A Volatile Mix of Obsession and Illogical Melodrama
In the cinematic universe of director Aanand L. Rai, love is rarely a gentle breeze; it is usually a hurricane that leaves debris in its wake. In 2013, he gave us Raanjhanaa, a film that romanticized persistence to the point of harassment. Now, in 2025, Rai reunites with writer Himanshu Sharma (joined by Neeraj Yadav) for Tere Ishk Mein, a “spiritual sequel” that trades the ghats of Varanasi for the political corridors of Delhi University and the skies of Ladakh. Unfortunately, despite a decade of social evolution, the film’s understanding of romance remains stuck in the dark ages, burdened by a script that tries to be everything at once and ends up being nothing of substance.
The Premise: An Unethical Experiment
The film introduces us to Shankar (Dhanush), the archetype of the “angry young man” that Bollywood refuses to retire. As the president of the Delhi University Students Union, Shankar is a walking Molotov cocktail—explosive, violent, and devoid of impulse control. Enter Mukti (Kriti Sanon), a calm, composed PhD scholar in Psychology who harbors a dangerous “God Complex.” She posits that aggressive behavior is merely a symptom that can be cured, and she chooses Shankar as her lab rat.
What begins as a fascinating, albeit ethically bankrupt, premise—a woman dating a man purely for her thesis—quickly descends into a murky melodrama. Mukti’s character is problematic from the onset. She consciously manipulates a volatile man, documenting his “rehabilitation” while he falls hopelessly in love, oblivious to his status as a research subject. When the thesis is done and the guilt kicks in, the writers resort to the laziest conflict resolution: a condition for marriage. Mukti asks the street-brawling Shankar to clear the UPSC exams, a hurdle she believes he will never cross, allowing her to escape the relationship unscathed.
A Narrative Identity Crisis
One of the most glaring issues highlighted in this Tere Ishk Mein movie review is the film’s severe identity crisis. The first half plays out like a toxic college romance, heavy on political violence and gender stereotypes. Then, in a jarring tonal shift, it briefly morphs into an underdog academic drama where Shankar, fueled by rage and love, actually clears the UPSC prelims. Just as the audience settles into this narrative, the film pivots again.
When Mukti leaves him for Jasjeet (an unseen presence for much of the film) and moves to the US, Shankar’s reaction is to firebomb her father’s house—a criminal act that the film treats as a display of heartbreak rather than felony arson. Following this, the narrative time-jumps, transforming Shankar into an ace Indian Air Force pilot. The transition is so abrupt and lacks such logical continuity that it gives the viewer whiplash. We go from student politics to Devdas-style alcoholism, to 12th Fail perseverance, and finally to a war drama, all within the span of 160 minutes. It feels like three different scripts were shredded and taped together.
The Problematic Psychology
For a film centered around a psychology scholar, Tere Ishk Mein displays a shocking ignorance of how human minds (or the military) actually work. Mukti, who is supposedly brilliant, crumbles under the weight of her own choices, spiraling into alcoholism and liver cirrhosis in the second half. The script punishes her agency by turning her into a tragedy, while simultaneously glorifying Shankar’s refusal to move on.
The reunion of the lovers—Shankar as a court-martialed pilot and Mukti as a heavily pregnant military counselor—stretches suspension of disbelief to its breaking point. The idea that the Indian Air Force would allow a visibly unstable, alcoholic, civilian ex-lover to conduct a psychological evaluation on a suspended pilot during a war crisis is laughable. It trivializes the gravity of mental health and military protocol in favor of forced emotional confrontation.
Performances: The Saving Grace
If there is a reason to endure this runtime, it is Dhanush. As Shankar, he is a force of nature. Whether he is thrashing political rivals or silently shedding a tear while gripping a joystick, his conviction is absolute. He humanizes a character written to be unlikable, bringing a raw vulnerability to Shankar’s toxicity. However, even Dhanush’s brilliance cannot hide the fact that Shankar is a walking red flag who needs therapy, not a fighter jet.
Kriti Sanon turns in a commendable performance, particularly in the film’s quieter moments. She does her best to sell Mukti’s internal conflict, but the writing lets her down. Her character’s arc—from a manipulative academic to a dying, regretful alcoholic—feels punitive and disjointed. The supporting cast, including the reliable Prakash Raj as Shankar’s supportive father and Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub in a nostalgia-bait cameo, are wasted in roles that serve only as plot devices.
Technical Aspects and Music
A.R. Rahman’s soundtrack is the velvet drape over this jagged narrative. The title track, “Tere Ishk Mein,” is a haunting melody that captures the pain the script fails to articulate logically. The background score elevates the tension during the aerial combat sequences, which are shot competently by cinematographer Tushar Kanti Ray. The contrast between the gritty, claustrophobic lanes of Delhi and the vast, cold emptiness of Ladakh is visually striking, even if the storytelling connecting them is weak.
Verdict: A Crash Landing
Ultimately, Tere Ishk Mein is a regressive step back for romantic dramas. It attempts to package obsession as passion and self-destruction as heroism. The climax, involving a suicide mission into a Chinese ship to save the husband of his ex-lover, is meant to be the ultimate sacrifice. Instead, it feels like a manipulative tug at the heartstrings, designed to make the audience weep for a character who spent the last three hours making terrible decisions.
The film operates on the dangerous philosophy that if you love someone hard enough, and destroy yourself thoroughly enough, you become a hero. In 2025, amidst conversations about healthy relationships and mental well-being, this narrative feels not just outdated, but irresponsible.
Final Verdict: Tere Ishk Mein has high-flying ambition but crashes due to engine failure in the script department. Watch it only for Dhanush’s acting masterclass; otherwise, this flight is best canceled.
CINEMA SPICE RATING: ★★ (2/5)
