top of page

We Are Lady Parts Season 1 Review: The Blazing Punk Rock Anthem for a New Generation



We Are Lady Parts Season 1 Review: The Blazing Punk Rock Anthem for a New Generation


As the opening riff of "Ain't No One Gonna Honour Kill My Sister But Me" ripped through my speakers, I felt an electric jolt straight to my soul. The sneering, defiant vocals of Saira hit me like a semi-truck as she bellowed those iconic opening lines that double as the series' thesis statement:



I'm gonna kill my sister, this ain't about you!


In that gloriously raucous moment, I knew We Are Lady Parts wasn't just another show - it was a cultural lightning bolt, a vital and vibrantly alive statement that broke all the rules with riotous glee. This show about a Muslim punk rock band smashed every stale preconception and narrow media depiction of Muslim women into a million shards. It celebrated the gloriously kaleidoscopic complexity of identity with every power chord and whiplash edit.


From that opening rehearsal sequence, I was hopelessly hooked on the badass spirit and anarchic energy of these ladies. We Are Lady Parts instantly shot to the top of my must-obsess-over list, a true word-of-mouth gem that demanded to be evanglized to everyone I knew. I was fully ready to get this transcendent show's gritty theme song "Besharam Sisterhood" permanently tattooed on my body.


Because make no mistake, We Are Lady Parts isn't just extremely self-aware satire or edgy shock value - it's a remarkably heartfelt and nuanced exploration of what it means to be a modern Muslim woman navigating the world's countless mixed messages and contradictions. At its core burns the journey of Amina Hussain (the phenomenal Anjana Vasan), an introverted Ph.D. student torn between pleasing her conservative BFF and the thrilling allure of unleashing her inner rockstar.


Vasan is utterly transfixing, investing Amina with utterly relatable anxiety, beaming optimism, and piercingly thoughtful self-reflection. You experience her gradual evolution from meek people-pleaser to unapologetic badass vicariously through Vasan's achingly authentic performance. It's a true transformative arc that feels not just narratively earned, but spiritually profound - a powerful testament to the liberating potential of embracing your truest self, consequences be damned.


When Amina finally lets rip with volcanic guitar solos, you feel her long-suppressed soul unfurling with pure catharsis. It's impossible not to see reflections of yourself and your own struggles to be seen as a whole, uncompromised individual in Amina's arc. She's all of us, Muslim or not, grappling with society's oppressive expectations and yearning to smash them into rubble while rocking the eff out.



A Blistering Rebuke of Stereotypes


While Amina is the show's radiant beating heart, We Are Lady Parts is an exceptionally brilliant ensemble piece that burns with transgressive energy from a multitude of angles. Each member of the eponymous band is fiercely unique, boldly demolishing every vapid Muslim woman stereotype in exhilarating ways.


There's the gloriously complex Saira (Sarah Kameela Impey), Lady Parts' outrageous dual-mohawked frontwoman who ferociously embodies the show's anarchic punk spirit. Just when you think you have her rebel persona figured out, writer/director Nida Manzoor peels back layers revealing Saira's deep spirituality and longing for family of her own. It's an intricate identity juggling act that Impey makes look thrillingly effortless as she sneers anti-establishment manifestos one minute and tenderly prays the next.


Then you have iconoclasts like mysterious manager Momtaz (Lucie Shorthouse) who vapes and slings spiked accessories while obscured by a niqab. She shamelessly hawks "shag-me" lingerie one minute, then finesses Lady Parts a gig the next. Her true face remains unseen yet she transcends tired stereotypes in every stylish frame.


Even more subversive is free-spirited bassist Bisma (Faith Omole) an unapologetically sexual provocateur whose confidence and bold creativity leaps off the screen with dazzling verve. She's an expression of Muslim female identity we've virtually never witnessed before - and it's impossible to look away. Manzoor fearlessly embraces Bisma's vibrant layers without judgement or titillation.


