Tere Ishk Mein Review: A Love Story That Hurts More Than It Heals

Image Source- The Hindu

There are love stories that don’t arrive quietly, the kind that carry history, echoes, and emotional baggage you feel from the very first frame. Tere Ishq Main is one such film, and it’s almost impossible not to think of Raanjhanaa the moment the trailer drops that familiar background score, triggering a rush of memories that feel both nostalgic and unsettling. The feeling doesn’t land as a comforting callback but more like a warning of what’s to come. With Dhanush returning to a narrative steeped in obsession, longing, and emotional recklessness, the parallels feel intentional. This isn’t a soft or comforting romance meant to be consumed casually. It’s intense, restless, and deeply uncomfortable in places, the kind of love story that sits with you longer than you expect. And that discomfort is exactly what makes it so intriguing.

What Tere Ishq Main does well is lean into that unease instead of smoothing it out for easy consumption. The film shows very little interest in neat resolutions or universally likeable characters, choosing instead to explore emotional messiness in all its contradictions. Much like love stories that blur the line between devotion and self-destruction, it asks difficult questions without rushing to answer them. There’s a rawness here that demands patience, attention, and emotional investment from the viewer rather than passive watching. With the film heading to OTT on the 23rd of January, this feels like the right moment to start the conversation around it. Whether you caught it in theatres or are waiting to stream it, this review is meant to be read first, before you decide how you want to feel about the experience.

Where Curiosity Turns Dangerous

The story revolves around Shankar (Dhanush), a volatile student leader in Delhi whose life is shaped by the unresolved trauma of a painful childhood and the quiet, looming presence of his father (Prakash Raj). His world collides with Mukti (Kriti Sanon), a brilliant psychology scholar who approaches him not out of love, but with a detached, academic curiosity. What begins as observation slowly turns dangerous as Shankar falls into a deep, obsessive love, unaware that he is becoming the subject of Mukti’s ambitious research on aggression and emotional extremes. Set against the charged backdrop of university politics, their relationship unfolds with a volatile mix of raw passion, manipulation, and unspoken intent. The city becomes a character in itself, its chaos mirroring Shankar’s inner turmoil, while A.R. Rahman’s haunting score heightens the emotion. Guided by his father’s silent suffering, Shankar pours himself into a devotion that feels both poetic and deeply self-destructive.

The narrative then shifts in time and space to the stark, high-altitude terrain of an Indian military border. Shankar, now a reckless yet disciplined Air Force pilot, seems to use the vastness of the sky as an escape from memories that refuse to fade. Fate brings him back face-to-face with Mukti, now working as a senior psychological evaluator tasked with assessing his mental fitness for combat missions. Alongside them is Murari (Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub), Shankar’s loyal friend, whose grounded presence offers emotional contrast in a high-pressure environment. This phase of the story focuses on emotional reckoning rather than redemption, as past choices bleed into professional life. As unresolved emotions resurface, the film questions whether time truly heals emotional damage or simply teaches people how to live with it. The tension builds steadily, blending high-stakes action with an intimate confrontation between love, guilt, and accountability.

Performances That Bleed Through the Screen

Dhanush delivers a powerhouse performance that serves as the undeniable emotional anchor of this entire tragic saga. He successfully channels a raw, stunning rage and a fragile vulnerability that make his character deeply moving to watch. Some critics argue that his portrayal occasionally mirrors the obsessive traits of his earlier iconic roles. Kriti Sanon matches his intensity with what many call her most fearless and high-voltage performance to date. She shines particularly in the silent, emotionally charged moments of the second half as her character battles inner trauma. Despite her acting prowess, the writing limits her character’s agency, making some choices feel inconsistent. The sizzling chemistry between the two leads provides the film with its most electric and genuinely memorable sequences. Together, they manage to elevate a polarizing script, turning a potentially toxic narrative into a compelling character study.

The legendary Prakash Raj leaves a tremendous mark in a brief but crucial role as Shankar’s resilient and grieving father. His performance is often described as the film's true heartbeat, delivering a sense of groundedness to the heavy melodrama. Priyanshu Painyuli and Paramvir Cheema provide solid, nuanced support that adds necessary complexity to the central romantic conflict. Fans of the original world will appreciate the Raanjhanaa nostalgia brought by the brief but impactful presence of Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub. While Tota Roy Chowdhury is pivotal to the plot, his antagonistic character has been criticized for being slightly too one-dimensional. Overall, the cast succeeds in bringing a rare, visceral honesty to a story that is as broken as its troubled protagonists.

Melodrama, Music, and Messy Intentions

Aanand L. Rai returns to his comfort zone of emotionally charged storytelling, but the results here are uneven. Visually, the film is rich and atmospherically heavy, every frame soaked in longing, rage, and nostalgia. Where it stumbles is in its tendency to push melodrama to extremes instead of trusting restraint. The screenplay by Himanshu Sharma and Neeraj Yadav aims to dissect obsession in all its ugliness, but the execution doesn’t always land. The first half builds tension effectively, letting discomfort simmer, but the second half feels fragmented, leaning too heavily on coincidences to move the story forward. Kriti Sanon’s character, in particular, suffers from uneven writing, oscillating between emotional vulnerability and calculated manipulation without enough connective tissue. Dhanush, on the other hand, is given some of the film’s sharpest lines, though the way his toxic behaviour is framed will remain a point of debate. Still, Rai’s ability to stage intense, emotionally raw moments ensures the film never completely loses momentum.

A.R. Rahman’s music emerges as the film’s emotional backbone. The title track, Tere Ishk Mein, has already taken on a life of its own, and Arijit Singh’s rage-filled vocals perfectly mirror the protagonist’s spiraling obsession. The song doesn’t just play in the background; it amplifies the film’s emotional chaos. Tracks like Aawaara Angaara add a haunting, almost otherworldly texture to the narrative, while Irshad Kamil’s lyrics bring poetic clarity where the screenplay occasionally falters. Some experimental choices in the background score, particularly jazz-inflected motifs, feel slightly mismatched against the rural and militarised settings. Even so, the music remains the most consistent element of the film, grounding its chaos and reinforcing its themes of love, loss, and destructive surrender.

Final Verdict: Should You Watch It?

Tere Ishk Mein is not an easy film to love, but it stays with you long after it ends. It leans into emotional excess, obsession, and discomfort without offering clean answers or convenient redemption. Anchored by Dhanush’s ferocious performance and supported by haunting music, the film feels like a spiritual echo of Raanjhanaa, darker and more bruised with time. Not every narrative choice lands, and the screenplay often tests patience with its indulgence. Even in its flaws, the film feels honest about the damage love inflicts when obsession replaces empathy. This is a story that demands emotional stamina rather than passive viewing. If you’re willing to sit with its chaos, Tere Ishk Mein becomes a haunting, unsettling experience worth engaging with.

By the way, if you’re into grounded film thoughts, underrated thriller picks, or just plain honest recommendations, I’m over on Instagram:@bingewatch_perspective.  That’s where I post quick recaps, hot takes, and those offbeat gems you might’ve missed.

P.S. And if you loved seeing Dhanush like this, wait until you catch Mammotty in a role we’ve never seen before — my full review of Kalamkaval dives right in.

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