Showing posts with label Hansal Mehta interview. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hansal Mehta interview. Show all posts
Almost every dish we celebrate as heritage was, at some point, a survival strategy-Hansal Mehta
10:38 AM
Hansal Mehta, who is helming ‘Khana Dil Se’ decades after ‘Khana Khazana’, hopes to give the audience culinary stories instead of competitive cooking
Mohar Basu (MID-DAY; May 13, 2026)
Food, according to Hansal Mehta, is one of the strongest places memory lives. And Khana Dil Se, his way of holding on to his family’s memories. “I realized the recipes my mother, aunt, and father-in-law made would slip away if no one held on to them,” reflected the filmmaker.
The filmmaker, known for politically charged dramas like Shahid, Scam 1992 and Scoop, says food became another way to talk about memory. “Food is one of the last places memory lives,” he says, adding that the pilot episode is an attempt to “find and reinvent” his mother’s Undhiyu.
So, Mehta went back to the kitchen for Khana Dil Se, just as he had done in the early 1990s when he directed the genre-defining cooking show, Khana Khazana. But this time, there’s a new ingredient — Artificial Intelligence (AI). Agreeing that filmmakers’ concerns about AI replacing artistes are legitimate, he asserted that AI is not at the forefront of his show.
“The families and their recipes are what the show is about. AI is a tool that helps me tell that story. Working the conventional way means animation budgets, period reconstructions, and location shoots. These costs put this kind of show out of reach for almost everyone. AI lets me do that visual work at a fraction of the time and cost.”
Even as we have seen a surge in competitive cooking shows, meaningful culinary storytelling is absent from Indian platforms. That’s a void Mehta hopes to fill with his YouTube show.
“We have travel-and-eat shows, we have competitions, we have celebrity chef formats. What we don’t have are enough shows documenting our recipes. Somebody Feed Phil is a wonderful show, but it’s an outsider’s affectionate gaze, and that’s not the same as an insider’s archive. India has, conservatively, a few hundred distinct culinary traditions, most of them undocumented in any serious filmed form. The platforms might not be wrong that conventional food shows have lost captivity. They’re wrong about why. Audiences haven’t stopped caring about food. They’ve stopped accepting cooking shows that have become more like a sports league than a kitchen. The plan is to make something good enough that the question of where it sits primary network, streaming, somewhere we haven’t thought of yet becomes a happy problem rather than a strategic one. I’ve been around long enough to know you can’t reverse-engineer a hit by deciding the platform first. You make the show. If it’s the show people are talking about, the platforms come. I’d love for ambitious, archival, slow-cooked food television to find its way back to the kind of mainstream audience Khana Khazana once had. There’s a generation that grew up watching Sanjeev on Sunday mornings and is now raising children of their own. I think they’re ready for a food show that takes them, and the food, seriously again."
The show also leans heavily into the politics of food, something Mehta says was inspired by Anthony Bourdain’s worldview. “Bourdain was right about nearly everything, and food being political was the most important thing he kept saying. Take Gosht Nihari. We tend to think of nihari as a single dish, Lucknow’s, Delhi’s, or Karachi’s. It’s actually three different preparations across a border that didn’t exist when the recipe was written. Nihari was perhaps born in 18th-century Shahjahanabad as labourers’ food. A pot left on dying embers overnight so it would be ready before fajr prayer. The Nawabs of Awadh refined it in Lucknow, perfumed it with kewra and rose. After Partition, it crossed into Karachi in the mouths of refugees and became a national obsession in Pakistan. Three cities, three versions of a single dish, separated by a line on a map. Most of the great Indian dishes are working-class food that the courts later adopted, not the other way around. Nihari belonged to soldiers and dyers before it belonged to Nawabs. Undhiyu was farmers’ communal food, with multiple Patidar and Koli families contributing vegetables to a single pot buried in a shared field at Uttarayan. Butter chicken, which will be featured in our third episode, was invented by Punjabi refugees in 1947 Delhi who had to figure out what to do with leftover tandoori chicken. Almost every dish we celebrate as heritage was, at some point, a survival strategy."
Mukul Dev stood by me during my darkest days-Hansal Mehta
11:19 AM
Filmmaker Hansal Mehta remembers his late friend and collaborator with deep affection
Priyanka Sharma, Letty Mariam Abraham (MID-DAY; May 25, 2025)
Actor Mukul Dev, 54, who went on to build an over 25-year long career across mediums and languages, passed away on Friday night following a brief illness. For many in the Hindi film and television industry, it’s the loss of a kind friend who loved telling stories and bad jokes. To the world, filmmaker Hansal Mehta first collaborated with Dev in 2018 on his Rajkummar Rao-starrer, Omerta.
Dev is credited as the co-writer. But their collaborations go back a long way, and their friendship even longer. “We became friends because we used to go to the same gym. And then we would hang out together all the time. We were literally inseparable. He stood by me during my darkest days,” shares Mehta.
Dev made his film as well as television debut in 1996. The director shares he worked with the actor in both mediums. “We did television together, briefly. We also did a couple of films together, but none of them got released,” he says, before adding that through their intimate friendship, he discovered the storyteller in Dev.
“He used to keep narrating story ideas. In fact, he brought me the story of Omertà. From the time he pitched, the film took almost 14 years to get made. Once I completed the film, I called him and said, ‘Mukul, film ban gayi hai’,” the filmmaker shares.
Dev offered an unwavering support as a friend, says actor Dipshikkha Naggpal, who starred with him in Teri Bhabhi Hai Pagle (2018) and the Vikram Bhatt-directed 2019 series Maya.
