FILM REVIEW: ''TERE ISHK MEIN'' [Despite new costumes, Tere Ishk Mein follows the exact core rhythm of Khuda Aur Mohabbat Season 3.]

Critical

ONE-LINER: "Despite new costumes, ''Tere Ishk Mein'' follows the exact core rhythm of ''Khuda Aur Mohabbat Season 3."

"Many viewers might not realize this, but Tere Ishk Mein plays out almost exactly like a film adaptation of the 39-episode Pakistani smash hit, Khuda Aur Mohabbat (Season 3).

The parallels are striking, with only the archetypes modernized: the royal feudal family is reimagined as the household of a modern-day joint secretary, while the impoverished village protagonist is translated into a struggling father, son, and friend living in a city chawl. While some characters were cut and the screenplay tweaked to fit a film’s pacing, the core rhythm remains the same.

This observation comes from my experience watching over 200 Pakistani dramas, dating back to when they weren't even easily accessible on YouTube. This isn't a criticism of the film; I paid for my ticket and enjoyed the experience but rather an honest observation based on my history with the genre."

Introduction

When Aanand L. Rai announced Tere Ishk Mein with Dhanush returning to Rai’s love realm, viewers expected a mature, thought-provoking spiritual sibling to Raanjhanaa. The advertisement stressed heartache, longing, disobedience, poetry, and the idea that love can shatter and mend in equal measure. However, what is shown on screen is an oddly paradoxical movie: ambitious but familiar, rich in emotion but emotionally detached, and passionate but narratively chilly.

It rapidly becomes evident that Tere Ishk Mein isn’t only influenced by the past; it virtually imitates it. Numerous current drama web shows about obsessive relationships, toxic male protagonists, emotional manipulation disguised as loyalty, and scholarly research on human emotions have similar plotlines. Despite promising a distinct cinematic voice, the picture lands somewhere between Raanjhanaa and the high-drama OTT fare fans have already binge-watched. It feels like a "COPY" in the spirit and structure of a formula that has previously been ingested numerous times, rather than scene by scene.

Tere Ishk Mein isn't a complete disaster, though. In its richest moments, it portrays a visceral ache that clings to you. In its weakest, it shows its own narrative muddle. And at the middle of this mayhem stands Dhanush, unyielding, vulnerable, and captivating, trying to save a film that constantly loses its footing.

Screenplay & Script Sense

The screenplay, by Himanshu Sharma and Neeraj Yadav, follows a unique yet divisive premise. Shankar (Dhanush), a short-tempered and impetuous student activist, is noticed by Mukti (Kriti Sanon), a psychology postgraduate investigating emotional development. Her thesis says that “love can cure violent tendencies.” Shankar turns her into her human subject, not as a romantic companion, but as a test subject.

The script takes its largest risk at this point. The heroine’s love is positioned as an academic project. As a result, the romance arises from one-sided emotional dependence against professional interest rather than from mutual need or spiritual connection. That lack of organic evolution becomes the film’s most devastating shortcoming.

The college-era first half is easily the better written. The thrill of youth, rebellion, wrath, taunting banter, obstinate adoration, and tentative warmth feels real and layered. For a while, the movie makes you believe that it has a deep message about shattered hearts finding consolation in one another.

Direction

Aanand L. Rai has always excelled at chaos, at finding lyricism in small villages, heartache in youth, humor in pain, and beauty in shattered characters. His emotional logic is absent, but his visual grammar is present. Many moments have a "feeling" because they are reminiscent of Rai's own earlier work rather than because they are repeated throughout the movie.

Instead of allowing you to feel it, his guidance tells you what to feel.

Love is regarded like a hurricane. Obsession is portrayed as fate. Emotional boundaries blur without being critically explored. Instead of reflection, the film delivers theatricality.

There is ambition in his approach, and one thinks he wanted to dig into the deeper shades of desire. However, the story becomes inadvertently troublesome if it is not restrained.

The message becomes muddled: are we supposed to sympathize with Shankar’s extreme behavior or censure it? The movie doesn't appear certain.

