Cancellation of theatrical release, announcement of an OTT premiere, a court case, and subsequent return to the big screen — Karan Sharma’s time-loop comedy Bhool Chuk Maaf, starring Rajkummar Rao and Wamiqa Gabbi, made headlines before hitting screens. And the runup to its release was perhaps more compelling than the story it eventually delivers.
In theory, Bhool Chuk Maaf promises a unique concoction: a time-loop dramedy infused with small-town charm. But in practice, it collapses under the weight of its own ambition. The film tries to reimagine the classic Groundhog Day formula (of a man stuck in a time loop) through a desi lens, but ends up feeling like a moral science lecture you didn’t sign up for.
Set in Varanasi, the film follows Ranjan Tiwari (Rajkummar Rao), a jobless dreamer who has failed every competitive exam known to the Indian middle class. He’s in love with Titli (Wamiqa Gabbi), and her father agrees to their union on one condition: Ranjan must secure a government job in two months. When he fails, he turns to bribery, and then to faith — vowing a good deed at a Shiva temple in exchange for divine intervention. The job miraculously comes through. But instead of his big fat wedding day, he wakes up to the same haldi ceremony over and over again. Time loops, but the film never moves forward.
The film’s treatment of time loop is both shallow and muddled. It takes over an hour to establish the core conflict that was already obvious in the trailer. The pacing is sluggish, the humour often crass, and the moral messaging is spoon-fed to the audience like a lesson in a third-grade textbook.
The film is at its worst when it tries to be funny — it’s lazy writing masquerading as comedy. There are moments, though, when a chuckle escapes, mostly thanks to Rao’s comic timing, but they're few and far between.
When the script isn’t being loud, it’s being preachy. A long, tone-deaf monologue delivered by Sanjay Mishra in the climax about how Ranjan has “saved humanity” lands with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
Even more disappointing is the film’s portrayal of love. The romance between Ranjan and Titli is utterly unconvincing. Gabbi’s performance is over-the-top and there’s no discernible chemistry between the two leads. Titli seems to exist merely as a narrative device — a goal for Ranjan to chase, rather than a fully formed character with desires of her own. Her willingness to sacrifice everything, including her mother’s jewellery, for an underachieving boyfriend perpetuates harmful stereotypes about small-town women’s ambitions being limited to marriage.
Rajkummar Rao remains the lone bright spot. He brings sincerity, restraint, and impeccable comic timing to a character, who, in lesser hands, would have been insufferable. But you’re never truly convinced of his moral growth. The script never gives him the depth or redemption arc he deserves.
The ensemble cast is, on paper, delightfully oddball. Sanjay Mishra plays Bhagwan, a fixer who finds jobs for a fee. Seema Pahwa is Ranjan’s achaar-making mother, while Raghubir Yadav turns in a forgettable performance as his unemployed father.