3 Roses Season 2 Review: When Adult Humour Turns Into Adult Embarrassment
What began as a cheeky, flawed guilty pleasure has now spiralled into a loud, tasteless mess. 3 Roses Season 2 doesn’t just push boundaries — it bulldozes them with zero purpose, zero sensitivity, and shockingly little wit. Three years later, the characters return, but the writing hasn’t grown up at all. Instead, it doubles down on cheap thrills, dated tropes, and an aggressively male gaze that mistakes noise for comedy and voyeurism for liberation.
Story
Set three years after the events of Season 1, 3 Roses S2 reunites Meghana, Indu, and Ritu at different crossroads in life. Indu is now married and a mother, Meghana’s disastrous marriage to the miserly Veera Bhoga Vasanta Rayalu ends in divorce, and Ritu struggles to stabilise her startup while reconnecting with exes from her past. The trio is joined by a new roommate, Srashti — a K-drama-obsessed, validation-seeking young woman desperate for romance.
The narrative unfolds largely through flashbacks as the women catch up on lost time. On paper, it promises growth, reflection, and second chances. In execution, it’s a scattershot of random episodes stitched together with crude humour, racist jokes, and sensational scenes that exist purely for provocation. There is no emotional arc, no coherent progression — just chaos masquerading as bold storytelling.
Performances
Performances are one of the season’s biggest letdowns. Almost everyone is stuck in permanent overdrive, shouting their way through scenes in the hope of registering impact. Among the leads, Rashi Singh emerges as the most sincere, attempting to lend some depth to Meghana despite the writing doing her no favours.
Eesha Rebba appears disengaged for most of the runtime, her expressions locked between irritation and exhaustion. Kushita Kallapu, as Srashti, is written and performed in an unbearably grating manner — loud, shallow, and cartoonish.
On the male side, Satya is the lone bright spot, extracting laughs through sheer timing even when the material is painfully weak. The rest — Sudharshan, prabhas Sreenu, surya srinivas — merely add to the relentless noise.
Technicalities
Technically, 3 Roses S2 is uninspired. Direction follows a mechanical, episodic rhythm with no flair or control. The editing lacks finesse, and scenes stretch far beyond their welcome. The music fails to enhance mood or energy, serving as forgettable background filler.
The colour palette is occasionally vibrant, but the camera work often feels voyeuristic and insensitive, lingering where it shouldn’t. Instead of empowerment or authenticity, the visuals reinforce objectification.
Analysis
Much like its first season, 3 Roses continues to be a telugu echo of Four More Shots Please, itself inspired by Sex and the City. While Season 1 survived on novelty and shock value, Season 2 exposes the emptiness beneath.
The show imagines “liberated women” through a deeply flawed lens — as chaotic, hyper-sexual, emotionally clueless beings constantly surrounded by sleazy men. Meghana’s arc provides some amusement, especially her exaggerated marital flashback, but it’s fleeting. Ritu’s storyline with two exes is confusing and regressive, leaning on outdated tropes of humiliation-driven transformation.
Srashti’s character is the most problematic — reduced to a caricature whose freedom is equated with stupidity. Her racially insensitive K-drama jokes and the disturbingly voyeuristic photoshoot episode are low points. The portrayal of Mano’s gay manager data-borders on offensive stereotyping.
Ultimately, the season feels like a group of men guessing how independent women live, love, and think — and getting it embarrassingly wrong.
What Works
• Satya’s comic timing in isolated moments
• Meghana’s divorce flashback track
• Occasional visual vibrancy
What Doesn’t Work
• Cheap, offensive adult humour
• Problematic male gaze throughout
• Loud, exhausting performances
• Racist and homophobic stereotypes
• No emotional depth or narrative purpose
Bottom Line
3 Roses Season 2 is a sequel nobody needed and a reminder that shock value without substance quickly turns repulsive. What was once pitched as bold and modern now feels dated, tone-deaf, and exhausting. Adult humour isn’t the problem — lazy, offensive writing is. Proceed only if you enjoy chaos dressed up as liberation.