Single Salma Review: Huma Qureshi’s Film Is A Lesson In How Not To Write A Modern Woman

Single Salma Review: You know those movies that make you question your life choices, not in a deep, introspective way, but in a “why didn’t I just rewatch Veere Di Wedding again?” kind of way? Single Salma is exactly that. After films like Piku and Queen gave us excellent and witty portrayals of women, Single Salma tries to join the club but ends up tripping over its own girlboss heels. What we get instead is a cocktail of chaos, tone-deaf feminism, and humour so flat you could iron your clothes on it.

Salma Rizvi (Huma Qureshi) is a thirty-something government employee in Lucknow, constantly harassed by her family’s “shaadi kab karogi” chorus. She’s smart, driven and content being single. It all changes when two suitors show up: Sikandar (Shreyas

Talpade), the loyal Lucknow shop-owner who rolls out literal bands for her, and Meet (Sunny Singh), a London-based urban planner who’s somehow also a DJ and motivational speaker. What could’ve been a fun story about choice and independence turns into a confused rom-com that mistakes loud drama for empowerment and mess for comedy.

The film wants to be progressive, funny and emotional but manages none. The 2-hour-22-minute runtime drags endlessly, crammed with random scenes (there’s even a go-karting sequence that exists purely to waste time). Then comes the bikini scandal which is a major turning point in the film. A random man walks into a cyber café, types “bikini pictures” into Google, and boom! Salma’s photo appears. That’s the level of logic we’re dealing with. The entire subplot plays like a rejected TV serial idea.

There’s one half-decent moment when a guy in a UK bar sends Salma a bottle of wine and a colleague jokes, “yeh sahi hai ladki ko approach karne ka tareeka.” Sunny’s character shoots back, “toh kya karein, stalk karein kya ladki ko?”

The London track tries hard to look global but ends up feeling like a travel vlog with bad punchlines. Instead of broadening Salma’s worldview, it gives us lazy India jokes, fake accents, and colleagues who go from small-town civil servants to London socialites overnight. By the halfway mark, you’re just waiting for your popcorn to finish so you have an excuse to leave.

By the time in the climax when Salma runs away from her own wedding and both suitors show up with separate baraats outside her house, you’re not even shocked anymore because you’d believe anything at this point. Salma had no man in her life and suddenly she has two men fighting for her.

The movie mixes up independence with plain attitude and strength with stubbornness. When Salma gives her big five-minute speech about dumping both men and running off to Delhi to be a model, it’s supposed to be inspiring but it ends up sounding like she’s quitting common sense.

Huma Qureshi tries her best to bring warmth and confidence to Salma, but the writing gives her little to work with. Needless to say, she does a wonderful job and lifts the entire film on her shoulder. Single Salma is watchable because there’s Huma in it.

Sunny Singh looks sincere but is trapped in a paper-thin role that neither charms nor convinces. And poor Shreyas Talpade! His Sikandar starts out strong, supportive, sweet, and genuinely progressive. The biggest green flag we must mention. He supports Salma when she wants to go to the UK and even stands by her when her bikini photos go viral and everyone in Lucknow trolls her. He deserved applause but gets turned into a comic relief.

Nachiket Samant’s direction has flashes of sincerity. Lucknow’s streets look lovely, the frames are neat, and the production design feels polished. But the storytelling is so inconsistent that you never know if you’re watching a drama, a satire, or an accidental spoof.

If bad writing were a crime, Single Salma would be serving a life sentence. The dialogues sound like they were lifted straight from Instagram feminism posts. They are hollow, predictable, and painfully self-aware. Every emotional moment is over-explained, every “girl power” line feels like a corporate campaign, and the humour is as outdated as a 2000s sitcom. There’s even a line where a man calls his wife “cylinder jaisi moti.” Wow. Revolutionary!

To be fair, Single Salma isn’t all bad. The songs are fun, the Lucknow setting feels warm and lively, and all the characters bring an easy charm. There are moments where the film actually clicks when it stops trying to sound too “woke” and just lets the characters be messy and real. You can tell it’s trying to say something about love, ego, and freedom in today’s world. It just loses its way along the line. Still, there’s a bit of heart hiding under all that noise.

In the end, Single Salma isn’t a celebration of singlehood, it’s a two-hour test of patience. It wants to empower women but ends up exhausting them instead. Huma Qureshi deserves better, the audience deserves better, and honestly, so does singlehood. Save yourself the trouble: stay single, stay happy, and swipe left on this one.