At the same time, We Are Lady Parts doesn't turn its back on those Muslim women who do embody more traditional values and beliefs—it simply depicts them with far more authenticity and nuance than we're accustomed to. From the supportive yet endearingly gossipy mothers to Noor's deeply-felt connections to faith, the series seeks to expand perspectives rather than repudiate them outright.


What unites everyone across this tapestry of identities is a galvanizing anger at society's inability to see Muslim women outside a monolithic, repressed box. Their searing punk anthems and adrenaline-charged performances become an electrifying vehicle for demolishing those crushing societal limitations.Every power chord becomes a joyous declaration of individuality. Every head-banging melody is a hard-fought rebuke of a culture constantly attempting to shrink these women down to shallow archetypes.



A Punk Rock Revelation


Let's take a breath and talk about the music, shall we? Because these incendiary original tracks that slice through We Are Lady Parts are nothing short of revelation. These in-your-face numbers by the Manzoor writing team positively detonate with righteous fury and unbridled expressiveness.


Just look at those deliriously brazen titles: "Giddy Bitch", "Voldemort Under My Headscarf", the almighty "Besharam Sisterhood" - these titles alone make your blood race. Then you hear the blistering riffs, the gloriously raging vocals (often about eating halal candy or binging Netflix) and you feel pure, unfiltered adrenaline coursing through you.


This is punk rock distilled to its riotous essence - stripped of tired dogma or capitalistic commercialism and powered by boundless creativity and hunger to upend stifling conventions. Every song is a hypnotic incantation that stirs inherent rebellion in your soul no matter your identity or background. These tracks quite simply rock on a molecular level.


Yet Manzoor deftly incorporates genre versatility too. There are no boundaries to the soundscapes she and her crew conjure, from entrancing qawwali-inspired trance grooves to kick-ass covers of iconic songs like "9 to 5" and "Killing in the Name" reimagined with audacious, biting subversiveness. If the original punk movement spoke truth to power, We Are Lady Parts harnesses that defiant spirit like a laser directly upending society's crushing restrictions on Muslim female identity.


From the first distorted power chord to the final lingering note, We Are Lady Parts merges such vitally reflective perspective on modern Muslim womanhood with bravura stylistic expression and endless swagger that you almost can't process it all at once. It's revelatory, hilarious, transcendent, provocative and invigorating all at the same damn time. Or as Saira would likely say (with no small amount of snark): "Oh, you like it? We just ripped music a new hole, no big deal."


We Are Lady Parts Season 1 Review: The Blazing Punk Rock Anthem for a New Generation

A Generation-Defining Masterpiece


So by now it's clear that We Are Lady Parts isn't just a phenomenal TV show for me - it's become an almost religious level of obsession. I'm simply in awe of its ability to make you laugh, think, and headbang your brains out all in the span of a single rollicking episode. I've never seen a series that captures the ethos and anarchic electricity of punk with such purity while exploring such richly complex portrayals of modern Muslim identity.


For me, and legions of fellow fans, this show is nothing short of a generation-defining masterpiece that will be celebrated and cherished for decades to come. Led by incomparable talents like Anjana Vasan, Sarah Kameela Impey, and the subversive virtuoso Nida Manzoor who writes, directs, and constructs We Are Lady Parts' boundary-demolishing soundtrack, this is a series that etched itself permanently in my psyche upon first viewing.



I want everyone on the planet to be as obsessed with We Are Lady Parts as me - not merely to support another great show, but because of how profoundly essential and nourishing its existence feels on both an artistic and social level. This isn't empty provocation; it's the vital sound of a culture screaming to be truly seen and heard in all its multitudes.


We Are Lady Parts is nothing less than a revolution in storytelling, delivered with a blunt punk-rock kick straight to the tender regions. Like the best punk anthems, it leaves you fists defiantly raised and irrevocably changed by the electrifying power you've witnessed. This is a series you don't simply watch - you surrender yourself to it, overwhelmed by the force of its vitality and the truth in its defiance.


