Tere ishq Mein Review : “Unsteady Visuals, Unshakable Emotion — A Love Story That Ultimately Soars on Pure Feeling.

A Review by Gideon Jotham 

Movie : Tere ishq mein

Director : Aanand L. Rai

Duration : 2hr 40 Mins

Language: Hindi

Positives

1. Direction 
2. Screenplay 
3. Dialogue 
4. Music
5. Performance of actors
6. Cinematography 
7. Music

Negatives

1. Vfx
2. Draggy 1st half
3. Duration

STORY 

The film opens with tension in the air, fighter jets slicing through the sky as India faces a looming threat. Among them is Shankar, played by Dhanush, a highly skilled fighter pilot whose reflexes are sharp but whose emotional wounds run deeper than the flight altitude he commands. He’s brilliant at what he does, but his temperament is volatile. Trust isn’t just difficult for him, it’s almost impossible. Orders frustrate him, authority triggers him, and emotional discipline is nowhere in sight.

After a mission where his instability becomes too visible to ignore, Shankar is grounded. The decision hits him harder than any enemy fire, because flying isn’t just his job, it’s his identity. It’s the one place where his mind is quiet and his purpose feels clear. But the Air Force can’t risk unpredictability in the cockpit, so before he can return, he must prove he’s mentally stable through a series of psychological evaluations.

Enter Mukti, portrayed by Kriti Sanon, one of the most respected psychologists in the Air Force. She’s calm, composed, and unshakeably professional. She also happens to be pregnant, carrying a life while Shankar is carrying unresolved grief, fear, and trauma. She becomes the one person standing between him and the sky.

Their interactions aren’t smooth. Shankar treats therapy like a battlefield, defensive, irritated, and desperate to avoid vulnerability. Mukti refuses to be intimidated or manipulated. She sees the emotional fractures he hides under ego and aggression, and she will not sign off on his clearance until he confronts them.

Whether he earns that signature, or breaks under the weight of everything he’s buried, forms the emotional and narrative spine of the film.

Direction 

Aanand L. Rai’s direction in Tere Ishq Mein stands out not just for its technical finesse, but for its emotional intelligence. There’s a remarkable clarity in the way he approaches the narrative, every scene feels intentional, every moment crafted rather than merely filmed. What truly elevates the movie is how seamlessly Rai connects emotion with performance. The characters aren’t just acting; they’re responding, feeling, and existing within the world he builds. That emotional alignment allows the cast to deliver some of their most grounded and relatable work.

The chemistry between characters feels lived-in, not staged, and that comes from a director who understands human behaviour, how silence sometimes speaks louder than dialogue, how a simple glance can carry more weight than a monologue. The pacing respects the emotional density of the story, giving space for moments to hit rather than fly past. Rai blends romance, conflict, longing, and vulnerability with controlled elegance, never letting the drama slip into melodrama.

Overall, his direction is brilliantly executed, mature, deeply connected, and driven by a strong vision. He doesn’t just tell a story; he guides the audience into feeling it. 

Screenplay 

The screenplay works because it understands emotion, not just plot. Instead of rushing from point A to B, it takes its time exploring why the characters feel the way they do and how those emotions shape their choices. The writing gives space for tension, hesitation, silence, and longing, those in-between moments that make a love story feel real instead of performed.

The way scenes are arranged feels organic, almost like the story is unfolding naturally rather than being forced. Flashbacks, pauses, and emotional beats are placed with intention, making every shift in tone feel smooth rather than abrupt. The narrative also balances intensity with tenderness, there are scenes that hit hard, followed by quiet moments that allow the audience to breathe and reflect.

Dialogues are written with an honesty that suits the characters. They don’t sound rehearsed or overly decorated; instead, they flow like real conversations layered with subtext and meaning. When the film needs poetry, it delivers it. When the moment needs simplicity, it stays grounded.

Most importantly, the screenplay treats the characters as individuals with flaws, fears, and desires, not just pieces to move a story forward. Their emotional journeys evolve gradually, and that progression helps the audience connect with them instead of just watching them.

Overall, the screenplay gives the story its depth and emotional rhythm. It lays a strong foundation for the performances, direction, and music to thrive, ensuring the film doesn’t just entertain, it lingers.

Cinematography

The cinematography in Tere Ishq Mein is one of its strongest storytelling tools. The visuals don’t just capture the action ,  they mirror Shankar’s internal state. Aerial sequences are shot with precision and grit, giving the audience a sense of speed, altitude, and danger without relying solely on spectacle. The framing choices often isolate Shankar in wide frames, visually reinforcing his loneliness and emotional disconnect.

Close-ups are used sparingly but powerfully, especially during therapy sessions, where the camera lingers just long enough to expose discomfort, vulnerability, and suppressed emotion. The contrast between the vast openness of the skies and the confined interiors of the psychological evaluation room is intentional ,  freedom versus confinement, action versus restraint, chaos versus healing.

