🎬 Review: Saiyaara
Rating: ★★★☆☆ (3/5)
Tagline: “Love doesn’t heal you. It reveals who you are.”
In Saiyaara, director Mohit Suri returns to his comfort zone—heartbreak, longing, and the redemptive power of love—but this time with two new faces carrying the emotional weight. The result is a visually lush, musically rich, but narratively uneven film that lands halfway between Aashiqui 2 and Ek Villain, both tonally and thematically.
🌟 Performances: Raw but Promising
Ahaan Panday, in his debut, surprises with restraint rather than flamboyance. His character, Krish, is an aspiring musician battling guilt, grief, and a past mistake that haunts him more than the script explores. Ahaan’s biggest strength isn’t dialogue delivery, but the way he listens on screen—absorbing pain rather than projecting it. It’s a quiet intensity.
Aneet Padda, as Zara, is the emotional pulse of the film. She portrays vulnerability without falling into fragility, and her handling of an illness subplot is delicately human—not manipulative. She doesn’t beg for sympathy, she earns empathy. Their chemistry isn’t sizzling—it’s aching. And in a film like this, that works.
🎵 Music: A Character of Its Own
The soundtrack is Saiyaara’s soul. The title track—clearly designed to be the next breakup anthem—is both haunting and oddly hopeful. Songs are used to progress emotional arcs, not just decorate scenes. However, one wishes the background score would occasionally let silence speak; it can be emotionally overwhelming.
🧩 Story & Direction: Familiar But Sincere
The narrative sticks closely to the well-worn Mohit Suri formula: love, trauma, redemption, and tragedy. There are predictable beats—a hospital visit, a rainy breakdown, a misunderstood sacrifice—but the sincerity with which they’re executed gives them some freshness.
What holds the film back is its inconsistency in pacing and emotional depth. Side characters are paper-thin. Dialogues veer from poetic to preachy. And though the themes of grief, forgiveness, and healing are worthy, the screenplay treats them more as checkpoints than revelations.
🎭 What Works:
- Strong, emotionally invested debut performances.
- Music that amplifies inner turmoil rather than masking it.
- A grounded take on love that isn’t fairy tale—it’s flawed and raw.
⚠️ What Doesn’t:
- Overreliance on genre tropes.
- Emotional manipulation instead of natural character evolution.
- A few forced dramatic turns that undercut the film’s sincerity.
💬 Final Verdict:
Saiyaara isn’t a groundbreaking film—but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a tender, melancholic romance with two newcomers who feel like they’ve lived their roles. While the story might not stay with you forever, some moments—especially those wrapped in silence and music—will linger like an echo.
Watch it if you’re a fan of Suri’s previous works, emotionally driven soundtracks, and new talent making heartfelt debuts.
Skip it if you crave innovation over emotion or subtlety over sentiment.