If you’ve ever sat in a sterile waiting room at an immigration office, clutching a folder of documents like it’s your only lifeline, you already know the vibe of For Here or to Go? It isn't just a movie. It’s a 118-minute anxiety attack that somehow manages to be funny, heartbreaking, and deeply frustrating all at once. Released in the mid-2010s but feeling more relevant in 2026 than ever, this indie gem captures the "in-between" life of Indian tech workers in Silicon Valley.
Honestly, most movies about the "American Dream" are full of soaring music and triumph. This one? It’s about the paperwork.
It focuses on Vivek Pandit, a software guy who’s basically a Silicon Valley success story on paper. He’s got a great job offer at a healthcare startup. He’s smart. He’s driven. But then the H-1B visa reality hits. He’s stuck in a loop of bureaucratic nonsense that makes him question if he even belongs in a country he’s helped build.
The H-1B Trap Most People Don't Get
A lot of people think immigration is either "legal" or "illegal." For Here or to Go? exposes the massive, gray middle ground. It’s the "legal" immigration system that feels like a trap.
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Vivek, played with a sort of weary charm by Ali Fazal, represents thousands of real-life workers. These aren't people hiding in the shadows; they are the people designing your apps and managing your databases. Yet, they live their lives in three-year increments. One bad day at the office or a layoff—which we’ve seen plenty of in the tech world lately—means they have 60 days to pack up a decade of life and leave.
The movie highlights the "Golden Handcuffs." You make good money, sure. But you can't start a business. You can't easily switch jobs. You’re basically modern-day indentured talent. The director, Rucha Humnabadkar, and writer, Rishi Bhilawadikar, clearly lived this. You can tell because the details are too specific to be made up. The way characters talk about "Priority Dates" and "Labor Certifications" sounds like a foreign language to outsiders, but it’s the daily bread of the South Asian diaspora in California.
Beyond the Coding: The Human Toll
It isn’t just about the H-1B visa.
It’s about the missed funerals back home. It’s about the awkwardness of dating when you don't know if you'll be in the country in six months. There’s a specific scene where the protagonist is looking at his life—his apartment, his friends—and realizing it’s all temporary.
That’s the "For Here or to Go?" of the title. Is his life meant to be consumed "here" in America, or is it a "to go" order that he’ll eventually take back to India?
The film also explores the generational divide. You have the older immigrants who’ve "made it" but are now cynical, and the younger ones who are still idealistic. Then there’s the character of Amit, who represents the darker side of the struggle—the mental health toll that nobody in the community likes to talk about. The pressure to succeed while the government is actively trying to find a reason to kick you out is a heavy burden. It’s a lot.
Why This Movie Hits Harder in 2026
We’ve seen the headlines. Massive tech layoffs. Shifting immigration policies. The "Reverse Brain Drain" where talent is actually heading back to Bangalore or Hyderabad because they’re tired of the H-1B slog.
When For Here or to Go? first hit the festival circuit around 2015-2017, it felt like a warning. Today, it feels like a documentary. The film doesn't offer easy answers because, frankly, there aren't any. The backlog for green cards for Indian nationals is currently estimated to be decades long. People are literally dying in line.
Seeing Vivek struggle with the choice of staying in a system that doesn't want him or going back to an India that has moved on without him is brutal. It’s a choice many are making right now.
The Realistic Side of Silicon Valley
Forget the HBO show Silicon Valley for a second. That show is a satire about ego and VC money. This movie is the reality of the people actually writing the code.
The cinematography captures that weird Silicon Valley aesthetic: sunny and bright, but also kind of lonely and corporate. The office spaces are bland. The strip malls are familiar. It grounds the high-stakes drama of immigration in the mundane reality of suburban life. You see the "consultancy" firms—sometimes called "body shops"—that exploit the visa system. These aren't the Googles or Apples of the world, but the shady middle-men who hold people’s papers hostage. It’s a gritty look at an industry that usually gets a glossy finish.
Common Misconceptions About the Movie
Some critics at the time thought the film was too "niche." They were wrong. While the specific terminology is about Indian immigrants, the theme is universal. It’s about the desire to belong.
Another misconception is that it’s a "Bollywood" movie. It’s not. There are no random dance numbers in the middle of a visa interview (though that would be a bold creative choice). It’s an American independent film. It has more in common with The Namesake or Minari than it does with a typical Mumbai blockbuster. It’s quiet. It’s observant. It’s frustrated.
Key Takeaways from Vivek's Journey
- Identity isn't tied to a stamp in a passport. The movie argues that "home" is where you contribute and where your community is, even if the law says otherwise.
- The system is broken, not the people. The film goes to great lengths to show that these workers are doing everything right. They pay taxes. They follow the rules. The system just isn't designed to handle them.
- Entrepreneurship is the ultimate hurdle. One of the most heartbreaking parts is seeing brilliant people who want to start companies but can't because their visa forbids it. Imagine how many "Next Big Things" we’ve lost because of a 1990s-era immigration law.
What You Should Do After Watching
If this movie piques your interest or reflects your life, don't just let the credits roll and move on. The conversation around high-skilled immigration is usually dominated by politicians who have no idea how it actually works.
Watch it with someone who isn't in the tech bubble. This is a great "empathy builder." If you have friends or family who think immigration is simple, show them this. It changes the perspective from "policy" to "people."
Check out the actual stats. Look up the current Green Card backlog numbers for EB-2 and EB-3 categories. It’s eye-opening. Organizations like Immigration Voice often cite this film because it puts a face to the data.
Support independent South Asian cinema. Directors like Rucha Humnabadkar are telling stories that the big studios won't touch. These films rely on word-of-mouth. If you liked it, talk about it.
Evaluate your own "For Here or to Go" moment. Even if you aren't an immigrant, the movie asks a poignant question: Are you building a life where you are, or are you just passing through?
The film ends on a note that isn't exactly "happily ever after," but it is honest. It’s about taking agency. Vivek eventually realizes that his worth isn't determined by a visa status. It’s a hard-won lesson, and one that resonates with anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider in their own home.
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The next time you’re at a coffee shop and they ask, "For here or to go?" you might find yourself thinking about more than just a ceramic mug. You’ll think about the millions of people who are still trying to answer that question for their entire lives.
Actionable Steps for Viewers:
- Locate the film: Currently, it's often available on platforms like Prime Video or Apple TV, though availability varies by region.
- Research the "Startup Visa" concept: If the entrepreneurial aspect of the movie frustrated you, look into the ongoing legislative battles for a dedicated visa for founders, which would address many of the issues Vivek faced.
- Follow the creators: Rishi Bhilawadikar continues to write about the intersection of culture and policy; his insights provide a deep "behind-the-scenes" look at why these stories need to be told.