Nari Choritro Bejay Jotil

After Mirza, Ankush once again collaborates with director duo Sumeet–Saahil for a film that blends fantasy, romance and social commentary, while staying rooted in mainstream entertainment. With a plot that vaguely resembles Mel Gibson’s What Women Want, the film manages to localise its idea effectively, thanks to a witty and fast-paced screenplay by Sreejib, layered with humour and emotion in equal measure.

Structured through multiple flashbacks and narrated by Prosenjit Chatterjee, the narrative traces the life of Jagatdata, aka Jhontu (Ankush), an event planner navigating work pressures, personal aspirations and emotional blind spots. Jhontu is quietly in love with his long-term tenant Aankhi (Oindrila Sen), and their relationship forms the emotional core of the film. A series of amusing mishaps leads Jhontu to discover that he can hear what women are thinking — an ability he initially decides to use to his advantage.

What unfolds is a narrative that works on multiple levels. The characters are likeable and relatable, and the sharp dialogues and situational humour keep the laughs flowing. Ankush delivers a confident performance as Jhontu, balancing comic timing with moments of self-realisation, while Oindrila brings warmth and restraint to Aankhi. Debraj Bhattacharya fits into the role of Jhontu’s best friend quite naturally while side quests and plot twists keep the laughs rolling. The story touches upon everyday issues and insecurities of the people surrounding Jhontu, including his mother, grandmother and sister.

Visually, Animesh Ghorui’s cinematography is vivid and vibrant, complementing the film’s breezy tone. The music—composed by Silajit, Ishan Mitra and B-Show—adds to the energy, with popular numbers reimagined, including “Danda Tudung Tudung” by Silajit and “Shono Go Dokhino Hawa” by Somlata Acharya and Durnibar Saha, alongside “Kata Futese” by B-Show and Rubai.

While the film does stumble at a few plot points—especially as it heads towards the climax, where certain developments feel absurd—strong performances by Sohag Sen, Ipshita Mukherjee and Sohini Sengupta ensure the emotional graph remains steady. Beneath its humour and fantasy, the film attempts to comment on how patriarchy often views feminism through a skewed lens, refusing to acknowledge women’s worth beyond the matrimonial bed.

Despite its imperfections, the film remains engaging, entertaining and self-aware, offering a crowd-pleasing experience that also nudges viewers to reflect upon how women are seen in the society and how much their quiet contributions are ignored because they remain unpaid and unnoticed.