Trigger Warning: Mention of sexual abuse in the following review.
Regardless of time and place, some people will only seek to take advantage. All they need is an opportunity and the belief that no one will turn them in and then doing things that satisfy their needs occurs as naturally as breathing, regardless of who it hurts. Actor/writer/director Uttera Singh (The High Note; Fancy Pack) narrows the focus of such a situation to India in her slightly comedic drama Pinch, having its world premiere in the International Narrative Competition section of Tribeca Film Festival 2025. Singh makes her feature film debut with Pinch, previously having participated in directing The Mad Whale and her own written/directed short Fanny Pack, and the debut is an impressive one, managing to balance natural humor with rising tension in a situation that’s anything but funny in a tight 83 minutes.
Uttera Singh as Maitri in PINCH. Photo courtesy of Budhratna Films.
Budding travel vlogger Maitri (Singh) is excitedly preparing for her trip to Europe, much to the frustration of her disapproving mother, Shobha (Geeta Agrawal), who would rather she stay home and pursue the computer programming job that Maitri left for America years ago to study. Despite the lack of understanding from her mother and their family friends in their apartment complex, Maitri is undeterred, planning to leave after the Navratri festival once she snags some content for her channel. However, while sleeping, she’s awoken by the unwelcome touch of her longtime landlord Rajesh (Nitesh Pandey), a violation that becomes the tipping point for festering grudges within the community.
Singh and co-writer Adam Linzey’s (Jeff) script is incredibly layered with the concepts it deals with between the generational divide, social norms, and gender equity, many of which overlap, creating the conflict that powers Pinch. The first is most evident from the opening of the film in which Singh introduces the audience to Maitri via a new video she’s in the process of recording, her mother not only reluctant to be seen in the background, but immediately denigrating her daughter’s attempts at vlogging success while uplifting the neighbor boy, Samir (Badri Chavan), for his success in the same field. At first, Shobha’s response seems contradictory, placing Samir’s success over Maitri’s because they are different genders, when it really comes down to how each generation views and values independence. There’s absolutely a perspective rooted in misogyny, but, then Shobha shares a conversation with best friend and Samir’s mother, Heena (Sunita Rajwar), in which the two — faces in their phones — comment on their children’s obsession with cellphones. It’s a comment devoid of irony or awareness, the mothers perceiving themselves as knowing everything and the “if only my children would listen to me” which identifies children as property to be controlled, rather than autonomous individuals with perspectives and desires. Before the trip to the Navratri festival has started, Singh has established several hypocrisies in Maitri’s life which will ultimately come to intersect. Through the course of the film, the relationship between Maitri and Shobha will be tested and retested until the conclusion, litigating the nature of their differences until a resolution is found.
L-R: Uttera Singh as Maitri, Geeta Agrawal as Shobha, Sunita Rajwar as Heena, Sapna Sand as Rani, and Nitesh Pandey as Rajesh in PINCH. Photo courtesy of Budhratna Films.
Regarding the catalytic event itself, the way that Singh presents things, there’s no doubt of culpability. Staged and shot with intimate discomfort, occurring in a public space therefore establishing a very specific sort of calculated disquiet, Singh isn’t going for shock but achieves absolute distress. Given the nicknames that individuals use as a show of respect to elders not of one’s immediate family — Auntie and — and the establishing conversations that occur prior to the incident, Singh’s crafted a villain who is as average as they come in their expectation: I provide a space to live, I don’t overcharge for the space, I am a trusted individual, and, therefore, I am owed physical compensation. How frequently, whether in India or any other country, has a woman (of any age) been sexualized just because someone felt they were owed access? Though Singh opts to move the narrative into unexpected territory in which Maitri finds herself in a massive ethical quandary, at no point does Singh create a situation in which Maitri is an unreliable witness to what transpired, ensuring that, despite what transpires, Maitri doesn’t lose the audience’s support. Instead, due to Maitri’s reaction to the violation, a larger discussion regarding ethics and consequences occurs which helps to bring into focus the aforementioned issues of generational divide, social norms, and gender equity.
What may be a little off-putting for audiences is the incorporation of humor throughout, as well as the conclusion to the narrative. Singh and Linzey take extraordinary pains to keep things as grounded as possible, except when enhancing the reality of the situation may soften the content. This means that, in reducing the audience’s panic over Maitri’s violation and in raising narrative tension by making it difficult for her to talk privately with her mother, the audience is treated to Heena making several pronouncements over the use of the women’s bathroom in blunt terms. It’s a moment of normalcy and levity amid Singh-as-Maitri’s anxiety, one of several that happen throughout the film regardless of the growing social pressure as various truths come into play. It does help that Linzey, doubling as cinematographer, utilizes a color language that’s vibrant yet natural in all sequences except in presentation of Maitri’s nightmares or intrusive thoughts, thereby giving the entire feel of the film something akin to January’s One of Them Days, a one-crazy-day comedy involving two women trying to run around L.A. to secure their misbegotten rent money. It may not seem like this type of visual style would work given the subject matter, yet it works to soften the edges so that Singh’s performance can remain natural, grounded, and impactful, as well as the supporting performance from Agrawal whose anger at societal norms festers until beautifully released.
Uttera Singh as Maitri in PINCH. Photo courtesy of Budhratna Films.
Pinch is a compelling social dramedy as much for the strength of Singh’s leading performance as it is for the gravity of its narrative. Social justice doesn’t work within the realm of vengeance, because then it makes the victims out to by hypocrites and, frankly, they’ve been through enough. Though the cinematography and direction cause audiences to lean-in, the elements underneath are what make one curious to see how things will play out. Yes, there are some rote elements in the presentation of social, gender, and generational conflicts, but that is, to a degree, a strength as it signifies the universal nature of these problems. Every generation thinks the one before them are fools, every generations thinks the one after them are inexperienced novices, neither seeing the other as people, just their social roles. As with other films dealing in similar conflicts, it’s once the characters see the others as people and not as how society defines them when the truth can be explored. In an era where #MeToo was denigrated from the moment it started, stories like this one become necessary to remind audiences that predators don’t always look like predators, sometimes they arrive with a kind word and a trusting face.
Screening during Tribeca Film Festival 2025.
For more information, head to the official Tribeca Film Festival Pinch webpage.
Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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