In the dependable space of Bollywood romantic dramas where love’s ups and downs are magnified through soulful music and tear-jerking twists, Mohit Suri’s Saiyaara comes as a nostalgic throwback with fresh faces. Releasing on July 18, 2025, this 156 minute musical romance marks the debut of Ahaan Panday (cousin of Ananya Panday) as the musician Krish and Aneet Padda as the poet Vaani Batra. Produced by Yash Raj Films with a neat and tidy finish, the film has already got impressive advance bookings and has grossed over ₹275 crore in India in the second week. So heartfelt storytelling and viral tracks can still work without A-list hype. Directed by Suri who is known for his emotional thrill rides like Aashiqui 2, Saiyaara promises a symphony of young love—but does it harmonize clichés into something beautiful, or does it fade into familiarity?
At its core, Saiyaara is the story of the intoxicating rush of first love amidst creative sparks and heartbreak. Krish, a brooding singer-songwriter navigating the cutthroat Mumbai music scene stumbles upon Vaani’s raw poetry at a dimly lit café. Drawn to her unfiltered words, he ropes her into writing lyrics for his indie tracks and soon their collaboration turns into passion. As their bond grows through late night jam sessions and stolen glances external pressures – family expectations, career rivalries and a twist involving loss and redemption – threaten to break them apart. Like Laila Majnu or Shiddat, the story explores the theme of eternal emotions vs fleeting trends with music as the ultimate balm for the soul. It’s a predictable story but emotionally resonant, especially when it comes to Gen Z romance – impulsive, Instagram filtered and real.
Ahaan Panday makes a strong case for nepotism done right; he brings to Krish a brooding intensity that’s both a vulnerable crooner and a defiant dreamer. His screen presence – soulful eyes and guitar strumming ease – carries the film’s lighter moments, especially in a recording studio duet that crackles with chemistry. Aneet Padda is a discovery; she commands Vaani with a dainty yet fierce aura, her emotional monologues on love’s permanence hit like poetic punches. Their on-screen chemistry is the film’s lifeline, a slow burn that becomes a fire that makes every glance feel electric. The supporting cast adds depth: Sunidhi Chauhan brings gravity as Krish’s no-nonsense mentor, while cameos from industry veterans like Shankar Mahadevan add authenticity to the music world scenes. Dialogues are sharp in romantic banter (“Love isn’t a trend; it’s the rhythm that outlasts the beat”), but falter in the second half’s melodrama but the leads’ sincerity keeps it afloat.
Mohit Suri’s direction is all about the senses, and Saiyaara is a visual and aural treat. Vikas Sivaraman’s cinematography drenches Mumbai’s nights and hill stations in a warm golden light, like infatuation. The editing by Shree Narayan is in rhythm in the first half, cutting to the beat of the budding romance, but falters post interval with long flashbacks that slow down the pace. Production design captures the indie music vibe – cluttered studios, graffiti walls and rain soaked streets – with understated cool. But it’s the music that makes Saiyaara a must watch. Composed by a new team of composers including Amaal Mallik and duo Vishal-Shekhar, the soundtrack is a musical masterpiece: Saiyaara is raw and yearning, Dhun is folk infused longing and Humsafar is a ballad that lingers like a half forgotten dream. These are not just songs, they are emotional anchors, with lyrics that explore the fragility of connection in a swipe right world.
But for all its sweet melodies, Saiyaara falters on the genre’s pitfalls. The plot follows well trodden paths—miscommunications, sacrificial separations and a third act redemption that feels more contrived than cathartic—without the bold subversions that would set it apart from Suri’s own filmography. The second half gets overwrought, with dementia-tinged drama that’s poignant but underdeveloped, bordering on exploitative. Critics have called it overhyped, saying it’s an “unreal story” and repetitive, while fans are calling it a “soulful, heartfelt” comeback. At a U/A rating, it’s teen friendly with mild intensity, but the runtime tests patience, rewards romantics and alienates those looking for something new. Box office aside, it’s no Aashiqui 2—more a 6.5/10 on IMDb—that’s good for debutants but settles for familiar clichés.
In the end, Saiyaara is a sweet love letter to the messiness of young hearts, with impressive newcomers and a soundtrack that’ll be on your playlists for months to come. Mohit Suri is back and the film is visually stunning and emotionally sticky even if it doesn’t break any new ground in the romance department. Stream it on Netflix from September 12, 2025 for those cozy nights when you want feels over fireworks. For star-crossed souls and melody lovers, it’s a good serenade; for cynics, just play the OST and call it a day. In a cinema starved of real sparks, Saiyaara whispers: love may be clichéd but damn it still sings.