Reminiscing about their two decade friendship, she says, “He was an amazing human being. He was a pilot, came from a good background, and was very sophisticated in the way he spoke. He was a thorough gentleman, humble and an extremely kind human being. He was also a very good astrologer and would often read my chart! There was so much more to him than being an actor — he had a personality. He had an amazing face, so I would always take his pictures from different angles. When I told him that women were crushing on him, he would say, ‘Where are these women?’”
It wasn’t just the audience who gushed over Dev’s looks. His peers did it too. And he loved it, Mehta tells us. “He was the most handsome friend I’ve ever had — beautiful eyes, great bone structure, and what a face!” Mehta smiles.
“And he had a good amount of vanity. He could not handle a little bit of paunch or anything showing. He would run on the treadmill. He was so conscious. He was a beast on the treadmill. He would run for an hour at a stretch. And he needed a mirror in front of him to be able to run because he would run and only look at himself,” Mehta laughs.
But he wasn’t the same in the last few years, the filmmaker shares. “The last few years, he just let go. I spoke to him few months ago and told him, 'Why are you not looking after yourself?' He started laughing. He was always laughing. He also used to crack some of the worst jokes possible!”
But what remained constant was Dev brimming with story ideas. In fact, he would often tell Mehta that he wished to narrate them to him. The narration couldn't happen, a regret the filmmaker harbours.
"He once sent me a voice note saying, 'I want to tell you stories. I have many stories. You listen to them once. You'll like them.' He had been telling me stories for a long time. We kept promising to meet. I would say, 'Come and see me, come to my office. Let's hang out.' But that day never happened. I feel when people are alive, we don't meet enough. Then all you live with later is the regret that you did not meet enough," says a sombre Mehta.
But Dev lives on in the stories and memories shared by his friends and colleagues. Like Mehta tells us about the time when Dev saw his writer’s credit in Omerta. “He was going through a low phase at the time. Seeing the credits, he thanked me profusely, saying, 'Tune mere credit de diya usme yaar. Thank you for doing that.' He just felt so validated and seen because of that one credit. He took so much pride in that," the director shares. Or that moment when the two friends partied all night to celebrate their collaboration.
"I remember, we had a screening in Delhi. And then Mukul and I partied till the early hours of the morning. I will always remember the gleam in his eyes, and that mysterious smile. And every time you wanted to click a picture, the pout would happen,” Mehta smiles.
Hansal Mehta and Deepshikha Nagpal
Mounjaro isn’t a magic pill. It works as part of a larger, carefully managed plan-Hansal Mehta
10:18 AM
“When you feel good, you create better,” says Hansal Mehta as he opens up about the stigma around modern medicine for weight-loss
Priyanka Sharma (MID-DAY; May 14, 2025)
“I feel lighter, so does the world around me,” says filmmaker Hansal Mehta as we get on a call with him to talk about the new journey he has undertaken, one that leads him to a fitter, freer self. In times when conversations around health, fitness, and weight loss are often buried under stigma or sensationalism, the filmmaker’s take on his journey with Mounjaro for weight loss is refreshingly honest. Excerpts from the interview:
How did your journey with Mounjaro begin?
I’d been struggling with weight for a few years. That led to insulin resistance and early signs of metabolic disease. I was working out, doing everything I could, but the cycle wasn’t breaking. I was first put on Ozempic [semaglutide], which helped to an extent. Later, my doctor prescribed Mounjaro, at a slightly higher-than-basic dose. It’s been nearly two years, and in the last six months, my sugar [levels] have normalized and I’ve lost 10–11 kilos. But everything I’ve done has been under the supervision of my physician, Dr Vishesh Agrawal. Mounjaro isn’t a magic pill. It works as part of a larger, carefully managed plan.
Did you feel any hesitation about using it?
I believe in research, data, and modern medicine. If something has been shown to work, and is prescribed under supervision, I’m open to it. There shouldn’t be stigma around using medical tools that can help. Talking about it helps others who may be silently struggling. Obesity, diabetes, and lifestyle diseases cause both physical and psychological damage.
When celebrities use such medication, it often gets sensationalized
Yes, it becomes a meme fest. There’s misinformation, like the whole ‘Ozempic face’ theory—which, in my experience, comes from starvation and poor lifestyle choices. Medicine alone cannot do that to you. The use of modern medicine has become this dark secret. Anyway people talk about Bollywood as if we consume drugs. So by not talking about it, you’re making it look [shady].
Self love
I avoid sugar — but not completely. I drink occasionally. If I do, I make sure to compensate with an extra workout. I feel lighter mentally. I was already on this journey before I began work on Gandhi, and it turned out to be one of my healthiest shoots. I take care of how I dress and feel on set, and I think everyone should, not just actors. When you feel good, you create better.
Doctor says
Some common side effects of Mounjaro are nausea, diarrhoea, constipation, and indigestion. Mr Mehta had some of these symptoms, but we were able to help him and negate them because he was constantly in touch with me. With appropriate dosing and medication, the side effects can be tackled. Stopping the use of the medicine depends on the patient’s goal.
- Dr Vishesh Agrawal, consulting physician and diabetologist
A weekend cannot decide the fate of a film-Hansal Mehta
8:18 AM
Vinay MR Mishra (BOMBAY TIMES; March 19, 2025)
The re-release of films has led people to rediscover the movies that didn’t receive the kind of box office success they deserved when they hit the screens years ago. Hansal Mehta, who recently held a screening of Shahid, was thrilled with the response to the film headlined by Rajkummar Rao. While there have been talks about the film’s re-release, there is not much clarity on that yet. Mehta, who has also made films like Citylights, Aligarh, and the web series Scam and Scoop, hopes the film gets a “dignified re-release”.
