The Toxic Love Story That Left Us Shaking Our Heads
In a world where toxic male leads seem to dominate our screens, we were hopeful when Aanand L Rai took on the challenge of exploring this trope in his film, Tere Ishk Mein. However, the ending left us feeling disappointed and confused.
Meet Shankar, played by Dhanush, a man haunted by a traumatic childhood memory. His rage stems from witnessing his mother's tragic death, which could have been prevented with proper medical care. He's a broken soul, prone to anger and volatility.
Enter Mukti, portrayed by Kriti Sanon, a PhD scholar with a unique belief: she thinks she can eradicate anger from the human psyche through experimental therapy. Her choice of subject? Shankar, who is first introduced to us engaging in violent behavior during a student election. From here, the story takes a cringe-worthy turn.
The first warning sign is Mukti herself. Despite her academic credentials, she slaps Shankar for bullying, a move that feels more like a flirtatious gesture than a disciplinary action. His response, delivered as he's being taken away by the police, is downright creepy, and even the policeman seems to find it amusing. And then, in a bizarre twist, Mukti smiles back at Shankar's request for another slap. It's a disturbing scene that sets the tone for the rest of the film.
Mukti is determined to prove her thesis, and she convinces Shankar to participate in her experiment. She exploits his emotional vulnerability, confusing his affection for her with progress in her research. What follows is a bizarre and unethical portrayal of therapy, where Mukti mistakes Shankar's obsession for improvement and records his emotions without any actual therapeutic intervention.
As the story progresses, things take a turn for the worse. At a bus station, Shankar gets into a fight, and Mukti's response is to ask the victims to slap him to further her experiment. In a scene that lacks any ethical grounding, Mukti agrees to Shankar's demand for physical intimacy in exchange for taking the slap. Psychology and logic take a backseat as the film progresses.
Shankar's outbursts are excused and romanticized, and it takes Mukti's father to finally call the police. But even this moment is twisted, as Shankar's father delivers an emotional monologue before passing away in a tragic accident. The absurdity continues as Shankar returns to curse Mukti and then disappears, leaving her spiraling into a world of alcohol and broken relationships.
The film fails to address the primary issue: Mukti's lack of agency and common sense. She knows Shankar is unstable, yet she continues to lead him on, enabling his toxic behavior. The story glorifies Shankar's aggression and Mukti's poor decision-making, missing an opportunity to critique toxic masculinity.
While the acting, especially Prakash Raj's performance, was commendable, the story left much to be desired. Tere Ishk Mein had the potential to dismantle a destructive trope, but instead, it reinforced it. It's a disappointing portrayal of a female psychologist, reducing her to a punchline with lines like, "Aise ladke, ladki ko shaadi ke jode mein dekhkar shant ho jaate hain."
This film could have been a powerful antidote to the toxic alpha behavior we often see on screen. But instead, it worships the very traits it should have exposed. A missed opportunity, indeed.
What are your thoughts? Do you agree that the film missed the mark, or do you see it differently? Feel free to share your opinions in the comments below!
