Sooraj Barjatya’s OTT debut ‘Bada Naam Karenge’ is exactly what the title ironically suggests—an attempt at making a name but falling short. Stretched over nine excruciatingly long episodes, this Rajshri Productions venture seems determined to prove that nostalgia alone cannot keep an audience hooked, especially in an era where Gen-Z has dissected, debated and redefined the very essence of relationships.

Bada Naam Karenge served old wine, not even in a new bottle!

The show is a run-of-the-mill arranged marriage drama with a parallel narrative—a lockdown love story tangled with small-town family politics. Rishabh (Ritik Ghanshani) and Surbhi (Ayesha Kaduskar) have a chance encounter during the pandemic, only to meet again under the looming shadow of an arranged marriage setup in Madhya Pradesh. Sounds promising? Maybe, but the execution drowns in its own self-imposed emotional grandiosity.

The first few episodes try to establish the dual timelines—the lockdown past and the present-day wedding drama. Episode 1 attempts intrigue by teasing their “shared past,” but the suspense evaporates almost instantly. The so-called “big moment” in Episode 3, where Rishabh and Surbhi get locked out, could have been an endearing situational comedy. Instead, it drags on, and the COVID-positive key maker subplot adds unnecessary drama, making one wonder if the pandemic was merely a plot gimmick.

At a point, Surbhi’s guilt over “hiding the truth” becomes so overplayed that it’s hard to empathize anymore. The emotional stakes should rise, but instead, the series circles the same trust-tradition-truth conflict like a broken record.

In the latter episode—just when you think it might finally get somewhere. Rishabh’s grand confession plan is thwarted by a medical emergency (classic soap opera move). The scene where Surbhi learns of her father’s heart attack while still in her wedding lehenga is visually poetic but narratively exhausting. If a hospital-bedside confession and a “scandalous” ghat embrace were meant to be the show’s emotional peak, it barely registers beyond déjà vu.

The finale comes with a predictable mess. The forced “honour-saving” marriage announcement, the outdated family conflicts, the exaggerated melodrama—at this point, the show is practically begging for a fast-forward button. Typifying an exhaustive narrative, enveloped in 9 episodes! All you do is, end the series with a sigh.

The question is, where is the relevance?

‘Bada Naam Karenge’ suffers from a severe case of generational disconnect. The script struggles between traditional values and modern romance, but instead of a nuanced take, we get a tug-of-war between outdated tropes and half-baked progressive attempts.

A secret lockdown cohabitation leading to a “scandalous” confession? In a world of dating apps and commitment complexities, this feels like a ‘90s relic.

Surbhi’s guilt trip over staying at Rishabh’s place? It’s 2025, not 1925. The emotional stakes feel artificial.

Nine episodes for a story that could have been wrapped in five? If patience were a virtue, this series would demand sainthood.

Verdict: A Stretch Too Far

While Ritik Ghanshani and Ayesha Kaduskar deliver decent performances, they are ultimately trapped in an overstretched, overwrought narrative. The music by Anurag Saikia has its moments, but no soundtrack can save a script drowning in predictability.

If ‘Bada Naam Karenge’ aimed to be a heartwarming love story, it forgot that even nostalgia needs reinvention. A tighter script, fewer episodes, and a more self-aware narrative could have turned this into something worthwhile. Instead, it settles for being a dragged-out emotional merry-go-round that feels like a Barjatya film trapped in an OTT format, gasping for air.

IWMBuzz rates it 2 stars.