'Aankhon Ki Gustaakhiyan’ Review: Shanaya Impresses, Vikrant Does Well, But The Film Misses an Emotional Hook

In a world where every Friday promises a new cinematic escape, Aankhon Ki Gustaakhiyan dares to take the offbeat path, blindfolded, quite literally. With Ruskin Bond's poignant short story The Eyes Have It as its foundation, and Vikrant Massey and debutante Shanaya Kapoor at its helm, this romantic drama could have been a soulful exploration of human connection beyond sight. Instead, it's a clumsy waltz of missed moments, confused storytelling, and flickers of brilliance buried under amateur execution. Let's unpack this slow-moving train ride of love, lies, and limp logic.

Blindfolds, Banter & Boredom: The First Half Fumbles

The film kicks off aboard a scenic train chugging through the North. Jahaan (Vikrant Massey), a visually impaired musician, meets Saaba (Shanaya Kapoor), a spirited theatre artist. Their chemistry sparks in hushed tones and gentle laughter as they withhold the truth about their impairments, building intimacy through voice and presence. The visuals, Mussorie's misty mountains and snowy frames, promise poetic depth. But alas, the story soon derails.

The first half is solely focused on Jahaan and Saaba, which sounds romantic on paper. But after a point, you start wondering where this is even going? The narrative feels like an awkward dance of blindfolds worn, removed, worn again. Saaba isn't actually blind; she's just method-acting for a play where she portrays a visually impaired woman. Her house help even mockingly calls her "Gandhaari." And while that's meant to be a quirk, it ends up feeling bizarre. Who stays blindfolded for days just for prep? Even Daniel Day-Lewis would raise an eyebrow.

Meanwhile, Jahaan chooses not to disclose his blindness either, and their entire relationship is built on selective half-truths. The premise, while tender in thought, is marred by a screenplay that feels both undercooked and overdramatic.

Script, Screenplay & Sleepiness: Where's the Spark?

Let's just say it: the writing is a hot mess. There's an interesting seed of emotion buried somewhere, but it never blossoms. The screenplay drags, the transitions are abrupt, and the dialogues often sound like recycled Instagram captions pretending to be poetry. There's very little grip or direction in the first half, and no emotional investment is built. You don't feel for Jahaan, Saaba, or their so-called soul connection.

By the second half, new characters enter and thank heavens for that, we get a break from the over-reliance on just two faces. Enter Zain Khan Durrani as Abhinav, Saaba's boyfriend after a 3-year leap. He's the perfect green-flag man, kind, supportive, emotionally present, almost too good to be real. Honestly, at this point, you start rooting for him just to escape the brooding blandness of everything else.

But even the improved pace can't salvage the muddled middle. There's a scene where Jahaan and Saaba share drugged drinks, and what follows is supposed to be a dramatic confrontation. Instead, we get dizzy editing, blurry frames, and voices that sound like an AI-generated bad trip. Think 3 Idiots Raju's paralysis voice but on acid. It's jarring, and not in the artistic way.

Acting Check

Now, let's talk performances and here's the twist. The real surprise of this film is Shanaya Kapoor. Yes, a debutante. And no, not just another nepotism case study. Shanaya delivers a performance better than most of her Gen-Z star-kid counterparts. Be it Suhana, Khushi, or even Sara, Shanaya brings screen presence, emotive control, and a crying scene that genuinely tugs a little. She has the potential, that's for sure. With the right script and director, she could bloom into something substantial. As for

Vikrant Massey, he's undeniably charming, but sadly feels slightly robotic here. Maybe it's the lackluster writing, maybe the uninspired direction, but his portrayal of Jahaan doesn't stir the soul like Ayushmann in Andhadhun or Rajkummar Rao in Srikanth. The performance isn't bad; it's just... there.

As a pair, Shanaya and Vikrant do manage to create a passable chemistry. There are some tender scenes where their bond does peek through, but it's like a fire trying to stay lit in a storm of weak scripting.

Cinematography: A Visual Treat That Deserved a Better Story

Now here's where the film shines, its visuals. Aankhon Ki Gustaakhiyan is beautiful to look at. The Himalayan train journey, the Budapest sequences, the snow-kissed rooftops, it's all shot with grace. The cinematographer deserves full credit for keeping viewers at least visually engaged when the story falls flat. Every frame is soaked in soft hues, natural light, and postcard-worthy landscapes. If only the storytelling had half as much finesse, we could've had a winner.

Final Verdict: A Misfire With a Bright Spark

So where does Aankhon Ki Gustaakhiyan land in the vast ocean of Hindi romantic dramas? Somewhere between "almost touching" and "completely lost." It's a film that had potential, a good story seed, an emotional concept, a promising debutante, and a seasoned lead. But the execution is half-baked, the screenplay clumsy, and the emotional quotient practically absent. This one leaves you confused more than moved, laughing where you should be crying, and wondering if maybe you too should've worn a blindfold, just to get through it.