So what are you waiting for? Put those knuckles up, hit play, and let We Are Lady Parts thrash you into a higher state of consciousness! This is the show you NEED in your life, besharam punks!



Conclusion


We Are Lady Parts is a masterpiece in every sense - a hilarious yet profoundly thoughtful depiction of Muslim female identity filtered through an anarchic punk rock lens. With a dazzling lead performance by Anjana Vasan and ferocious ensemble work across the board, the series celebrates the kaleidoscopic complexity of these women in the most thrillingly subversive and joyous of ways.


More than that, it's a vital cultural statement and generational rallying cry arriving at the perfect time to demolish stale stereotypes while offering a transcendent artistic experience. Nida Manzoor has crafted something so electrifyingly alive and unique that it burrows directly into your soul. This is punk rock distilled to its riotous essence in service of expanding perspectives and celebrating uncompromised identity. We Are Lady Parts rattles your psyche and overwhelms your senses - you can't experience it without being permanently changed.


At a time when the world so desperately needs to break free of dogmatic ideological prisons, this series is nothing less than a wake-up siren alerting us to our shared humanity and individual glories. Let its anthems ring out infinitely, an inspiring reminder that true rebellion comes not from nihilism, but in proudly being oneself against all oppressive forces.


Enjoying this review? If you love exploring love stories, check out That Love Podcast! We bring you original, bite-sized audio rom-coms. Discover your next favorite here:







10 Question FAQ


1. **What is We Are Lady Parts about?**

It's a British comedy series about a Muslim punk rock band called Lady Parts made up of young women from different backgrounds who are trying to find success while embracing their true rebellious selves.


2. **Who are the main characters?**

The main characters are Amina (Anjana Vasan), an introverted Ph.D. student who becomes Lady Parts' guitarist; fiery lead singer Saira (Sarah Kameela Impey); drummer Ayesha (Juliette Motamed); bassist Bisma (Faith Omole); and the mysterious band manager Momtaz (Lucie Shorthouse).


3. **What's so special about the show?**

It depicts Muslim female characters in a way rarely seen before - as gloriously complex individuals who shatter societal expectations. It exudes a vital and anarchic punk spirit celebrating uncompromised identity and self-expression.


4. **How is the music in the show?**

The music is phenomenal! The original Lady Parts songs like "Besharam Sisterhood" and "Ain't No One Gonna Honour Kill My Sister But Me" are blistering punk anthems dripping with swagger and edgy subversive lyrics.


5. **How is Anjana Vasan's performance as Amina?**

Vasan is an absolute revelation as Amina, investing the role with such authenticity and nuance. Her cathartic evolution from meek people-pleaser into uncompromising rock goddess is genuinely transformative to witness.


6. **What are some highlights of the ensemble supporting cast?**

Sarah Kameela Impey is outrageously good as the multifaceted Saira, embodying punk spirit and spirituality. Faith Omole's uninhibited sex-positive Bisma is a trailblazing depiction of Muslim femininity rarely seen. Lucie Shorthouse's mysterious manager Momtaz is an icon.


7. **How well does the show handle intersections of faith and punk rebellion?**

Extremely well - it celebrates these characters' expressions of Muslim identity while exploring their punk ethos and doesn't treat the two as mutually exclusive in reductive terms.


8. **What's the most impressive part of We Are Lady Parts?**

Its ability to make you think deeply about identity while constantly making you laugh and headbang. The deft balance of substantive perspective and electrifying punk bravado is staggering.


9. **How does it compare to other shows depicting Muslim culture?**

It's utterly groundbreaking and vital, shattering every Muslim female stereotype while celebrating the full spectrum of experiences with uncompromising verve. Nothing comes close.


10. **Why should everyone watch We Are Lady Parts?**

Because it's a generation-defining masterpiece that expands perspectives on Muslim identity through the euphoric lens of punk rock rebellion and self-expression. Plus it positively rocks from start to finish!





Comments


bottom of page