Ask the stars of
Love in Slow Motion to describe the film in one word and their answers immediately reveal why Netflix’s new Arabic romantic comedy feels so relatable. For Nour Al Ghandour, who plays Haya, it is simply “
love.” For Noha Nabil, who steps into the role of Zeina, it is “chaos.” Between those two words unfolds a story that asks a timeless question: what if the person you have been looking for has been beside you all along, only for you to realize it when it is almost too late?
Premiering globally on Netflix on July 23, Love in Slow Motion follows Haya and Jawad, played by Ali Kakooli, two inseparable friends whose relationship has remained comfortably undefined for years. Just as Haya finally decides she is ready to confess her feelings, Jawad unexpectedly announces his engagement to Zeina, a successful and confident actress. The revelation turns Haya’s world upside down, forcing her to confront emotions she had never fully acknowledged. What follows is a chaotic journey of awkward encounters, misguided plans, and heartfelt moments as she tries to win back the man she now realizes she has loved all along. Alongside her are her sister Dalal and her aunt, both convinced that Jawad is the right man for her, while her loyal chimpanzee companion, Cuba, accompanies her through every emotional twist. It is a story about timing as much as it is about love, and one that naturally raises the question of whether the strongest romances sometimes begin as friendships.
It is a question Noha Nabil answers without hesitation. “I really believe that friendship can turn into a successful romantic relationship,” she says. “I think it’s easier and better than starting with marriage and then becoming friends afterward.” Al Ghandour, however, sees it a little differently. Friendship, she believes, can certainly strengthen a relationship, but it is not necessarily enough on its own. “Not necessarily the foundation,” she explains, “but it can help. It depends on how well they know each other and on the things they’ve already built together, trust, respect, love, and understanding. So, fifty-fifty.” Their different perspectives mirror the emotional tension running through the film itself, where years of familiarity leave Haya questioning whether she has mistaken love for friendship, or simply recognized it too late.
That hesitation extends beyond Haya. If her journey is about admitting what she feels, Jawad’s is about finding the courage to say what he wants. Asked what they would change about his character, both actresses point to the same flaw, his reluctance to express himself directly. Nabil wishes he were “a little braver when facing situations, and braver in expressing his feelings,” while Al Ghandour believes he spent too much time searching for indirect ways to reach Haya instead of simply being honest.
“He wasn’t persistent in saying what he wanted,” she says. “He resorted to other ways to reach her. I think if he had been that strong character who holds her and tells her, ‘One plus one is two.'” It is an observation that fits neatly into one of the film’s central themes. Love in Slow Motion repeatedly returns to tenderness and emotional openness, asking whether expressing vulnerability has become more difficult in an age of constant distraction.
Neither actress believes those qualities have disappeared. Nabil remains optimistic, even if she thinks they have become less common. “They’re rare, but they exist,” she says. “I’m always optimistic that there’s still love and tenderness, and there always will be. It depends on what you focus on, you’ll find it.”
Al Ghandour agrees. “I think they still exist, but maybe they’re not as visible or as openly expressed,” she says. “We’re living in a fast-paced era of social media, and some people have started living lives that aren’t real just to impress others. I think these qualities still exist, but they’re less common than before.” The observation feels particularly relevant in a film where Haya documents her emotional rollercoaster through personal video diaries, sharing her most spontaneous moments and emotional highs and lows with the camera. While the film embraces that digital intimacy, the actresses themselves admit they approach modern dating rather differently.
Nabil’s biggest relationship red flag is someone who is constantly online. Laughing, she says, “If he has social media accounts, why is he online? He doesn’t need to be online. He should give me his business card, not his Instagram, because I like mystery.” Unsurprisingly, her biggest green flag follows the same logic. “When he gives me his business card and says, ‘Call me.'”
Al Ghandour’s answer is rather different. Asked whether filming TikToks or calling someone “bro” is the bigger red flag, she immediately picks TikTok. As for being called “bro,” she laughs. “It’s not a red flag, but it’s definitely not acceptable.” What she values instead is far less complicated. “Safety, emotional support, sharing, accepting each other’s ideas and opinions, and support.”
Even in the middle of heartbreak, Love in Slow Motion never loses its sense of humour, much of it thanks to Cuba, Haya’s loyal chimpanzee companion. Off screen, he also became one of the production’s most memorable cast members, although the two actresses remember him very differently.
For Al Ghandour, filming with Cuba was “one of the best things on set,” despite one unforgettable moment when, while filming a diaper changing scene, “I suddenly found his leg in my face. He shocked me with his leg, and I don’t know why he suddenly got angry. Maybe he was shy or wasn’t used to me. Then he got used to it. He slapped me with his leg, that’s what I remember.”
Nabil, meanwhile, admits they never quite became friends. “From the very first day, Cuba and I were not on good terms,” she says. “I was actually scared of him from the first day.” Their first planned scene together was eventually abandoned after Cuba became tired and sleepy, prompting the production to change its plans. Looking back, she can only laugh. “He naturally doesn’t like me. Even before he knew the story of the film, he didn’t like me.”
Like its leading women, Love in Slow Motion refuses to settle on a single definition of love. It is a film where friendship can become love, or perhaps remain friendship. Where timing can matter as much as emotion. Where saying what you feel proves harder than feeling it in the first place. Whether audiences leave thinking of it as a story about love or one about chaos may depend entirely on which of its two stars they agree with most.