'Bhool Chuk Maaf' Review: Some confusion, some clarity, & a good amount of fun

Bhool Chuk Maaf (in theaters)

Rating - ***1/2 (3.5/5)

Cast: Rajkummar Rao, Wamiqa Gabbi, Sanjay Mishra, Raghubir Yadav, Seema Pahwa, Ishtikyak Khan, Zakir Hussain & more

Produced by Dinesh Vijan under Maddock Films and co-produced by Sharda Karki Jalota

Directed by: Karan Sharma

It seems poetic in several ways how, in real life, the disorder that Bhool Chuk Maaf found itself tangled in coincides with the very plot of the film. From having a release date to that being pushed into the oblivion of delay, to then opting for a digital release, only to return once again with a theatrical date—it has been messy, bewildering, wondrous, controversial and finally, relieving. A few of these same emotions might wash over you while watching Bhool Chuk Maaf, as it pirouettes from being a simple love story to indulging in twists, to more twists, and then softly, almost sneakily, slipping in a social message.

We have seen this template. Several times. The small-town setting. Rajkummar Rao and his perpetually alive comic timing (Stree, Vicky Vidya Ka Woh Wala Video, Roohi, Stree 2). Humor in abundance, social commentary neatly tucked in, and of course, the climactic monologue that arrives like a grand closing act. You know the drill. And therefore, to rise above these expected tropes and still deliver a film that feels fresh, funny, and full-bodied, is not a walk in the park. Yet Bhool Chuk Maaf dares to do exactly that, and manages to cross the finish line—though not without a few stumbles.

The Setup Is Familiar but Fun

The story kicks off with Ranjan (Rajkummar Rao) and Titli (Wamiqa Gabbi), Banaras locals, attempting to elope. Just as they are escaping into marital freedom, Titli gets cold feet. The police get involved. The parents are summoned. And in a moment of public domesticity, Ranjan—a charming slacker with no job—is served an ultimatum: find gainful employment within two months or forget Titli forever. This is the kind of setup that teases melodrama but settles comfortably into comedy.

Ranjan does find a job, by means less than honorable. But just as their haldi ceremony is to take place, Ranjan finds himself stuck in a strange cosmic situation. He wakes up to the same day again. The haldi repeats. The people repeat. The confusion repeats. Over and over again. The nature of time bends, predictably and unpredictably. Why is this happening? What is the point? And how does he escape it? These are the questions that animate the rest of the film.

Maddock’s Signature Style Is Intact

Let’s be real—on paper, this sounds absolutely bonkers. And yet, that’s precisely the sweet spot Maddock Films has come to occupy. Dinesh Vijan and his creative collective have almost built a cinematic universe out of films that take audacious concepts, sprinkle them with vernacular humor, and turn them into marketable magic. The precedent exists. The model works.

Here, however, the first half of the film is more sluggish than sparkling. The Banaras setting, the culture-coded jokes, the parental pressure, the existential laziness of young men—it is all familiar, maybe too familiar. The small-town rebranding of Rajkummar Rao is starting to feel like a genre of its own. In every other Maddock film, Rao plays some version of the local boy who dances at weddings, hustles at odd jobs, cracks jokes with ease, and somehow finds redemption in love.

But and this is a massive but, Rao still finds something fresh to give in every iteration. He dances, he weeps, he delivers punchlines with the precision of a trained comic, and he makes you care. Even when the tropes begin to feel stale, his commitment resurrects them with a kind of awkward, endearing vitality. He sells the emotion. He sells the confusion. He sells the panic. He sells the magic.

The Second Half Saves the Day

Thankfully, the film kicks into a higher gear once you cross into the second half. The narrative begins to spread its wings. You are now invested in this strange time event, and even though some turns are expected, they still manage to land.

You begin to care about what happens next. There is a rhythm to the madness. A sense of urgency and emotional layering creeps in. The storytelling becomes tighter. The scenes feel better stitched. And just like that, you find yourself laughing and occasionally tearing up at moments you never saw coming.

What makes these films work, when they do work, are two key ingredients. First, the writing that commits to tone and temperament, ensuring a steady stream of humor that never feels forced. Second, the leading actor’s performance that anchors the story, no matter how bizarre the premise gets. Rajkummar Rao delivers on both counts. He carries the story like a man who has done this before and still finds joy in doing it again.

Wamiqa Gabbi Is Striking but Underserved

Across from Rao is Wamiqa Gabbi, who is rapidly becoming one of the more intriguing actors to watch in Hindi cinema. Gabbi, who has already impressed in other projects, gets limited but impactful moments here. She looks stunning, yes. But more importantly, she plays Titli with an infectious unpredictability.

Her character is more show than substance in the first half. But there is a bite to her delivery. When she does get moments to shine, she takes them fully. That being said, her narrative arc in the latter half feels hurried, a little too boxed in. Especially in the climax, where one hoped for a stronger pay-off. Nevertheless, she proves once again that she can carry more than just the 'leading lady' tag. She is compelling. And when the right script truly serves her, the results could be seismic.

Supporting Cast Elevates the Film

What would a Maddock small-town saga be without its ensemble of seasoned scene-stealers? Thankfully, this film doesn’t disappoint on that front. The supporting cast sparkles with individuality and impeccable timing.

Raghubir Yadav, Sanjay Mishra, Ishtiyak Khan, Seema Pahwa, and Pragati Mishra are all in stellar form. They add flavor, weight, and charm to every frame they occupy. These are not just fillers. These are storytellers who breathe life into corners of the narrative that could have otherwise felt empty. They create the texture of the town, the moral compass of the story, and the emotional echoes that stay with you after the film ends.

The Writing Knows Its Territory

Let us not kid ourselves. Bhool Chuk Maaf walks a path that many films have walked before. There is the moral monologue in the end. There is the love story as personal redemption. There is a moment of realization just before the metaphorical curtain call. The patterns are well-worn.

Writers Haider Rizvi and Karan Sharma seem to be working from a kind of sacred manual written by Amar Kaushik and Niren Bhatt, borrowing the structure that has powered many a Maddock success story. The Banaras dialect is effectively rendered. The slang is zippy. The visual and linguistic cues of local life are layered in thoughtfully. And while the film occasionally trips into the pothole of predictability, it mostly navigates the terrain with grace.

A Flawed but Fun Experience

Bhool Chuk Maaf does suffer from the ailments typical to films of its breed. That, in itself, is a bit disheartening. You want something new. You hope for innovation. You wish for disruption. And when the film does not quite deliver that, the disappointment is real.

But here’s where it redeems itself. Debutant director Karan Sharma believes in the film he is making. There is clarity in his execution. There is conviction in his rhythm. The tone remains consistent, the narrative mostly tight, and the entertainment level never dips below a respectable line.

And that is the paradox of films like this. On one side, we yearn for the return of uncomplicated, warm-hearted entertainers. On the other, we sit with our notebooks and analytical minds, dissecting every formulaic beat. But despite all of that, Bhool Chuk Maaf entertains. It makes you laugh. It charms you. And in a world currently addicted to chaos, sometimes all you need is a film that gives you a familiar smile in unfamiliar packaging.

In the end, Bhool Chuk Maaf is a pleasantly chaotic ride that finds emotional clarity in its second half. It is light, likable, and rooted in just enough absurdity to be memorable. Maybe it is not perfect. But it knows what it wants to be. And sometimes, that is more than enough.

Will you be watching Bhool Chuk Maaf in the theaters this weekend? Let us know in the comments below.