He says, “At that time, Rajkummar and I were at a different place. Today, more people know us, so at least there’s an audience that has evolved and wants to watch our work. We are trying to figure out a way to re-release this film. Hopefully, we’ll have a dignified re-release.”
‘I believe that films don’t fail, budgets fail’
The screening of Shahid saw a packed house, and Mehta admits it was moving to see the ‘housefull’ tag.
“I was overwhelmed. Just seeing a packed show was very moving. It tells you that all hope is not lost,” Mehta says.
Speaking about the commercial aspect of filmmaking, he shares, “I cannot be left unbothered by it (box office) because the system forces you to bother about it. But I don’t make films just for the box office. What I believe is that films don’t fail, budgets fail. My job is to secure the film by making it at a cost that is recoverable without relying purely on box-office numbers. So, it is about leveraging and hedging your risks correctly, and I do that. I am very conscious about the budget at which I can make my films.”
‘Good films never die’
Reflecting on the trend of re-release of films, some of which are just a few years old, Mehta shares, “Tumbbad did very well, and that sort of encouraged people that maybe there’s a second chance for their films. Good films never die. A weekend cannot decide the fate of a film or define the legacy of a film.”
‘You will see a comedy film made by me very soon’
In today’s era of heightened sensitivity, is filmmaking more challenging? Mehta replies, “I don’t know… it is just noise. As a filmmaker, I have to wear blinkers and make what I want. My next series, Gandhi, is as fearless as Shahid was. You should keep your head down and do what you want to do. If I want to make an out-and-out commercial film, I will do it with conviction and have fun because I’ve grown up on those films. Whatever you do, make the film with purity and honesty.”
Ask Mehta whether he plans on making an action film, and he says, “You will see a comedy film and a big action film made by me very soon. It’s a completely whacked-out, crazy comedy, and the other one is a well-mounted, hardcore heartland action film. I’ll make only what I enjoy making; otherwise, I would rather not do it.”
My film Faraaz had to bear the brunt of Bangladesh’s authoritarian regime-Hansal Mehta
8:12 AM
Chandrima Pal (BOMBAY TIMES; August 8, 2024)
In the backdrop of the socio-political upheaval in Bangladesh, Hansal Mehta, whose film Faraaz was based on the Holey Artisan Bakery hostage-shootout in Dhaka (2016), expressed his views on what he said was the ‘tyranny’ of the ousted government that had banned his film in the country. In a social media post Mehta alleged he had been threatened and was under pressure from both ‘Indian agencies’ and ‘senior officials from Bangladesh’, to abort his film, which eventually took two years to find a small theatrical release before streaming on OTT.
In a conversation with Calcutta Times, the Scoop and Aligarh director elaborated on what transpired during the making of the film, the ban and his hopes from the young people and the creative community in the neighbouring country. Excerpts:
You have written about what happened after you decided to go ahead and make your film. But why did you pick this topic in the first place?
This idea came to me from Mahesh Bhatt. He was at an event where Faraaz, the protagonist of our film, was posthumously awarded for his bravery during the shootout. Bhatt sahab was moved by the story and shared the idea with me. I wanted to make the film because I realized it is not just a story about Bangladesh but a story of our times, about the ineptitude of the system in a time of crisis, and the youth of our times, and of the majoritarian chokehold on humanity. In my view, the tragic event was a catalyst for a larger story with a universal message. The characters could have been anywhere, the incident could have happened anywhere.
You have expressed your empathy for the citizens of Bangladesh who have overthrown the Sheikh Hasina regime. Have you been following the recent developments in the country?
I have borne the brunt of the authoritarianism that the people in Bangladesh have been protesting. I know how they pressured me from the point the film was announced. I received calls and messages from various quarters not to make the film. There were senior cops, IAS and IFS officers who tried to intimidate me by saying, “RAW officers want your number.” I would tell them so please give them my number. Unfortunately, they were talking to the wrong person. Intimidation empowers me, it tells me I am doing something right. I even had the Bangladesh High commissioner fly down to Mumbai to meet me and tell me that I should not make the movie because it shows their government “in a very poor light.” This is what authoritarian and majoritarian governments like to do, control people’s voices, silence them. But my film is not critical of the government. In its core it is a human drama. But the litigation kept pouring in and it took me nearly two years to release the film.
What were the exact objections to your film?
The strange thing is all the petitions filed from Bangladesh were from the families of the victims. They were grieving and hurt, I understand. But there were people like this mother who filed a petition saying the film would destroy Bangladesh’s image in the world. They liked to present themselves as a progressive, efficient democracy under the former PM’s regime. And Faraaz was apparently against national interests. It simply did not make any sense and even today we have been going round in circles because the lawyers representing the petitioners simply do not show up. Obviously, the objections were manufactured. They also had a problem with me making the film. Since when did an incident of this nature become out of bounds for any filmmaker?
Bangladesh’s youth have been at the forefront of this uprising. What was your sense of the mood on the streets when you were making your film?
I went to Dhaka quietly to research for my film, and interviewed many young people, survivors and even acquired the rights to the book that takes you through the incidents of the night. Wherever I went I met people who kept saying that they were hopeful that a new Bangladesh would emerge, and they are in for better times. You see, when you suppress common people for so long, there will come a point when they rise in protest. That’s what’s happening now.
