Director: Mohit Suri
Rating: ***
After two decades in the industry, director Mohit Suri brings Saiyaara to the screen—a romantic drama that treads familiar emotional ground. Featuring debutants Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda in lead roles, the film attempts to retell the classic tale of passionate, broken souls finding solace in each other. Suri, known for emotionally intense films like Aashiqui 2 and Ek Villain, doesn't stray far from his comfort zone. If anything, Saiyaara reiterates his cinematic voice—one rooted in anguish, love, and longing.
Despite limited promotional buzz, Saiyaara has drawn attention for its thematic and visual parallels with Suri's earlier work, as well as Rockstar and Kabir Singh. But beneath these comparisons lies a film that is earnest, emotionally raw, and—at times—deeply flawed.
Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda’s Debut: Passionate Yet Rough Around the Edges
Ahaan Panday plays Krish, a volatile young man with a short fuse and a haunted past. His first appearance—stylized and shrouded in intensity—immediately signals the kind of emotionally unhinged character we’re about to follow. Panday’s portrayal leans heavily on rage and vulnerability. While his initial performance lacks finesse, his growth in the latter half of the film feels more authentic. It’s when the character’s aggression is toned down that Panday begins to shine, revealing sincerity and depth beneath the storm.
Aneet Padda, as Vaani, serves as the emotional anchor of the narrative. She portrays a soft-spoken yet firm woman with unbending principles: no late nights, no smoking, no swearing. Despite her delicate exterior, Vaani is resolute—perhaps even more stubborn than Krish. Padda plays her with an understated conviction, especially once the layers of her character begin to unfold. While Vaani initially seems too angelic to be believable, her eventual backstory gives her actions weight, and Padda’s subtle performance leaves a lasting impression.
Suri’s Signature Style: Emotion-Driven, Music-Backed, and A Bit Melancholic
As with most of Mohit Suri's films, Saiyaara is drenched in emotion. It opens with heartbreak and maintains a tone of melancholy throughout. The visual language is rich with slow-motion shots, moody lighting, and intense close-ups—reminiscent of Malang and Aashiqui 2. Suri’s understanding of music as a narrative tool is once again on full display. The haunting title track is a standout and arguably the emotional core of the film, even if the rest of the soundtrack doesn’t quite match the highs of his previous works.
What also remains consistent is Suri’s focus on female characters. Vaani may appear fragile, but she is written with agency and depth—traits often underdeveloped in romantic dramas. She isn’t a passive muse; she influences the story and demands respect. This thoughtful representation is one of the film’s quiet triumphs.
Tropes, Ironies, and a Dash of Meta Commentary
Saiyaara doesn’t shy away from self-referential irony. A particularly striking scene sees Krish lashing out at a journalist over nepotism—a meta moment, given Ahaan Panday’s real-life Bollywood lineage. Whether this commentary is deliberate or accidental is unclear, but it certainly provokes a smirk. However, this also exemplifies Suri’s storytelling habit of flirting with bold statements without fully committing to them.
The film is largely humorless, though it squeezes in a few clever moments—one joke about someone’s master’s degree stands out. Yet, the overwhelming mood is intense and brooding, sometimes to a fault. For much of the first hour, neither lead cracks a smile, and the emotional weight threatens to become monotonous.
Narrative Hiccups and Missed Opportunities
Despite strong thematic potential, Saiyaara struggles with coherence and pacing. The love story, while heartfelt, feels rushed in parts and stretched in others. Montages of opposites-attract moments skim the surface without diving into deeper emotional truths. Krish’s sudden rise to fame is unconvincing, and a subplot involving Vaani’s past relationship feels undercooked and erratic.
These flaws prevent the film from establishing a unique identity. Visually and emotionally, it echoes other romantic tragedies without carving out its own distinctive voice. There are shades of U Me Aur Hum in its emotional unraveling, but it stops short of offering anything truly unexpected.
Sincerity Over Spectacle: The Film’s Biggest Strength
In the end, Saiyaara is held together by the sincerity of its newcomers and the emotional conviction of its filmmaker. Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda surrender to Mohit Suri’s vision, navigating the emotional turbulence with surprising dedication. While their performances aren’t perfect, their commitment adds a layer of rawness and authenticity.
The film may lack polish in some areas, but its core—an exploration of imperfect love—is moving. The imperfections in its storytelling mirror the flaws in its characters, perhaps intentionally. Because real love, as Saiyaara reminds us, is never clean or easy.
Final Verdict: Saiyaara’s Bittersweet Symphony
Saiyaara isn’t a revolutionary love story. It walks a well-trodden path, borrowing heavily from its predecessors, and occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own melodrama. But it also wears its heart on its sleeve, offering moments of genuine emotional resonance. If you’re willing to look past the inconsistencies, you’ll find a film that’s imperfect but deeply heartfelt.
Strengths:
A sincere effort by debutants
A haunting and effective title track
Emotional depth in female characterization
Mohit Suri’s atmospheric direction
Weaknesses:
Predictable narrative arc
Inconsistent pacing and editing
Over-reliance on familiar tropes
Saiyaara may not redefine the genre, but it reaffirms that flawed love stories, when told with honesty, can still strike a chord.
