Lasyapriya Sundaram (BOMBAY TIMES; November 27, 2017)

This year, Konkona Sen Sharma made her directorial debut with the much-acclaimed film, A Death In The Gunj. The National Award-winning actress also impressed with her role in one of the most controversial films of the year, Lipstick Under My Burkha. Her advent into films can be best described as accidental, but she doesn’t shy away from calling a spade a spade when she says, “Once I was in my 30s, I realised that the roles were not that many and that they were not interesting.” In a candid chat with BT, she talks about how even in mainstream films, she has always chosen - to essay unconventional roles and how she doesn’t believe in making happy films, but chooses to tell stories which have a deep impact on people. Excerpts…

You have seamlessly straddled the worlds of both Hindi and Bengali cinema, but in the recent past, your work has been more prolific there. Is it because you are getting more performance-oriented roles in Bengali films?
Once I was in my 30s, I realised that the roles were not that many and that they were not interesting. I don’t know whether it was because people were bored of seeing the same face or because I had become a mother. In fact, I wasn’t even being offered Bengali films. The makers in Kolkata perhaps were under the impression that I was busy working in Mumbai. The kind of roles I played in Goynar Baksho and Kadambari (her Bengali releases) have become rare now. A lot depends on the imagination of the director and the kind of risk the producer wants to take. Many a time, you need an A-list star, otherwise you are not going to get the money to make the film.

Your mother (actor-filmmaker Aparna Sen) once said, “In mainstream cinema, the way you look precedes everything and that’s a terrible thing to happen. I didn’t have the kind of choices that the current generation has.” She also said that she had acted in some terrible films. Well, do you think mainstream cinema has changed since the days your mother acted in them? What’s your take?
The idiom of mainstream films was very set when my mother was acting in them. By the time I started acting, we had improved technically and Hindi cinema had also evolved. I think I got films, which were more realistic than what my mother did. I had more of a choice in the way my characters were written and the heroines were depicted. Also, everybody acts in some terrible films. If you have a long-lasting career, then all your films are not going to be great. As far as looks taking precedence over everything else is concerned, I wasn’t seeking these films (Wake Up Sid and Luck By Chance), they came to me. I have always played unconventional roles. When I did Ek Thi Daayan, I was very happy to be offered a negative role because I feel I have been typecast in the role of the earnest and morally upright woman.

Your character in Lipstick Under My Burkha was of a woman who has survived marital rape. It’s considered to be a taboo topic even today in our society...
The experiences that my character goes through in the film are very common, but it’s rarely depicted with honesty in cinema. We tend to depict safe ideas in our mainstream films. Nobody has ever said that you are not allowed to make a film on marital rape, but it’s a subject that almost never appears in our films, not even in passing.

You made your directorial debut with A Death In The Gunj. The film’s protagonist, Shutu, is a marginalised character. Were you apprehensive about projecting a dark universe?
I don’t think the endless pursuit of happiness is a very desirable quality. Also, I didn’t think about it so much when I was developing and making it. In retrospect, I can say that I am hungry for experiences that move me. I am not scared of watching a film that will depress me; neither am I scared of reading a book that talks about loss or grief. I want to make films which touch me and make me think; they are not necessarily happy films.

So, did turning director happen by chance or did the lack of good roles propel you into it?
I didn’t get into direction because I was not getting that much work in front of the camera. I wasn’t working as much. I had gone through some transformative experiences myself. This film was inside me and it was taking over me in some way. Having seen my mother’s experiences, I didn’t want to direct a film. Executing content which is alternative is like walking on a hard and difficult path. In fact, when I was writing the script, I wasn’t sure if anybody would fund it. It was a passion project.

Would you ever make a film that makes a political statement?
I don’t want to make a political statement for the sake of making one through my films. I can always do that on social media or write an article. However, the political is also personal. And that’s governed by your own choices. But if I can make a film which can move people, is authentic and can also make a political statement, that would be an ideal combination.

As a working woman and mother, often, you must have been asked how you manage to strike a balance. However, working men are never asked this question. Why does only one gender have to shoulder the responsibility of being a superhuman?
The perception can only be changed collectively. These questions must be asked to fathers as well. I remember being asked this question at the Melbourne Film Festival. Seated right next to me was Shoojit Sircar, who is a wonderful filmmaker and a father to two daughters, but nobody asked him about striking a balance. Having said that, the balancing act can get overwhelming at times. I take inspiration from so many women who are doing it every day, including my mother. Even my domestic help inspires me.

The Harvey Weinstein sexual harassment scandal opened a can of worms that has led to many women coming forward and saying #MeToo. Do you think talking about it will lead to many survivors taking the legal route?
I think protest is important, but unfortunately, what happens is that we leave it at that. We don’t examine our lives and the choices we make. Protest provides a voice and solidarity to the survivors, but we need to follow it up with policy change and that’s tedious. We can’t just protest and forget about it.

Mohar Basu (MID-DAY; July 10, 2017)

The handful of big-ticket films that Konkona Sen Sharma has headlined, including 'Wake Up Sid' (2009), alongside Ranbir Kapoor, and 'Luck By Chance' (2009), featuring Farhan Akhtar, are testimony to the fact that she can pull off films that see her in the lead. Yet, her appearances in roles that command a similar screen time have been far and few.'

"The roles eventually dried up," says Sen Sharma, citing that the industry is unwelcoming to women in their 30s, especially towards those who decide to conceive. "I didn't get as many interesting roles as I used to. 'Ek Thi Daayan' (2013) was fun and negative, but I stopped getting such offers. None of the leading ladies have children. I feel women-centric stories catch people's fancies only before the actresses have children. Are they becoming redundant after that? Once they become mothers, are their stories uninteresting?" the actor, 37, says, adding that such a distinction doesn't occur for the men in the industry.

"We hold women to impossible standards. Things that are permissible for male actors are not for the women in cinema." Given the manner in which people celebrated Kareena Kapoor Khan's appearances while she was pregnant, even upholding her as a style icon for expectant mothers, one might suggest that the industry is willing to change its perception. But Sen Sharma points out that actress- mothers rarely topline films. "Movies don't always mirror society."

Konkona Sen Sharma is now gearing up for the release of her next, 'Lipstick Under My Burkha'. She admits that though she never intended to be an actor, being the daughter of actress-filmmaker Aparna Sen did give her an edge in Bollywood. "My mother is respected and successful, which makes me come from a place of privilege. I never faced the challenges that women usually do. Yet, the journey to making my first film was far from easy."