'Saiyaara' Review: Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda Deliver Fireworks in Mohit Suri’s Emotional Comeback

Mohit Suri Relearns His Language of Love

The greatest strength of Mohit Suri has always been his ability to take fractured characters and make them sing. Not metaphorically, but emotionally. In Saiyaara, he returns to this rhythm with clarity and care. There is no grandeur. There is intimacy. The story begins with pain, not passion. Vani is reeling from heartbreak. Krish is flailing through life, a talented musician surrounded by chaos and self-sabotage.

Their meeting does not ignite sparks. It scrapes. And it is this scraping that eventually softens both of them. The film moves slowly, refusing to rush feelings. Krish’s temper, his resentment, his defensiveness are all allowed to exist without justification. But so is his quiet need for something real. Suri does not craft a perfect man. He crafts a believable one. And Vani, equally bruised but far more composed, brings her own set of emotional puzzles. Together, they do not complete each other. They learn how to stop running from themselves.

Not Your Typical Gen Z Love Story

One of the greatest joys of Saiyaara is that it never tries to dumb itself down. Yes, it is about young love. Yes, it is set in the now. But it never indulges in hollow trends or cringe-worthy one-liners. The story is rooted in character and unfolds in spaces that feel familiar. Cafes, rehearsal rooms, street corners and lonely balconies. The conversations are awkward, layered and deeply sincere.

Even the subplots that revolve around music and media do not drift into fantasy. Krish does not become an overnight viral sensation. Vani does not land some flashy job that demands no work. Their wins are small. Their losses are sharp. And the big twist — which I will not spoil — only elevates the emotional stakes. It does not pivot the genre or flip the film into thriller mode. It simply becomes a new question the love story has to answer.

What helps here is that Suri keeps the world small and the focus sharp. The band scenes, the messy recording studio, the banter between friends — all of it adds colour without pulling attention away from what matters. This is still very much Krish and Vani’s story. And it stays that way till the final frame.

Music that Breathes with the Film

If there is one thing Mohit Suri almost always gets right, it is music. And here, he curates one of his most emotionally functional soundtracks in recent memory. The songs are not decorative. They are storytelling devices. They carry weight and subtext. Each track arrives exactly when it needs to, never too early, never too loud.

A soft acoustic track plays during one of Krish’s emotional turning points and suddenly his pain becomes yours. Later, a nearly wordless scene plays out between Krish and Vani. No dramatic dialogue. No big gestures. Just two people listening to the same tune from different rooms. That scene is devastating in the best way. The film also uses silence with impressive restraint. Sometimes the lack of music hits even harder than the song that just ended.

The lyrics are thoughtful. The compositions stay with you. And even if the album is not chartbuster material, it is a crucial part of the emotional DNA of the film. Some songs might hit you harder than others as is the case with any and every romantic soundtrack but the one thing that overrides everything else is that they lend near-perfect assistance to the entire saga along with breathtaking background score as well.

Two Newcomers Who Feel Lived In

Casting newcomers in a romantic drama is a gamble. It can feel like a branding exercise if the performances are overly manicured. Thankfully, Saiyaara dodges this trap with ease. Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda do not perform like debutants. They feel like people who have been these characters for years.

Ahaan is raw and unpredictable as Krish. He gives the character a jagged emotional rhythm. You never quite know what he will do next but you always understand why. There is a scene where Krish, frustrated with the industry, delivers a takedown of nepotism and misplaced fame. It is biting, ironic and incredibly self-aware considering the surname he carries. That level of tonal balance is hard to pull off and Ahaan does it without flinching.

Aneet Padda as Vani is a revelation. Her performance is all about control. She never plays her strength loudly but you feel it in every look. Every line she delivers comes with a double edge — part humour, part insight. When she critiques media toxicity and journalism’s moral confusion, it lands like a soft slap. She is sharp, still and scarily watchable. Together, Ahaan and Aneet build chemistry that is equal parts tension and tenderness.

Apart from them, the supporting cast do a good job as well where the standouts are Shaan Grover, technically the main antagonist in the story, who does well to make you hate him so much that you detest his presence. Alam Khan is also great providing comic relief and also good breather moments.

Feelings Over Flaws

Every film has flaws and Saiyaara is no exception. There are moments that could be trimmed. Some characters who serve a single function and then fade. A subplot or two that flirt with repetition. But none of that truly derails the experience. Because what Saiyaara achieves is far more difficult than tight plotting. It makes you feel.

This is not a love story where grand gestures solve everything. It is not a story where trauma is romanticised or passion is confused for pain. This is a love story where people talk. Where silences carry meaning. Where hurt is not performative but rooted in history. And where growth is not a montage but a messy slow burn.

Most importantly, this is a film that believes in emotional consequences. There is a deep moral integrity to how the characters evolve. Krish’s final arc, which sees him take real accountability for his behaviour, is one of the most powerful character resolutions in recent romantic dramas. It never feels forced. It feels earned.

The Final Word

With Saiyaara, Mohit Suri has not just made a film. He has made a statement. That love stories still matter. That feelings still matter. That sincerity, when crafted with care, will always outlast spectacle. He has made a film that reminds you of his earliest strengths but also shows how much he has grown as a storyteller.

In Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda, he has found collaborators who understand what it means to be emotionally naked on screen. They are not chasing charm. They are chasing truth. And they have found it.

This is a near-perfect film. And it is a true one. And in the world of romantic cinema, that is a lot rarer than it should be.

Are you planning to watch Saiyaara this weekend? Let us know in the comments below.