You have also been reposting stories about the upheaval that followed the overthrow of the regime.
There is a counter narrative that this movement is powered by extremists and fundamentalists. It is not true. I have met people there. This movement has seen spirited participation of citizens from all walks of life and they are genuinely asking for a change. I hope they get the democracy they had been fighting for.
Are you hopeful about the release of your film now in Bangladesh?
I sincerely hope the film reaches the people it is meant for. We have incurred a considerable financial burden with this ban. But I am always in solidarity for democracy, freedom, equality and justice. That’s what I stand for, my work and my films uphold these values. I am in solidarity with all like-minded people from my fraternity and outside anywhere in the world.
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I am aware of B’desh filmmaker Mostofa Sarwar Farooki’s film on the same incident which was delayed for similar reasons. It finally found a slot on OTT
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The Holey Artisan Cafe incident could have happened anywhere. The characters could be any of us. It is the universal story of a system that fails its people and stifles dissent
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India is not Bangladesh or Pakistan. We have a robust judicial system. It took us time, but the courts ruled in our favour & our film was released here
Jai was born when I was 23. I managed to find my son when I needed him-Hansal Mehta
3:13 PM
His father’s early failure was a learning. The recent zip zap zoom to critical acclaim and fame has brought faith. Hansal Mehta, readying for the release of his first solo directorial, says it’s cinema that has kept the two together
Priyanka Sharma (MID-DAY; March 24, 2024)
“Disney’s mandate doesn’t allow the title of father on screen,” Hansal Mehta displays disarming candour as he opens up about his motivation to board son Jai’s latest directorial, Lootere, as showrunner. This is not the first time Jai has taken up director duties—he co-directed Sony LIV series Scam 1992 (2020) with Hansal, his director-producer father—but it’s the first time he is the captain of his ship, prompting senior Mehta’s emotional involvement.
“The only reason for me to be the showrunner was that it was Jai’s solo directorial. I have seen him in action before, but it was good to see him taking charge this time and not having to fight with me,” he chuckles. Before collaborating with his father on the web series, Jai served as associate director on several of his films, including Shahid, Citylights and Aligarh. This time, Mehta wasn’t instructing him.
“I was handling him. We served as a sponge for each other. When Shaailesh [R Singh, show’s co-creator, co-writer and producer] had an issue and wanted to tell Jai something, he’d target me, because Jai would be at the shoot. He would call and scream. I would say, ‘Okay, okay. I will talk to Jai.’ Then I would convey the message to him, but in a different way. Similarly, if Jai was facing frustration, he couldn’t share it with his team; a director must keep the morale high. So, he too would come to me.”
Jai doesn’t feel the difference, though. The roles might have changed, but his father’s unwavering support stands. “He has been supportive, including for my short films.. and I have made some terrible ones; some even I don’t have copies of,” he laughs.
Their filmmaking styles are different, but there’s much that they share in common as people. Like their ability to veil emotions as mature professionals. “I refer to him as Hansal Sir. The last time I called him on the phone and addressed him as ‘dad’, he asked, ‘Do you need money? What happened? Why are you calling me dad?’,” Jai says.
It can be attributed to the fact that their relationship has been built on film sets. To Hansal, their shared love for the movies is what makes them father and son. “We have spent more time on set than we have at home together. He was born when I was barely 23. I was searching for myself and in that search, I managed to find my son when I needed him, which was when he became assistant director. We have ended up discovering each other on set. We have spent the most intense times together and discovered each other as people, passionate about films and telling stories. So, it [cinema] keeps us together.”
Even before he joined his father on the set as assistant, Jai had developed an intimate connection with Mehta’s filmmaker self. He grew up watching a director failing with every movie and trying again. “A lot of people know of Hansal Mehta only after he made Shahid [2013]. He made six films before that. That’s something no one will talk about. Even he won’t,” Jai laughs, before adding, “I have two younger sisters. Their father is the director of Shahid, Citylights, Aligarh, Scam, Scoop. [But] the father I know is the director of Jayate, Dil Pe Mat Le Yaar, Chhal, three unreleased films. Of Raakh too. I grew up with that director.”
Shahid, a critically acclaimed film based on the life of lawyer and human rights activist Shahid Azmi, who was assassinated in 2010, it starred Rajkummar Rao, and brought Mehta the Best Director gong at the 2014 National Film Awards.
Evidently, it has not been easy. Mehta is the first in his family to take up filmmaking. “We aren’t film royalty,” Jai declares.
In a rare display of emotion, Mehta sounds poignant while painting a picture of Jai’s childhood and their journey as a family. “He has seen me through days that weren’t exactly ideal, struggling to find myself and keep our lives together. We were searching for a structure as family when things were going haywire. Jai has lived through the troubles of a slightly complicated childhood,” Mehta says.
In a bid to snap out of this reflective moment, Jai quickly adds, “But there are no regrets. There’s only good from here on. You don’t look back. You think about all that you learnt and use that to do better.”
And the biggest learning from a challenging childhood is to never give up. “There was a time when he felt, ‘What am I doing?’ And he did take a break [from filmmaking] but ultimately, he returned and did Shahid, which took two years to make, and another year and a half to release. It was tough but he never stopped.”