Lighting shifts subtly as the film progresses: colder tones dominate the early portions when Shankar is disconnected, and warmer palettes creep in as he begins to face his past. It’s visual storytelling done with maturity, not desperation. The camera never screams for attention ,  it quietly elevates the narrative.

Editing

The editing is tight, functional, and respectful of the film’s rhythm. Instead of rushing through emotional beats, the editor allows moments to land, especially in scenes involving trauma, therapy, or conflict. The transitions between jet-fuelled aerial combat and grounded emotional exchanges are smooth, helping the story maintain balance without feeling disjointed.

The pacing finds a middle ground: fast-moving during mission sequences, controlled and deliberate during personal and psychological moments. Flashbacks are cut in with clarity and restraint, no over-stylization, no confusion giving just enough context to understand Shankar’s emotional damage without spoon-feeding the audience.

Montage sequences, especially those showing Shankar’s progression, frustration, and internal conflict are handled with finesse. The editing supports the film’s emotional arc rather than forcing it, ensuring that the narrative flows naturally from scene to scene.

Performance of actors 

Dhanush 

Dhanush carries the film with the kind of performance that feels lived rather than acted. As Shankar, he brings intensity, restraint, and raw vulnerability in equal measure. His body language alone speaks volumes: the clipped responses, the defensive posture, the flashes of rage followed by stunned silence. He nails the physicality of a fighter pilot, but it’s the emotional turbulence behind his eyes that truly anchors the story. When the script demands instability, he’s explosive. When it demands collapse, he’s painfully quiet. It’s a layered performance, and easily one of his most psychologically heavy roles.

Kriti Sanon

Kriti Sanon delivers one of her most mature performances so far. As Mukti, she plays calm professionalism without turning cold, and empathy without slipping into melodrama. She holds her ground beside an intense lead, and her scenes work because she never overplays them. There’s a softness in her character, but also steel especially when she refuses to sign the clearance. She portrays a woman balancing duty, compassion, and the emotional weight of her pregnancy with control and grace.

Music

The music in Tere Ishq Mein does more than just sit in the background, it shapes the emotional fabric of the film. The soundtrack blends intensity with vulnerability, just like the story itself. The background score during aerial combat sequences is tense and urgent, heightening the stakes without drowning the visuals. The sound design and score work together to give those moments weight ,  you feel the rush, the altitude, and the danger.

But where the music really shines is in the quieter emotional stretches. The themes tied to Shankar’s trauma and psychological unraveling are subtle, almost haunting. They stay with you. The melodies during therapy sessions don’t try to overshadow the dialogue; instead, they underline the emotional conflict simmering beneath the surface.

The songs are placed thoughtfully, not forced, not random. Romantic tracks carry a bittersweet undercurrent rather than typical sugary romance, matching the tone of a relationship built on healing and confrontation rather than fantasy. There’s a lingering melancholy in the musical palette, reflecting Shankar’s internal battles and Mukti’s empathy.

By the end, the music leaves a mark, not because it’s loud or flashy, but because it understands the story. It supports every phase of the narrative: the chaos, the heartbreak, the growth, and the eventual resolve. It’s crafted with intention, and it elevates the film rather than competing with it.

Drawbacks 

The film has several strong elements, it isn’t without flaws. The visual effects fall noticeably short, especially in high-stakes aerial scenes where realism is crucial. Some shots feel unfinished and lack the polish expected from a film set in a military and aviation environment. This weakens the impact of certain action sequences that should have felt thrilling and immersive.

The runtime also works against the film. The story stretches longer than necessary, particularly in the first half, where pacing becomes a problem. Several scenes linger beyond their emotional value, making the narrative feel slower than it should. The build-up is important, but the execution feels drawn-out, causing the early portion of the film to drag before the core conflict fully settles in.

With tighter editing and improved visual execution, the film could have carried far more punch. As it stands, these issues slightly dilute the intensity and rhythm of an otherwise compelling story.

Final Verdict

Tere Ishq Mein is a film driven by strong performances, grounded emotional depth, and confident direction. The story has weight, the character arcs carry meaning, and the emotional beats land with honesty rather than theatrics. Where the film truly succeeds is in its portrayal of internal conflict, the war inside a soldier’s mind is treated with sincerity, maturity, and layered writing.

However, the flaws are noticeable. The visual effects lack finesse, and the pacing , especially in the first half, tests patience more than it should. A tighter runtime and stronger technical polish could have elevated the experience to a higher cinematic level.

Even with these shortcomings, the film remains impactful because its heart is in the right place. The emotional payoff, the performances, and the narrative maturity make it worth watching. It may not be flawless, but it stays with you, and that matters.

Ratings : 3.5/5

A review by Gideon Jotham.