment, your eyes are drinking in a glorious temple scene, all ancient stone and spiritual light, and the next, a sweet boy showing his sister a picture of shoes he dreams of buying, only to claim, with heartbreaking certainty, that "God cannot hear you outside the temple." My dear, didn't we spend years being told, as the Bhagavad Gita gently reminds us, that God is utterly omnipresent? And yet, here we are, shrinking the divine to fit within four walls and a roof, as if the universe itself isn't His grandest temple. Then, just when you're pondering the absurdity of confining the divine, the whisper of "he's from another caste" floats across the screen, a tiny girl, Prerna (Rachel Sanchita Gupt), pointing out the invisible wall isolating a lone child from the joyous chaos of play—a gut-punch, isn't it? And as if to twist the knife a third time, poor Prerna herself faces the sharp edge of this prejudice at the fair, her father's furious "they are Brahmins" slicing through the innocent joy of a shared moment with a classmate, a stark, almost absurd reminder that even in moments of simple fun, these rigid lines are drawn, not by God, but by us, with such painful precision. Ultimately, the film beautifully illustrates that while nature's artistry is undeniably divine, humanity's persistent habit of building invisible walls, even around God Himself, remains a rather perplexing, and deeply emotional, piece of work.

Oh, darling, there's something wonderfully charming about a movie that can make you swoon, even when it throws a logic pretzel your way, and this film's police station scene was precisely that kind of delightful, head-scratching magic. Picture this: an officer confidently declares to Jessica, "regardless of where you're from, you're Indian," which, given she was born in London but her father hailed from the very Indian village where she's now connecting with local kids, made my mind do a little happy wobble. And then there are the timescales, bless their hearts – our delightful Jessica is supposed to be in her thirties and wonderfully unwed, yet Preyna's parents, who are clearly from a village and likely married young (her mother even mentioned marrying at Preyna's age!), are portrayed as looking significantly older, with dad sporting a distinguished grey mane that screams 'sixty-something,' making Jessica appear comparatively youthful in a way that just doesn't quite add up. But honestly, who cares when you learn that the vibrant skatepark is an actual place, one of India's largest and Rajasthan's first, built with such heartfelt community effort by 100 Ramps and volunteers, transforming into a free public space post-filming to continue its beautiful social impact on rural villages? My heart just swelled! And oh, did I mention the legendary, iconic Waheeda Rehman graces the screen with a special appearance? My face broke into such a massive, goofy grin, it almost hurt! Despite these adorable little narrative quirks and time-bends, this movie, my dear, is absolutely, unequivocally worth every single moment.

Main Cast

Rachel Sanchita Gupta and Shafin Patel, and also stars Amrit Maghera, Jonathan Readwin and Waheeda Rehman.

Performance

Oh, my dears, if you're looking for a performance that truly sparkles with authenticity, Rachel Sanchita Gupta absolutely owns her role as the village girl, a newcomer's triumph that just melts your heart with its perfect, unvarnished truth. But then, alas, we must address the rather... unfortunate turn with Amy Maghera, whose emotional scenes felt less like a heartfelt cry and more like an accidental giggle-fit, a true theatrical head-scratcher that left me wondering if I'd stumbled into a comedy. Jonathan Readwin, bless his heart as Erick, was perfectly... there, I suppose; his part was so fleetingly brief that one can hardly hold it against him, a charming background whisper rather than a leading chorus. And speaking of mothers, Swati Das as Preyna’s mother delivered a beautifully grounded performance, a quiet strength that set the stage perfectly for the grand dame herself, the incomparable Waheeda Rehman, who, with every graceful movement and knowing glance, reminded us exactly why she remains the ultimate showstopper, effortlessly stealing every single scene with a twinkle in her eye and a lifetime of wisdom in her smile. So, while some performances were a delightful embrace and others a gentle shrug, the sheer magic woven by talents like Rachel and the legendary Waheeda truly made the whole experience a wonderfully whimsical journey through human emotion, proving that even a few missteps can't dim the brightest stars.

Production

written by Manjari Makijany and Vinati Makijany, who co-produced the film through their Indian production company Mac Productions

Music & Soundtracks

Oh, the Salim-Sulaiman soundscape, a curious little world of its own, isn't it? There's a certain polished charm to the soundtrack, a well-behaved guest at the party, perhaps, offering some undeniably lovely melodies that flit through your mind like a pretty butterfly, keeping you engaged in a gentle current of sound. It's good, don't get me wrong, like a perfectly nice pair of sensible shoes—comfortable and functional, but lacking that dazzling sparkle that truly makes your heart do a little happy dance; I can absolutely see why others might swoon, finding their perfect rhythm within its notes, and truly, more power to them! But for me, darling, while it's a perfectly lovely listen, it just doesn't quite stir the soul or ignite that indescribable je ne sais quoi that makes a soundtrack truly unforgettable; it's just not quite my cup of Earl Grey, with or without a dash of whimsical milk.

Facts

Oh darling, imagine a sprawling 14,500 sq. ft. concrete dream, nestled on a single acre in rural Rajasthan – it’s not just India’s largest and the state’s very first skatepark, it’s a veritable wonderland of wheels and whimsy! Crafted with love (and a whole lot of elbow grease!) by the fabulous 100 Ramps team, alongside a global village of Indian and international volunteers, this magnificent structure sprung to life, kicking off skateboarding and acting workshops in October 2018. And after the cameras stopped rolling in April 2019, leaving behind a film that surely captured some magic, the park, bless its heart, remained a beacon of free-spirited joy, continuing its mission to sprinkle social stardust on rural Indian villages, proving that a little bit of concrete can certainly bridge worlds. Indeed, hundreds of children in and around Khempur have found their footing, literally and figuratively, with many from surrounding villages flocking to its free training workshops; can you believe four of these bright-eyed, determined youngsters even represented Rajasthan at the RSFI national championship? Now, every good story has its twists, doesn't it? There was a bit of a kerfuffle, with Ulrike Reinhard and Asha Gond suggesting the filmmakers might have, shall we say, 'borrowed' Asha’s incredible journey, but our dear Director, Manjari Makijany, was quick to clarify, assuring us that while Asha, like countless other amazing female skaters across India, shared her story, the film wasn't singularly hers—it's a delicate dance, navigating inspiration and individual narratives, isn't it? Regardless of the cinematic squabbles, the heart of this skatepark beats strong, a testament to how a passion for planks and wheels can truly uplift spirits and empower a community, one joyful kickflip at a time.