The film industry is more inclusive than many professions-Hansal Mehta
8:16 AM
Filmmaker Hansal Mehta says the film industry has embraced the queer community with far more sensitivity than it gets credit for
As told to Renuka Vyavahare (BOMBAY TIMES; June 14, 2023)
There is an improvement in the depiction of queer characters on screen. As this generation is getting more woke, there is more understanding. People are cautious about not being insensitive. While there is a long way to go in bridging the gap given the discrimination the LGBTQIA+ community has suffered in the past, there are steps being taken. Our film industry has embraced the queer community with far more sensitivity than it gets credit for. It is far more inclusive than many other industries and professions.
For stronger queer representation, we need to work on our casting choices and the stories we tell. They need to be more mainstream. The short film (Baai) I made for Modern Love Mumbai, I chose to tell that story because it had a lot of sensitivity, and it represented the community with a lot of love and empathy. Baai focuses on the love story of Manzar (Pratik Gandhi) and Rajveer (Ranveer Brar).
I wanted to treat it like a regular love story as opposed to being seen as a gay love story. It had songs, family drama, familial opposition...all the tropes of a mainstream Hindi film or a heterosexual love story. Stories are stories. They are not driven by someone’s sexual orientation.
‘YOU LEARN THROUGH YOUR STORIES’
You learn through your stories, and exploring them makes you more empathetic. Aligarh played a huge part in my life in building that empathy. I made Aligarh because Apurva Asrani was a part of it as a writer and editor. The writing was nuanced. Manoj’s performance and Apurva’s script gave me a better understanding of why we need to evolve as a society. When you look at queer stories told around the world, they have gone beyond the ones we tell here. We are still dealing with queer problems and are bogged down by societal attitude.
‘PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS’
If a studio or streaming platform allows me, I will cast actors from the queer community for relevant roles. However, representation through stories is far more important to me. An actor is an actor, and the best actor should get the job. Aligarh without Manoj Bajpayee won’t be Aligarh. Can you imagine anyone but Tom Hanks in Philadelphia? Our mainstream actors still turn down such parts. You cannot be inclusive in real life and exclusive in choosing your characters. Put your money where your mouth is.
‘POPULAR STORIES WILL BRING MORE QUEER REPRESENTATION’
When I made Baai, some people from the community rightly caused a furore about the absence of gay actors playing gay parts. Ultimately the idea was to get this story to be seen by maximum people and cast the best actors for those roles, so I got Pratik Gandhi. Should there be more actors from the community playing queer roles? Yes, of course, but let’s take one step at a time. As you make the stories more popular, there will be more queer representation.
I don’t think Safeena Husain and I had any time to think about a wedding-Hansal Mehta
8:21 AM
Critically acclaimed filmmaker Hansal Mehta and social entrepreneur Safeena Husain look back at 17 years of struggle, togetherness and children. And three weeks of marriage
Jane Borges (MID-DAY; June 19, 2022)
What would it be like to marry someone you’ve been with for 17 years? It’s something this writer wondered on her way to meet filmmaker Hansal Mehta and his long-time partner and “new bride” Safeena Husain. We were obviously not expecting them to be all coy. Perhaps, we were looking for traces of this new relationship that binds them. “I wonder why anyone would be interested in our story,” Hansal tells us, curious that we were actually curious. Safeena joins us moments later, and sits across her husband on a three-seater sofa at their Bandra home. “Paas aajao,” he says. “Tum aajao,” she teases, “Or else people will think that it was me who was chasing you. Jabki sachayi kuch aur hai.”
The day we meet, it has been exactly two weeks since their “secret wedding” in San Francisco. Theirs wasn’t the kind of ostentatious shaadi that Bollywood is now known for. In fact, their daughter Kimaya played pap with a DSLR that had been gifted to her a few weeks earlier. The wedding happened in a lawyer’s office in California that had been modestly decorated with plastic flowers, drapes and heart-shaped cardboard cutouts, with ‘Love’ scribbled on them—Hansal clarifies this wasn’t his doing. It was a pre-designed set on the mezzanine floor of the office for the many marriages that the lawyer was registering that day. But even while breaking away from the typical, they stuck to the filmi rule book: They announced their wedding on Instagram.
Had it been left to the couple, none of this would have really happened. Marriage, they say, wasn’t even on their mind. “[The conversation about] marriage never came up, because we had children very early on in our relationship,” says Hansal, of his two daughters Kimaya and Rihanna. “And when we started seeing each other, I was already a father to two kids [Jai and Pallava from his first marriage], so she had some advanced booking already,” he jokes. “With all of this, I don’t think we had any time to think about it [a wedding].”
Hansal and Safeena owe writer Daisy Rockwell, who last month won the Booker Prize for translating Geetanjali Shree’s Hindi novel Tomb of Sands, for bringing them together. This was on January 21, 2005. “Daisy was the head of the Institute of South Asia Studies at Berkley, and thought it would be fun to do a Bollywood internship programme for her students. She checked if I could set up a dinner [for her with a few filmmakers and actors], during one of her visits,” recalls Safeena, who at the time, had just moved from California to be closer to her actor father Yusuf Husain.
The dinner, she remembers, was attended by Rajpal Yadav, Tinu Anand and Hansal among a few others. “I didn’t know Daisy or Safeena,” says Hansal. “But a common friend had requested that I join them. It was during this dinner that I learnt that she is the daughter of Yusuf Husain, who I had worked with in a show called Family Business. He always spoke about her. Sometimes, if he wanted to leave the shoot early, he would make an excuse that his daughter had come down from the US. He’d actually go somewhere else,” Hansal laughs.
