Another ‘rockstar’ ki ‘aashiqui’ – Beyond Bollywood

Mohit Suri’s directorial also draws parallels with the Korean film A Moment to Remember (2004). The Hindi film, however, is guilty of exploiting a serious condition in the name of art and romantic fantasy. Debutant Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda are the heartbeat of this otherwise silly musical.

Rating: ⭐️⭐️ ( 2 / 5)

By Mayur Lookhar

Yash Raj Films’ Saiyaara (2025) has been courting attention both before and after its release – this time, though, for different reasons. The box office is a debate for another day; this article is all about critiquing the film.

Helmed by Mohit Suri, Saiyaara marks the debut of Ahaan Panday, the nephew of seasoned actor Chunky Pandey.  Then there is young Aneet Padda, who is in just her second film.

Story

Well, we’ll come to the story later, but the early scenes are intriguing. After being left distraught when her boyfriend walked out at the last minute before their court marriage, Vaani Batra (Padda) has taken six months to emerge from that depressive phase. She is now on her way to a job interview at a media firm when a rash biker speeds past her. As fate would have it, this arrogant man is heading to the same place.

He bumps into Vaani and hands her the diary she had accidentally dropped from her bag. The man then heads to the editorial department, where he calls out a journalist. This scribe bears a slight resemblance to Arnab Goswami, but with the mannerisms of an Orry – no disrespect intended. Moments later, we see the young man landing punches on the journalist, accusing him of promoting nepotism and overlooking genuine talent like him. While reviewing a song, the journalist had lavished praise only on the influential member of the band, completely ignoring the lead singer and writer, Krish Kapoor (Ahaan Panday).

Okay, someone is calling out nepotism on screen. But the irony is that the one taking action is himself a product of nepotism. We don’t know how much bromance there is between seasoned actor Chunky Pandey and his brother Chikki, but going by the gossip around Saiyaara, its [advance booking] push suggests there’s strong backing behind the film. The irony deepens with the fact that director Mohit Suri is also an industry insider. And producing Saiyaara is Yash Raj Films, which lately seems to be serving as a launch pad for nepo kids.  

These insiders criticizing nepotism feels hollow and only reminds us of that cringeworthy ‘nepotism rocks’ moment when Saif Ali Khan, Karan Johar, and Varun Dhawan shared the stage and made jokes that backfired spectacularly.

As for the story, it’s another romantic musical. Boy meets girl, the two artists bond over work, and soon fall in love. The conflict arises in the form of a medical condition, raising valid concerns about the future of this singer-lyricist relationship.

Screenplay and Direction

Well, isn’t this one of those done-to-death ‘rockstar ki aashiqui’ stories? The comparisons don’t end there. The internet is already buzzing with speculation that Mohit Suri may have drawn inspiration from the Korean film A Moment to Remember (2004), which itself was based on the Japanese TV drama Pure Soul: Even If You Forget Me (2001).

It’s not just about nepotism, Saiyaara also sheds light on the struggles of outsider musicians in the Indian entertainment industry, where legacy studios, corporates often call the shots. Humble writers, singers, and composers are frequently denied their due, while the influential and powerful take all the credit. It seems Suri and his writers, Sankalp Sadanah and Rohan Shankar, are pointing fingers at big music labels. But here’s the double irony: Suri himself has collaborated with the biggest music label in the country for many of his musicals. Moreover, quite a few of his films have been marred by plagiarism controversies. So, a Mohit Suri film calling out favouritism and plagiarism doesn’t quite cut any ice.

For the record, this medical condition has been portrayed in several gripping international films most notably in the brilliant French film Amour (2012), and the critically acclaimed Still Alice (2014). Though there is a rare possibility of young individuals developing it, Suri loses sight of the fact that such cases are usually genetic. He cites an example of a similar case in China.

It seems Suri and his writers haven’t gone beyond a basic Google search to understand the magnitude of this condition. Worse, they are guilty of insensitivity in their portrayal. Medical professionals are the best judges, but the way the doctor tests Vaani feels more like a judge reading out a black warrant.

