Tu Jhoothi Main Makkaar (Romantic) Full Movie _ Ranbir Kapoor, Shraddha Kapoor

  • 2 months ago
Madness ensues when a 'Player' in the world of romantic relationships finds a girl who's a worthy opponent. Tu Jhoothi Main Makkaar is a film that believes Love is a battle of wits.
Mickey, a carefree businessman and womaniser, helps couples break up. However, things change for him when he falls for Tinni, a witty and beautiful chartered accountant.
Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Shraddha Kapoor, Anubhav Singh Bassi, Dimple Kapadia, Boney Kapoor

In a normal universe, Tu Jhoothi Main Makkaar is about a ‘boy’ and a ‘girl’ who fall in love only to realize that they want different things from life. Breaking up is a problem because they’re not Gen Z enough to ghost each other. At most, they hang around in the relationship until the love dissipates. Anything to not have “the talk”. In this normal universe, the film is certainly not called Tu Jhoothi Main Makkaar, or anything on the lines of Sonu Ke Titu Ki Pyaar Ka Punchnama. But in Luv Ranjan’s universe, this same story is a bitter battle of sexes between a good-looking boy and a gorgeous girl who tries to leave him because – horror of horrors – she likes her independence and his family is too overbearing.

You can’t say Ranjan isn’t trying. If anything, this is him reacting to the criticism – that is, the (correct) accusations of casual misogyny bubble-wrapped in crowd-pleasing comedy – of his previous movies. You see, the women in those movies (Pyaar Ka Punchnama, Sonu Ke Titu Ki Sweety) were scheming, conniving caricatures who forced their boyfriends to choose between bromance and romance. Love was a messy war of ownership. But here, the conflict is centered on the woman’s inability to be cruel and manipulative; she is too evolved to be the quintessential Luv Ranjan heroine. (Coincidentally, actress Shraddha Kapoor’s breakout film, from 2011, was called Luv Ka The End). Her Nisha in this film is so nice that, rather than force poor Rohan (Ranbir Kapoor) to choose between his family and her, she attempts to do the nobler thing: Gaslight him into believing he’s the issue. Nisha would rather have Rohan reject her than the other way around. You see, her dishonesty is merely an expression of compassion. This is Luv Ranjan being progressive.

Never mind that Rohan, like his Kartik Aaryan-esque predecessors, decides to turn her predicament into a game. At stake is the incorruptible Indian idea of marrying not just the person, but also the family. In the pink corner lies Rohan’s courage to go from cold Casanova to heartbreaking martyr, and his pride of being a Momma’s Boy. In the blue corner lies Nisha’s reluctance to sacrifice her own ambitions at the altar of Rohan’s Barjatya-shaped love. There can be only one winner. At one point, he subjects Nisha to a sexist rant about women and jobs – except that he’s only pretending to be a horrible man. He’s pretending to be a Kabir Singh so that nobody blames her. For a moment, I was almost impressed by Luv Ranjan’s self-awareness to use toxic masculinity as a smokescreen.