At the time, Hansal had no clue that Safeena was already a huge fan of his work. “Everyone in my family knew how much I loved his film, Dil Pe Mat Le Yaar [2000]. When I finally met him, I was charmed. I liked him a lot. His political leaning was interesting,” she says. We ask him about it. “I was more Left leaning,” he says, adding, “It wasn’t considered a bad word back then. Today, I consider myself liberal.” “But, I think she liked my humour,” he tells us. “No, no, no, he is not funny at all. One should never encourage his sense of humour,” she butts in.
After that dinner, the two only met a month later, when Safeena along with a student, visited him in Alibaug where he was shooting for a film. “I was trying to take that internship programme forward,” she says, when we tease her about conspiring yet another meeting. It’s at this shoot, that Safeena narrated her favourites scenes from Dil Pe Mat Le Yaar. “He very romantically told me, ‘Mere to baal khade ho rahe hain’,” she smiles.
The truth, Hansal tells us, was that until then, he had never met a person who had understood his vision for the film that starred Manoj Bajpayee and Tabu. The film’s failure at the box office had left him broken. “I wanted to forget it. There were some memories attached to the film that were not very pleasant. But, here was someone who remembered every single detail. That was enough to get me attracted to her.”
Safeena came into Hansal’s life when he was going through a professionally low phase. “It was a phase of despair, to be honest. I was completely lost, and didn’t know what I was doing with my life. I was making these so-called ‘sex films’, so that I could make money out of something... anything. And somewhere, I did feel like I had sold out. Her coming in was almost like a timely reminder that ‘you are that filmmaker, not this’,” shares Hansal.
The couple started seeing each other soon after—a road trip from Ooty to Mumbai followed. “I didn’t realise when we started living together. I used to live very close to her home. She used to stay with her dad in Tarapore Gardens, while I lived in Lokhandwala Complex. Sometimes, I would stay back for days at her place,” he remembers. After Kimaya was born, the two got busy putting their lives in order. Safeena started Educate Girls, a non-profit which focusses on mobilising communities for girls’ education in India’s rural and educationally backward areas.
Since they couldn’t see themselves afford a home in the city, they moved to a village in Malavli near Lonavla, living a frugal existence. “We couldn’t afford anything else.”
Hansal, who was still struggling to find a footing in the movies, used that time to help his wife build her organisation. “I made three films during that period [2005-08]. Two of them never got released, and the one that did, Woodstock Villa, wasn’t my kind of work. I remember asking Safeena then, that if I gave up all of this [movies] indefinitely, and did something I really wanted to do, would she be able to support me. She instantly said, yes. That support saw me through 2008 and 2013, until I made Shahid, which received a lot of critical acclaim. Until then, I was hand to mouth. I was not doing any work.”
The couple returned to Mumbai after three years, buying their first home together with the help of their parents. “We actually lived the life you live after you marry in your 20s. Everything happened to us 10 to 15 years later. We found ourselves, our voice, and our mission together, and then we were just busy pursuing that mission; marriage as a conversation never came up,” says Hansal, adding, “Until, we had to get a passport for our child.”
One of the reasons why Hansal and Safeena also resisted the idea of marriage was because they had both been married once before. “There was this feeling then that... If you don’t get married, you don’t have to get divorced.” Hansal says that their parents too, didn’t force them. “Safeena’s father lived his life unconventionally. In a way, he inspired us to live just that way. We saw him, and never adhered to the conditioning that was thrust upon us. We sort of imbibed that.”
But the only time they felt the challenge of not having a marriage certificate was when it came to getting legal work done. “We couldn’t apply for a bank loan, or even rent an apartment together,” Safeena remembers.
When it came to getting their daughters’ passports, Hansal says he had to give an affidavit “saying that the child has been out of the wedlock”. “It’s the most ridiculous paper to submit. Unfortunately, this institution [of marriage] has been imposed upon us,” he says.
But the real trigger was Khar Gymkhana, Hansal says with a straight face. Safeena breaks into a laugh. “That really irritated him. In all the 17 years that I have known him, he hasn’t been to the gymkhana even once, but he still wants the membership,” she shares.
“See, my father was a Khar Gymkhana member, and I also spent my early years there. That’s where I developed my love for sports, be it cricket, tennis or swimming. Jai also grew up playing badminton and tennis there. When the time came for my daughters to get a membership, I was asked to show over 20 papers to prove that they are my children. The authorities told me that there are byelaws that cannot be flouted. I had to give them so many affidavits and certificates through the lawyer, for my girls to get the membership. After all this, they didn’t give Safeena the membership. They said I had to get married for that. I was so pissed off.”
Safeena clarifies it wasn’t the gymkhana membership, as much as her father’s death, six months ago to Coronavirus, that made her realise how insensitive the system can be. “There was some money stuck in his bank accounts, and despite being his daughter, I had to go through a lot to even inherit what he left me. I thought, ‘Oh my god, our situation is even more complex’. We didn’t want to make it messy for our children, just because we chose to live our lives differently.”
Hansal says his dear friends, actors Rajkummar Rao and Patralekhaa had been trying to convince them to get married since forever. “They even suggested that we get married alongside them,” says Hansal. “But we wanted to have an age-appropriate wedding.”
Their decision to get hitched was an impulsive one. They hadn’t told any family member, including their sons, that they were planning this. “Because, we weren’t sure of it either.” Since Safeena is an American citizen, they were able to get dates for the court marriage almost immediately. They left for San Francisco on the spur.
