Film, in its most powerful form, isn’t about spectacle but emotion. Love in Vietnam, written and directed by Rahhat Shah Kazmi, is one such bittersweet reminder. It won’t settle for telling a love story; it takes the risk of asking what it is when love is not a possession but a remembrance, less about being one’s first and more about being one’s last.
The Story
Ultimately, Love in Vietnam is a story of three lives—Manav (Shantanu Maheshwari), Simmi (Avneet Kaur), and Lin (Kha Ngan). Manav and Simmi, childhood sweethearts, have an innocence so real that it’s lived-in. Life, though, separates Manav to Vietnam with his uncle (Raj Babbar) keeping watch. And there, while flipping through a photo album, he sees a snap of Lin, and in that moment of fragility and transience, falls in love with the mere notion of her.
Is Lin real, or is she a dream? The movie doesn’t rush to tell us. Rather, it lets Manav’s desire become our own. As he shifts between the familiarity of Simmi and the mystery of Lin, the story evolves into a consideration of longing itself.
What Works
Rahhat Kazmi sets his tale with the kind of honesty you don’t find in Hindi romances anymore. There is no frivolity, no gimmickry that’s passed off as feeling. We are presented with silences, looks, and pauses—cinematic punctuation marks that can say more than words.
A scene in which Manav and Lin slide into an unplanned dance step as they walk around the lake is pure magic—life reclaiming itself in the gentlest of gestures.
As Simmi, heartbroken by Manav’s fragility, sweeps him away in silence, her anguish is transferred to the audience.
A Vietnamese woman queries, “Why are you searching for her?” Manav’s direct response—”Because I love her”—strikes like a silent lightning bolt.
The cinematography lingers lovingly over Vietnam’s lakes, alleys, and marketplaces, turning the country into more than a backdrop—it becomes a character, a witness to a love story that is both fragile and resilient. The music, meanwhile, doesn’t just accompany the film; it breathes with it. Jeena Nahi devastates, Pehli Nazar rekindles forgotten stirrings, I’m Ready delights with its celebratory warmth, and Bade Din Hue soothes like a familiar caress.
Performances
Shantanu Maheshwari is a discovery. All restraint and internalization in his performance—he conveys Manav’s longing without spelling it out. In a role that had the potential to slip into melodrama, he takes the truth.
Avneet Kaur bursts in the second half like an emotional tempest. Her vulnerability, her empathy, and her understated heartbreak give the film its soul.
Kha Ngan is radiant, mysterious, and nearly ethereal. She brings an air of mystery and sadness in perfect balance.
The veterans—Raj Babbar, Gulshan Grover, Farida Jalal—bring gravity, grounding the film with maturity and experience.
Weaknesses
It is not all smooth sailing. The opening act moves too fast, as if in a hurry to establish the Vietnam trajectory. Some of the dialogue comes across as too explanatory, taking away from the organic flow of scenes. A couple of choreographed sequences, too, fall short. But those are nits in a movie that otherwise keeps you emotionally captivated.
The Bigger Picture
In an age where “romance” in Hindi films tends to get diluted—either doled out as frothy comedy or packaged as shallow spectacle—Love in Vietnam is like an antidote. It looks back to the days when filmmakers such as Mahesh Bhatt, in his Arth and Saaraansh period, employed love stories as a means of exploring greater truths about life and desire.
Rahhat Kazmi, in his adaptation of a Turkish novel, reworks it as an Indo-Vietnamese tapestry. The film, thereby, bridges borders not only geographically but emotionally as well. It postulates that love, memory, and loss are universal emotions which do not require any translation.
Verdict
Love in Vietnam is not a flawless film—but it is an honest one. Its imperfections don’t diminish its impact; if anything, they make it more human. It’s rare today to come across a Hindi film that doesn’t scream for your attention but quietly, patiently earns it.
This is a movie about memory, about loss, about the sort of love that doesn’t necessarily end in matrimony but still marks a life. For all those who have loved and lost—or even for those still looking—it will linger after, an ache, and perhaps, just perhaps, a little hope. A haunting, heartwarming romance which once again makes you believe that Hindi cinema has space for truthfulness.
Rating: 3 stars.