Then how is one expected to digest that Vaani can recall only selective memories? Your leading actress may be gorgeous and glamorous, but showcasing a woman’s hips and legs on a hospital bed just doesn’t feel right. The biggest farce, however, comes in the climax – where a game of cricket miraculously helps Vaani remember Krish. Suri is clearly using the condition as a tool to extract sympathy, but the insensitivity he shows in portraying the illness is deeply disappointing.

No original story, a disappointing and insensitive screenplay, the only thing that might be original here is the character Mahesh Iyer, Vaani’s former boyfriend. And he is one no one wants to see.

Acting

There is nothing in the story or screenplay that will appeal to the discerning viewer. The only thing that keeps the audience even mildly engaged is the impressive performance by the two protagonists. The bad boy Krish isn’t likable at first, and Panday tends to ham it up during his angry outbursts. With his long hair, brooding face, and loud yelling, he comes off like a clothed Tarzan throwing a tantrum. However, Panday comes into his own once the Krish–Vaani relationship begins to blossom. He doesn’t exactly turn into a gentleman, but he does make an effort to put the girl at ease. What further elevates their performances is the effortless chemistry between Panday and Padda, bringing an emotional authenticity to their bond.

Unlike many nepo kids, debutant Panday doesn’t arrive underprepared – he backs his screen presence with the right intensity and temperament for the character. He’s particularly impressive in the quieter, more restrained moments, doing well to reflect the internal feelings of his character.

During his Wembley concert, he spots Vaani on camera. His restrained joy, the quiet tears, no words spoken – simply brilliant. Perhaps Krish is the kind of man who feels most numb in moments of overwhelming joy. Earlier, in Goa, he is bewildered by the massive crowd surrounding the band’s bus. With no space to even step out, he climbs out of the van window and onto the roof, where his bandmate tells him that his song has gone viral, making him an overnight sensation. No words, no emotional overflow just a stunned expression. We give all our blood and sweat to achieve something, and when that moment finally arrives, how often are we left speechless?

Krish is temperamental, but Vaani is like a calm sea, absorbing everything that comes her way. Sure, this is a film, but Vaani gives the impression of someone carrying deep emotional scars. Given the reason for her depression, it stretches belief as to why she would continue to write poetry after having torn out most of the pages six months ago. Saiyaara is described as the lone star that wanders off and shines on its own. In every sense, Padda’s Vaani is that saiyaara. She has a tremendous screen presence, but that comes second to her sparkling talent. Playing such a complex character at her age is a tricky task, and Padda pulls it off with flying colours. More than her words, it’s her silence that speaks volumes. Padda had impressed in her debut film Salaam Venky, where she played the visually impaired love interest of Venky. And with this virtuoso performance in Saiyaara, she truly announces her arrival on the big stage.

Though his screen time is limited, Varun Badola impresses as Ashok Kapoor, the alcoholic and emotionally broken father of Krish. Rajesh Kumar and Geeta Agrawal also leave a mark as Vaani’s supportive parents. However, given the conservative middle-class backdrop, and the emotional scars left by her previous failed relationship, one is a bit intrigued by how comfortably Vaani embraces intimacy with Krish. To be clear, this isn’t a judgment, merely an observation.

Music & Technical Aspects

Krish Kapoor’s rants are directed at music labels and big composers, so naturally, a film like this ought to feature great playback music. During one of his outbursts, Krish laments how today’s hit songs are likely to be forgotten within four months. Perhaps the true test of Saiyaara’s music will come then. While Mithoon-penned Dhun and Irshad Kamil’s Humsafar are decent tracks, the rest barely make an impression. Interestingly, the film also complains about the needless insertion of rap into Bollywood melodies. Ironically, one of Saiyaara’s composers is Tanishk Bagchi, who is often associated with that trend. The one artist who truly makes a mark with Saiyaara is Kashmiri musician Faheem Abdullah with his title track.

The film’s background score by John Stewart Eduri is consistently effective, and Vikas Sivaraman’s cinematography stands out for its emotional resonance and visual flair.

Final word

Let’s not take anything away from the gigantic success this film has seen in its first two days  – quite surprising for a film with no stars. But there’s no denying that this is yet another Bollywood offering that seems to leverage pain and a medical condition for emotional manipulation. We’d never wish such suffering upon anyone or any family, but it’s high time filmmakers like Mohit Suri – and Bollywood at large – approached sensitive subjects with more responsibility and depth.

Watch the video review below.