The couple was married on May 24, in front of their daughters and Safeena’s mother and sister, who live there. “We informed them about it only a day before the wedding,” he says, “The moment I got married, I sent the pictures to our family back home. Jai [Hansal’s son], was quite upset. He said, ‘If you had told me, I’d have been there’.”
The ceremony, Hansal recalls, was an emotional one. “Hansal was crying,” Safeena recounts. “Suddenly, while taking the vows, it just hit me. The spirit of that ceremony is actually sacrosanct. I think we married at the right time, because we understood the meaning of being together.” Safeena adds, “We realised, we had got married for nothing, but love. In the last 17 years, we’ve seen a lot together. We lost our parents, we’ve experienced struggle. And we have stood by each other. Marriage makes it all very real.”
Ever since they returned to Mumbai, they’ve been holding small, intimate celebrations for friends and family. “And can you imagine, the moment that Instagram post was out [announcing the marriage], who messages me?” asks Hansal, leaving little room for us to guess. “The gymkhana president.”
Hansal Mehta and wife Safeena Husain with family at their wedding on May 24, 2022 in San Francisco
Storytelling has gone through a paradigm shift, we have to adapt to it-Hansal Mehta
8:20 AM
Rachana Dubey (BOMBAY TIMES; January 17, 2021)
The year 2020 is officially over. However, the changes that it brought about will be evident in the way things work for a while. For instance, storytelling through the visual medium. In 2020, several films that were meant for theatrical release, found themselves premiering on OTT platforms. Today, several filmmakers have more shows or movies meant for a direct-to-digital release on the cards than films for the big theatrical run, given the acceptance for their previous content on the online medium. One such filmmaker is Hansal Mehta, whose film and show both premiered in the OTT space.
Speaking about what he plans to do next, Hansal tells BT, “I am just doing what I always do — trying to reinvent myself and do something new. I am constantly trying to evolve for the better or for worse. I am trying to tell new stories, experiment with new and different characters. What has changed since last year is the fact that producers are now allowing me to tell the stories that I want to tell with complete freedom.”
Talking about the greatest challenge that lies ahead for filmmakers now, he says, “I think the challenge that lies ahead for all of us is how one works in this current scenario. The Coronavirus pandemic is still here. With the popularity of digital content, storytelling patterns have changed. We are not sure about how things will be after this is over. Storytelling, I’d say, has gone through a paradigm shift, and we have to adapt to it. I think I have adapted to it.”
Hansal, like everyone else, spent a lot of time indoors with his family during the lockdown. He was even seen catching up with friends like Vishal Bhardwaj and Anurag Kashyap on video calls. “The biggest learning from this pandemic is that there is no greater joy than being with family and friends. The time taught us who our real friends are and how much we long to be with those people who genuinely matter,” he says.
Pratik Gandhi turns the notion on its head that outsiders don’t get a chance-Hansal Mehta
7:59 AM
Prashant Singh (HINDUSTAN TIMES; November 12, 2020)
He is surely shining bright right now, thanks to his extremely solid outing in Scam 1992: The Harshad Mehta Story. But for filmmaker Hansal Mehta, who directed the web series, what actor Pratik Gandhi stands for isn’t just “sublime talent but also unbelievable grit, determination and hard-work”.
The Aligarh director, who “discovered Pratik from (the) theatre (world)”, feels the actor has an incredible personal story as well. “He worked in a company, and somehow, managed to buy an apartment for his family in Kandivali. But the best thing is he never let go off his passion — theatre despite all the challenges. So, he worked during the day and did theatre in the evening/night. His dedication is amazing,” says Mehta, adding that he “is, any way, all for theatre, and theatre actors”.
Now, it goes without saying that Gandhi, who was seen in the much-appreciated Gujarati film, Wrong Side Raju, besides doing small parts in Hindi movies such as Loveyatri and Mitron (both 2018), is the toast of the town.
“He is getting offers left, right and centre. But I feel, he should choose his next projects once all the excitement settles down. Abhi toh all kinds of things are being offered to him,” says Mehta, adding that he is “extremely happy for Pratik since he deserves it all”. “Pratik also turns the entire notion on its head that outsiders don’t get a chance (in the film industry). At least, it will never happen when I am concerned,” says the writer-director, adding that he “would love to work again” with the actor.
This is the first time my daughters will get to watch a film of mine with the rest of the family-Hansal Mehta
8:08 AM
Hansal Mehta veers away from his usual dark and adult themes to jump into a new genre, only to discover that he actually enjoys making comedies
Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; November 10, 2020)
A day after Joe Biden was elected to the White House, National Award-winning director Hansal Mehta recalled the pall of gloom on the sets of Simran when, four years ago, Donald Trump, the man he defeated, was voted the 45th President of America. “Some cried, some were just silent,” he recounts, imagining smiles on those faces today as a long dark night comes to an end. “Unfortunately, I’ve lost touch with many of them, but there is an American actor, Timothy Ryan Hickernell, who also played Daniel Pearl in Omerta, who I know is celebrating. Tim messaged me, saying, ‘We’ve won, baby.’ My daughters are US citizens, so the politics there concerns me since whoever is getting elected is their President,” he reasons.
Does he see himself making a film on the political battle that had the world riveted for weeks, you wonder, and Hansal points out that if he came across a personal story with US politics in the backdrop, he might be tempted. “I am always driven by a story, for instance it was Rajkummar’s (Rao) character that took me into the small-town world of my soon-to-release film Chhalaang,” he says, adding that, for now, he’s hoping the results will positively impact the world. “We’ve spent too much time dealing with the lack of dignity and polarisation. It’s time the language of politics changes and the world gets more united”.
