Cast: Mahira Khan, Humayun Saeed, Ramsha Khan, Ahmad Ali Butt
Director: Nadeem Baig
Platform: In cinemas from May 7
Rating out 5: ★★
In the latest offering from Pakistan’s slowly growing film industry, Love Guru arrives dressed to impress, flashing star power, romance, and a glossy production sheen. And yet, despite all its shiny finery and good intentions, this rom-com creaks and groans under the weight of its contradictions, clichés, and clumsy commercialism.
Let’s get the plot out of the way, because the script certainly does. Love Guru stars Humayun Saeed as a professional matchbreaker who makes his living disuniting the lovelorn. He’s a self-styled love guru with a flair for meddling, equal parts charmer and chaos agent. That is, until Mahira Khan enters the picture, cue a breeze, a close-up, and a swelling orchestral swell that practically shouts “Here Comes The Star.”
Mahira plays Zara, an architect and environmentalist who cycles everywhere. Their worlds, as you might guess, are about to collide. Sparks fly, ideologies clash and opposites attract with all the inevitability of a train heading toward a predictably derailment.
Yes, that’s right. Zara, who spends the first act quoting shyer and hugging trees, inexplicably signs on to build a sprawling resort in the middle of a fragile ecosystem and a greenbelt in the countryside. This is a character inconsistency so jarring it feels completely off. But its not important. Whatever internal logic the film had is tossed out the window in favour of advancing the plot.
Still, despite the narrative chaos, the fim does manage a few small triumphs. Most notably, the chemistry between Mahira Khan and Humayun Saeed is warm, witty, and at times genuinely enjoyable. It helps that this marks their reunion after more than a decade, and there’s a nostalgic fizz to seeing them together again on screen. They banter well, share an easy rapport, and lend a dose of authenticity to otherwise implausible story. You almost believe they could fall for each other, even if the script keeps tripping over its own shoelaces.
Visually, Love Guru is a mixed bag. There are moments and shots where the cinematography pauses to breathe and actually manages something quite lovely. But elsewhere, the camera work falls prey to music-video syndrome: too many swooping drone shots, slow-motion montages, and over-filtered close-ups. It’s less visual storytelling and more perfume ad.
What saves the film, ironically, is what Pakistan does best: music. The soundtrack is peppy, polished, and unironically good. There’s a confidence in the compositions that’s lacking elsewhere in the film, and a couple of numbers are toe-tapping enough to distract from the shaky plot.
Now, as for product placement, it isn’t everywhere, but when it shows up, you can tell the film sold its out to a conglomerate. A drink here, a hot air balloon with a logo there, positioned with such self-conscious symmetry you half expect a “Buy Now” link to pop up on screen. It doesn’t saturate the film, but when it lands, it clinks noisily against the fourth wall.
Of course, we’ve seen this all before. Star-crossed lovers, ideological tensions that evaporate at the altar of romance, supporting characters who exist solely to deliver comic relief or moral advice. Love Guru adds nothing new to the formula. There’s no twist in the tail, no undercutting of genre tropes, no subversion of the familiar. It simply dons the same clothes and plots of those who came before, sprays itself with perfume, and hopes you won’t notice.
Is it a deep film? Absolutely not. And it doesn’t pretend to be. It’s full of glitter and empty dialogue. But is it entertaining? Well… yes, in a “pass-me-the-popcorn-and-don’t-make-me-think” kind of way. There’s something reassuring in its unoriginality. Like bad pizza or a late-night rerun of Friends, it doesn’t nourish, but it does comfort.
There’s also a curious tonal dissonance in the film. It wants to be a goofy comedy, a sweeping romance, a social commentary, and a feel-good family flick all at once. The result is a patchwork quilt that’s neither cosy nor cohesive. Side characters flit in and out with little impact. Emotional arcs are rushed. Conflicts are resolved with the narrative equivalent of duct tape and good intentions. And at the centre of it all, two likable stars doing their best with a script that, quite frankly, needed another few drafts.
So: two stars. One for the lead chemistry, and one for the music. The rest: plot, logic, character consistency, and storytelling is largely a second thought. The environmental hypocrisy at the heart of Mahira Khan’s character isn’t just a minor quibble; it’s emblematic of the whole film’s muddled approach. A story about love and ideals that ends up betraying both.
In short: Love Guru is a film that wants to be lighthearted but ends up lightweight. A fizzy, forgettable affair with enough charm to momentarily distract, but not nearly enough substance to linger. Watch it with snacks, low expectations, and one eye on the exit.
