Director - Ravi Udyawar
Writer - Abhiruchi Chand 
Cast - Siddhant Chaturvedi, Mrunal Thakur, Ila Arun, Joy Sengupta, Ayesha Raza, Sandeepa Dhar, Deepraj Rana, Mona Ambegaonkar, Achint Kaur, Naveen Kaushik 
Duration – 135 Minutes 
 
There’s a certain sweetness to Do Deewane Seher Mein — the kind that reminds you of cutting chai on a rainy Mumbai evening. Pleasant, comforting… but not quite strong enough to wake you up. Directed by Ravi Udyawar and presented under Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s banner, the film promises an intimate, old-fashioned romance. What it delivers instead is a love story that feels stuck in rehearsal, never quite ready for opening night.
 
Set in a refreshingly ordinary Mumbai — apartments with clutter, family dinners with awkward pauses — the story follows Shashank (Siddhant Chaturvedi), a shy marketing executive who sells appliances for a living, and Roshni (Mrunal Thakur), a fashion content creator navigating independence and expectation. Their families initiate the meeting. She hesitates. He stammers. Sparks don’t fly — they flicker. And that slow burn could have been the film’s biggest strength.
 
Instead of dramatic declarations, the film leans into soft conversations and stolen glances. There’s charm in watching two socially awkward adults attempt vulnerability. But just when their chemistry begins to feel believable, the screenplay interrupts itself with predictable misunderstandings. Roshni sees Shashank with another woman and assumes betrayal. The conflict resolves swiftly, only to be replaced with yet another argument that feels inserted purely to check a “second-half tension” box.
 
The irony is that the film wants to be mature about relationships. It references Gulzar’s classic from Gharonda, evoking nostalgia for simpler cinematic romances. Yet the emotional writing lacks the depth that made those films timeless. The confrontations skim the surface; they rarely dive into insecurity, ego, or fear — the real engines of romantic conflict.
 
Siddhant Chaturvedi gives Shashank a gentle awkwardness that feels authentic. His silences are often more expressive than his dialogues. Mrunal Thakur, too, brings warmth and relatability to Roshni, especially in lighter moments. But both actors are let down by inconsistent character arcs. Roshni is introduced as confident and self-aware, yet reacts impulsively when faced with doubt. Shashank admires boldness but falters when he must stand up for himself professionally. The contradictions feel unexamined rather than intentional.
 
The supporting cast — including Ayesha Raza and Joy Sengupta — grounds the film in realism. Family interactions are among its most watchable portions. You sense lived-in relationships, unspoken expectations, generational contrasts. These fragments hint at a richer story lurking beneath the surface.
 
Visually, the film avoids gloss. Mumbai isn’t romanticized; it’s lived in. The direction favors restraint over spectacle. But restraint without emotional layering becomes flatness. Even at its climax — when both protagonists accept each other’s flaws — the resolution feels tidy rather than transformative.
 
Do Deewane Seher Mein isn’t a bad film. It’s just a cautious one. It flirts with complexity but retreats into safety. There are moments of sincerity, flashes of chemistry, and an appealing grounded-ness. Yet the love story never fully blossoms. Like its title suggests, it’s about two dreamers in a city — but their dream remains half-formed, hovering somewhere between almost and enough.