Film Review: Hindi Vindi (2025) - Australia
Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critic Circle of Australia)
I rated it 8.5/10
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Finding the Universal Song Within - Some films announce themselves with a roar; others, like “Hindi Vindi”, arrive with the gentle, insistent pull of a melody you can't quite place but feel deep in your bones. This Indo-Australian collaboration, a vibrant tapestry woven from Bollywood's expressive heart and Australian cinema's keen eye for intimate realism, isn't just a movie about cultural disconnect. It's a profound, often achingly beautiful testament to the human spirit's ability to find harmony where language fails.
The story orbits Kabir (a revelatory Mihir Ahuja), an Australian-Indian teenager adrift in Sydney. He navigates skate parks and school halls with the restless energy of youth, but a crucial piece of his identity feels distant, abstract – his heritage. This abstraction becomes flesh and blood, tradition and quiet expectation, with the arrival of his grandmother, Arya (Neena Gupta**, in a performance of luminous grace), from India. Their reunion is a collision of worlds separated not just by geography, but by a vast, silent ocean of language: Kabir speaks no Hindi, Arya speaks no English.
What follows could have been a sitcom of misunderstandings. Instead, writer-director Ali Sayed crafts something far richer. The "lost in translation" moments are indeed present – some mined for gentle, observational humor, others carrying the sharp sting of unintended hurt and profound loneliness. We witness the frustration of love trapped behind a linguistic wall. Sayed doesn't rush this discomfort; he lets it breathe, allowing us to feel the weight of Kabir's adolescent alienation and Arya's dignified isolation in a foreign land.
The film's brilliance lies in how it discovers the bridge. Music, that most primal and universal language, becomes their shared vocabulary. Kabir, a disgruntled but talented musician, finds his guitar and burgeoning songwriting unexpectedly becoming the conduit to his grandmother's world. Ahuja embodies Kabir's journey with raw, authentic vulnerability. We see the teenage angst, the eye-rolls, the simmering frustration, but also the dawning realization, the tentative steps towards connection. His evolution isn't a grand epiphany, but a quiet awakening, beautifully realized.
Neena Gupta, as Arya, is nothing short of magnificent. She conveys oceans of emotion with the slightest shift of her eyes, a hesitant touch, a posture that speaks of both resilience and vulnerability. The detail of her being a "lesbian ally grandma" isn't a gimmick; it subtly informs her character – a woman who understands otherness, who carries a quiet strength and open-heartedness that transcends the need for shared words. She is the film's unwavering emotional anchor.
Guy Sebastian, stepping into acting as Kabir's father James, brings a grounded, rugged presence. His "deadbeat dad" swagger adds a necessary, slightly destabilizing edge to the family dynamic. While his subplot involving a legal scrape feels somewhat truncated, a minor narrative thread left dangling, Sebastian’s performance effectively sketches a man wrestling with his own failures and responsibilities.
Technically, the film sings. Sayed utilizes Sydney not merely as a backdrop, but as a vibrant, breathing character in Kabir's story. The city's beaches, suburbs, and multicultural bustle feel integral, reflecting his internal landscape. But the true triumph is the soundtrack. The cross-continental collaboration between Bollywood maestros Javed-Mohsin and Guy Sebastian isn't just background; it's narrative propulsion. The lead single "Made of Heart" and, crucially, Kabir's own fusion rap creation aren't musical interludes – they are the emotional climaxes, the articulated heartbeats of characters finding their "boli" (voice) when words are insufficient. This music is the dialogue of their souls.
“Hindi Vindi” earns its marks not through bombast or forced sentiment, but through its unwavering commitment to emotional truth. It wisely avoids the trap of "chest-thumping nationalism." Heritage, it argues beautifully, isn't a rigid set of rules to be enforced, nor a costume to be worn. It’s a living, breathing essence discovered through shared experience, through expression, and ultimately, through the simple, profound act of love trying to make itself understood. It’s a film that speaks volumes, often in the most tender silence. (Neo, 2025)