Still, Rai succeeds in creating immersive atmospheres, notably in the Benaras passages, and in pushing his performers toward psychologically deep performances. The difficulty rests not in implementation but in judgment. The film confuses volume for passion and intensity for depth.

However, Tere Ishk Mein loses steadiness in its second half, when the tale skips ahead seven years. Mukti is still torn; Shankar, who is now a pilot in the Air Force, is still troubled. The writing becomes forced and episodic, even though their meeting should seem fated or disastrous. Instead of watching two flawed beings deal with the anguish of their choices, viewers are expected to sit through melodrama masquerading as profundity.

The screenplay drifts into recognizable tropes: the explosive male lover re-entering the woman’s life, the guilt-ridden heroine trapped between history and duty...The devoted best buddy knows more about the leads than they do about themselves...Proof of "true love" is the terrible spiral of infatuation.

Acting

Dhanush (Shankar)

The main character of the movie is Dhanush. His performance never falters, even when the writing does. His rage is intimidating, his gentleness disarming, and his sadness stifling. You experience him in every shudder of the narrative rather than just watching him perform. The role is elevated by little physical details: The wounded smile when hope flickers The quiver in his voice as love meets humiliation The explosion of wrath when tranquility feels impossible He offers a performance that deserves a far better script.

Kriti Sanon (Mukti)

Kriti plays a difficult role: a lady who is both compassionate and emotionally detached. She lends genuineness to a character that is typically underdeveloped. Her silences convey more than her monologues. When she breaks, it's believable. Yet the film rarely lets her become its complete emotional center, something that could have enriched the narrative greatly.

Supporting Cast

Prakash Raj, Priyanshu Painyuli, Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub, and Tota Roy Chowdhury are impressive in limited screen space. Ayyub in particular is the film’s emotional grounding wire; whenever he appears on screen, the plot becomes more genuine and less theatrical.

Cinematography

Chaos and beauty are juxtaposed in the cinematography. The idea is strong: the warmth of youth vs. the icy vacuum of adulthood. However, the transition isn't smooth, which occasionally gives the movie a jumbled visual appearance. Still, individual photos are magnificent and evocative, especially near the ghats of Benaras.

Music & Background Score

The music of A.R. Rahman is the spiritual lifeblood of the movie. The music reinstates emotional intensity even when the narrative loses its spirit.

“Tere Ishk Mein” (Title Track): haunting, sorrowful, unforgettable

"Usey Kehna" masterfully conveys grief and remoteness. Background score strings, flutes, soft percussion timed precisely with emotional beats Rahman does not only accompany the story; he recounts the inner world of the characters. This soundtrack would have been overly dramatic in a lesser movie. Here, it is the reason many viewers stay invested.

Editing

The editing struggles with rhythm and excess. At 2 hours 49 minutes, the film overstays its welcome. The first half breathes; the second half suffocates. Many scenes repeat the same emotional material, delaying growth substantially.

Had the film been shortened by 25–30 minutes with a deeper focus on character psychology instead of shock drama, it might have met its own aims.

Final Verdict

Tere Ishk Mein is a contradiction. It is physically rich, musically breathtaking, and propelled by a superb lead actor, yet narratively repetitive, emotionally weary, and tonally muddled. It makes excessive use of the clichés of toxic-obsession dramas that we have already seen numerous times on streaming services. Its brilliance occurs in spurts, not as a prolonged emotional trip.

It will be sad, lyrical, and emotionally cathartic to some viewers. Others will find it tedious, familiar, and needlessly dramatic.

In the end, the narrative attempts to depict destructive love as unending love, which may cause more audience division than the producers had meant.

Watch it if you love:

Dhanush's intensely passionate performances. The heartbreaking music of A.R. Rahman... Visually artistic views on small-town love stories

Skip it if you’re tired of:

Toxic romance masked as intensity, slow, messy second halves... Overextended melodrama

One-Liner

[Despite new costumes, Tere Ishk Mein follows the exact core rhythm of Khuda Aur Mohabbat Season 3.]

FILM REVIEW BY

SUYASH PACHAURI

Founder

[DIRECTOR'S DAILY CLAPBOARD] & [GLOBAL BOLLYWOOD]