Tere Ishq Mein Review

Anand L Rai returns to the world of painful, all-consuming love with Tere Ishq Mein, and this time he drags it from the lanes of romance into the corridors of power, cockpit of a fighter jet, and even UPSC exam halls. On paper, it sounds wild. On screen, it’s often gripping, sometimes illogical, but almost always emotionally heavy.

A Love Story That Starts in the Sky and Lands in UPSC

We meet Dhanush as an Indian Air Force pilot who literally saves India from the enemy without firing a single weapon. As an idea, it’s a brilliant, goosebump-inducing set-up. In execution, though, the science and logic make you raise an eyebrow. Add to that the familiar Bollywood trope: IAF pilots constantly screaming and seething with anger. It feels more like a cinematic stereotype than a peek into real armed forces professionalism.

From there, the film quickly zooms into its emotional core: the twisted, layered equation between Dhanush and Kriti. Her character isn’t just another love interest; she’s an academic determined to prove her thesis by “improving” Dhanush – turning a flawed, intense man into the subject and proof of her research. Because of that, a large part of the film plays almost like Kriti vs. Dhanush, as if she’s fighting him, studying him, and sometimes avenging something, rather than just loving him.

And then, before you know it, this love story slowly morphs into a battle for UPSC. One minute you’re watching romance and emotional breakdowns, and the next, it feels like a high-stakes exam-film drama. You genuinely catch yourself thinking: ye film love story se kab UPSC ki ladai ban gayi?—but in a weirdly entertaining way.

Performances: Dhanush & Kriti Hold the Screen

The biggest strength of Tere Ishq Mein is its performances and chemistry.

• The face-off scenes between Dhanush and Kriti, especially the ones where they’re just talking, staring, and silently attacking each other with their eyes, are breathtaking. You feel the frustration, the unresolved love, and the hurt in their expressions alone.
• In the flashback, there’s a moment where Dhanush’s character gets slapped by Kriti. It’s a small beat, but it lands beautifully because of how it’s staged and performed.
• Dhanush’s dialogue delivery is very much in the zone of his Raanjhanaa days – that same rawness, that same emotional rhythm. For some, that’ll feel nostalgic; for others, a bit too familiar.
• Kriti’s character has real weight and agency. She isn’t just the girl who supports the hero. She has her own ambition, her own flaws, and the story bends around her choices. You don’t see this kind of layered female lead every day in mainstream Bollywood.

Prakash Raj, as Dhanush’s father, is incredible. He brings that tender yet powerful presence, especially in emotional beats. There’s a heartbreaking stretch where the film uses two consecutive frames—in one, a girl is crying; in the next, a father is breaking down for his son. They’re not shown side by side, but one after another, and together they make for a truly stunning cinematic moment.

Vineet Singh pops in for a memorable cameo, adding texture rather than just fan service. And then there’s the surprise that will make Raanjhanaa fans sit up: the film connects to Raanjhanaa through Mohammad Zeeshan Ayyub’s OG character, who shows up in an unexpected cameo, remembering Dhanush’s original Banaras pandit avatar. For many, that’s the point where cinema “peaks” – a pure fan moment done right.

Across the board, every actor seems well-cast, and the cameras know exactly where to be in each scene. The framings, especially in emotionally heavy moments, feel thought-through and purposeful.

Storytelling & Direction: Classic Anand L Rai Emotions

Where Tere Ishq Mein really shines is in the way it moves between timelines. The switching between flashbacks and the present day is genuinely smooth and engaging. Every time the film jumps in time, it adds context, deepens the emotional stakes, or re-frames what you thought you understood.

The film stays deeply connected to real life in its emotional beats. The petty fights, the ego, the pain of separation, the madness of trying to prove yourself to someone you love – it’s all very recognisable. That’s what makes this feel like a true Anand L Rai film: heightened drama, but always anchored in messy, everyday human emotions.

The tables keep turning as the story progresses. Equations flip, power shifts, and you’re constantly wondering, what exactly is the climax going to be? You genuinely keep guessing till the end.

Logic vs. Cinematic Liberty

Now, the flipside.

The movie takes big cinematic liberties, and not all of them are easy to swallow.

• Kriti’s character casually travelling to Leh Ladakh during pregnancy is one of those decisions where you just want to stand up and ask, “Honestly, why?”
• Dhanush clearing the UPSC prelims in three years feels more like a filmy flex than a grounded struggle. Yes, people do crack UPSC, but the way it’s folded into the love story feels a bit far-fetched, like something that “only happens in Bollywood”.
• Many of the actions taken by the characters, especially to “justify” their feelings or decisions, are extreme. The film keeps pushing situations to the limit to make a point, and sometimes it feels like too much.

And yet, there is method in that madness. The film is very clear about its core idea:

The goal was never just to become successful or earn money. The goal was to achieve the impossible in love.

From that lens, the UPSC track and all the extremes are less about realism and more about cinematic metaphor. It’s love treated as an impossible mountain, and cracking an exam becomes a symbol of what a person is willing to do for ishq. That’s where the film earns its “cinematic liberty” tag.

A Painful Love Story That Stops Short of Legendary

The love shown in Tere Ishq Mein is beautifully painful. It’s the kind of dard that stays with you, the sort of love story that will definitely be remembered as one of the more tragic romances in recent Bollywood — the kind where you ask, kya faida uss pyaar ka jo jeete ji na mile? And yet, that is exactly the kind of emotion the film wants you to sit with: love that doesn’t get a happy ending, but burns bright anyway.

Still, when you inevitably compare it to Raanjhanaa, this film doesn’t quite reach that legendary level. It has moments where the cinema absolutely soars – the cameos, the confrontations, the visual choices, the dialogues – but as a complete package, it doesn’t hit that same iconic status.

What truly stands out though are the dialogues. They’re sharp, quotable, and often piercing. Many lines feel like they’ll live on as Instagram captions and reel audios for a long time.

In the end, Tere Ishq Mein is:

• Emotionally rich ✅
• Logically shaky ❌
• Performances and dialogues: top-tier ✅

A 3.5/5 film that may not be perfect, but definitely makes you feel the weight and wound of impossible love.