Director: Vivek Soni
Streaming : Netflix
Cast: R. Madhavan, Fatima Sana Shaikh, Ayesha Raza, Manish Chaudhari, Namit Das, Kumar Kanchan Ghosh
Rating: 3.5/5
Aap Jaisa Koi isn’t your usual feel-good rom-com. It starts like one — two adults meeting over coffee, exchanging polite glances, and gradually warming up to the idea of companionship. But what begins as a slow-burning romance soon unravels into something much deeper and more layered. The film explores love in its most raw form — love that demands self-reflection, confrontation with internalized patriarchy, and uncomfortable choices.
Madhavan plays Shrirenu Tripathi, a 42-year-old Sanskrit teacher from Jamshedpur — soft-spoken, reclusive, and emotionally cautious. Fatima Sana Shaikh is Madhu Bose, a 34-year-old bold and unapologetic French teacher from Kolkata, a woman not afraid to speak her truth or sip her wine. Their chemistry is unlikely yet intriguing. They meet on a dating app and decide to give their bond a shot — but soon realize love is not just about compatibility, but courage.
R. Madhavan delivers a subtle yet powerful performance. He embodies the conflict of a man who thinks he’s progressive but is still tethered to conservative beliefs. His transformation — or rather, exposure — is gradual and unnerving. You can’t hate him, but you can’t excuse him either. That complexity is what makes Shrirenu believable.
Fatima Sana Shaikh is a revelation. As Madhu, she is grace with grit. Her ability to show vulnerability without weakness and strength without aggression gives her character real weight. Even when the writing falters slightly, Fatima anchors the emotion.
Ayesha Raza is the film’s quiet thunder. As the housewife who has swallowed her voice for decades, she has some of the most stirring dialogues. Her character doesn’t yell, but her silence is louder than any scream.
Manish Chaudhari and Namit Das are well cast — representing different shades of everyday misogyny. One overt, one casual. Both disturbingly familiar.
Director Vivek Soni crafts Aap Jaisa Koi as a love letter — not to an individual, but to the idea of love that requires growing up. The film doesn’t romanticize compromise but challenges who gets to ask for it. The screenplay, co-written by Jehan Handa and Radhika Anand, is more an internal monologue than a narrative sprint. The dialogues are intelligent, even poetic at times, but occasionally veer into the theatrical.
What’s admirable is the film’s refusal to simplify. It doesn’t villainize the man entirely, nor does it glorify the woman. Instead, it lays bare the deeply ingrained gender norms both are complicit in — willingly or not.
The cinematography is deeply romantic without being indulgent. The bylanes of Jamshedpur, the rains of Kolkata, the interiors of modest Indian homes — everything has texture and warmth. The music is understated, enhancing emotions without overwhelming them. From soft acoustic tracks to poignant silences, the film knows when to speak and when to let quietness sink in.
The film isn’t without its missteps. The pacing in the second half slows down more than necessary, and the climax, while thematically strong, may leave some viewers conflicted. Certain narrative choices, especially in how Madhu’s agency is tested, feel more provocative than resolved. There’s an ambiguity in its resolution that will frustrate some and intrigue others.
But perhaps that’s the point — love, especially when dissected under the lens of social conditioning, doesn’t come with neat answers.
Aap Jaisa Koi is not just a film about falling in love — it’s about confronting the love we were taught to seek and the compromises we normalize in its name. With powerful performances, layered writing, and sincere direction, it challenges viewers to think, feel, and unlearn.
Watch it if: You're done with surface-level romances and want something that speaks to the heart and the mind.
Skip it if: You prefer romance without uncomfortable truths and prefer resolutions wrapped in fairy-tale bows.