
2023 · Yandy Laurens
For a date night when you want a romance with a brain, or a solo evening when you want to laugh and then get quietly wrecked. Comforting in shape, surprising in depth.
Bagus, a screenwriter, reunites with Hana, his high-school friend and old crush, who is still grieving her late husband. He decides to win her over the only way he knows how: by pitching a black-and-white romance about his own courtship of her — and the film you're watching keeps folding into the film he's writing, scenes revised before your eyes as he begins to actually understand her grief.
Witty and inventive at first — fourth-wall breaks, arguments with producers, scenes rewritten mid-stream — and then unexpectedly moving, as the games give way to a real meditation on mourning and how long love is supposed to wait. It's the rare clever film that gets warmer the cleverer it gets.
Ringgo Agus Rahman and Nirina Zubir carry the film's tricky tonal balance — he all hopeful scheming, she holding a grief the script keeps having to make room for.
Yandy Laurens shoots in elegant monochrome and builds the whole film as a story arguing with its own storyteller — every structural trick serves the question of whether life should imitate the movies at all. The screenplay's nested revisions are precision-engineered but never cold. A film about filmmaking that plays like a love letter.
It swept Indonesia's Citra Awards and established Laurens as one of the most formally playful new voices in Southeast Asian cinema.
Reception & legacy: how Falling in Love Like in Movies was received, argued over, and remembered →
A screenwriter pitches a black-and-white romance about his own real-life attempt to court a widowed high-school friend — and the film we're watching keeps folding into the film he's writing, scenes revised before our eyes as his understanding of her grief deepens. Yandy Laurens, who cut his teeth in Indonesian television and short-form work, emerged here as one of the most formally playful voices in Southeast Asian cinema, and the film swept Indonesia's Citra Awards. The metafiction is Kaufman-adjacent but never cold: every structural game — the monochrome frame, the interruptions, the arguments with producers about how love stories are supposed to end — serves a tender inquiry into whether life should imitate movies at all, or whether mourning has its own unfilmable tempo. Ringgo Agus Rahman and Nirina Zubir play the leads with a lived-in wariness that keeps sentimentality at bay. Its central question is disarmingly practical: what does it mean to write a happy ending for someone who hasn't finished grieving the last one?
Lines of influence