For him personally, it’s encouraging that those who would constantly bicker with him online, are enjoying his recent series even while they still differ with him politically. “That proves that stories have the power to unify and heal. And I am happy I am telling these stories at a time when the world needs to heal,” he exults.
His next, Chhalaang, is a slice-oflife story of a small-town PT teacher played by Rajkummar, the computer teacher, Nushrratt Bharuccha, who steals his heart, and a new competitor, Zeeshan Ayyub who enters the field and pushes him to new highs. Comedy is not a genre Hansal normally favours, but a phone call from producer Luv Ranjan, who was shooting a film in London then, pushed him into exploring a fun space which, he is quick to add, is more “feel good than slapstick”. “Most of the subjects of my films come from me and I work closely with the writers. But Luv had already written this story and though I’ve never asked him why he thought of me to direct it, since we had never met before, when we did interact, I found him to be a sensible guy, with his own understanding of cinema, but open to ideas. So, I decided to go with his judgement. Like its title, Chhalaang was a leap of faith for me too,” Hansal chuckles wryly.
Pointing out that this Diwali will be a difficult one, with Covid-19 curtailing celebrations, the maker is happy to bring a film the whole family can watch together. “This is the first time my daughters will get to watch a film of mine with the rest of the family since all the others have had adult themes,” he informs happily. Will he be joining them? “No, once a film is delivered, I rarely watch my work. I may revisit it after a few years.”
Has he watched Simran, which was shot in the US, after its release, and wished that they’d stuck to the original script? “I did revisit the film on a flight once, but I haven’t revisited the original script. I don’t remember much, I’ve erased Simran from my memory,” Hansal says shortly. The film had driven a wedge between his frequent collaborator, editor and Aligarh writer, Apurva Asrani, and him. Have they sat down since with plans to collaborate on another film? “No. Never say never, but as of now, no,” he retorts. And Kangana Ranaut? With another “No,” he firmly shuts the door on Simran.
Interestingly, the pandemic has been a busy time for Hansal who was editing a nine-hour series (Scam 1992) along with the post-production of Chhalaang. The series has made him proud, both of his son, Jai, who was the co-director, and Gujarati stage and film actor, Pratik Gandhi, the latter reminding him of Rajkummar during their first collaboration, Shahid, which bagged both of them National Awards. “Rajkummar has evolved into a fine actor with some wonderful choices. Pratik has had a longer gestation period, but is coming into his own now. It’s gratifying to work with actors of such calibre, the industry needs such talent to tell good stories,” he avers, pointing out that success has brought a sense of recklessness in him. “There’s this need to go out and shoot because so many ideas have been flooding my mind in the last few months. There are so many stories I want to tell and so little time because I want to make more films, many more.”
So, what’s next? “There was a film I was to kick off in March. I’ve been revisiting it with my writers. There are a couple of other things too. Maybe the anthology will begin first,” he muses. Anubhav Sinha, Sudhir Mishra, Ketan Mehta, Subhash Kapoor and Hansal have joined hands to make five 25-minute films which will be part of an anthology on the common subject of the Coronavirus pandemic. “Mine is more of a comedy; I’ve begun to enjoy this genre now. I’m ready to shoot; we are just trying to find the right location. It will roll in the coming month and we will mostly shoot in Gujarat. But for now, you can just leap into Chhalaang with me,” he signs off. with a laugh.
Have the nation’s entertainers become tools of diversion?-Hansal Mehta
8:30 AM
While every industry might have its share of flaws that need serious introspection, have the nation’s entertainers become the tools of diversion?
Hansal Mehta (HINDUSTAN TIMES; September 25, 2020)
I am filled with sadness. I am distressed to see the vilification of our industry everyday on social media and on news channels. What saddens me more is that some members of the fraternity, who have made their living in this industry, are the ones actively encouraging or spreading such negativity.
Sure, there might be people in our industry and other industries too, who do drugs or have mental health issues, do you vilify them or do you help them? Every industry has its share of flaws which needs serious introspection. However, this vilification is a pandemic overshadowing the real one. No one is trying to find solutions or attempting to help anyone, instead they are busy pointing fingers which is just unfortunate.
We have been entertaining the country for years and when photo-ops, role models or endorsements are needed, these very stars and many other remarkable talents, who are being vilified are the first people to be approached. This concerted effort to demean the industry angers me. It is not coming from a place of genuine concern or with the intention of bringing change. As an Indian citizen, you can raise your voice and have differing opinions but this is a deliberate and motivated attack on a single industry.
Through the pandemic, while people were unable to step out of their homes, we have been completing post-production, shooting and trying our best to create content to entertain audiences. It is time to appreciate, not condemn or demean (us).
I believe, as do most of my colleagues and friends that the show must go on! We will keep on working and doing our job. A number of senior artistes and filmmakers have maintained a stoic silence in the past few weeks because they believe — this too shall pass! While I am hoping that it passes, I want to ask why is our industry being attacked in the Parliament (that too in such an unparliamentary manner by some respected members of the industry)? Why are we being so blatantly abused on social media by obvious hirelings? That too when we have many issues like increasing Coronavirus cases, an economic slowdown, border tensions with China, and of course, a concerted attempt to shut down some uncomfortably opinionated voices? What is the real intent behind this abuse? Have the nation’s entertainers become tools of diversion? What is the real agenda behind this unabated attack on our professional dignity and our passion towards our art? There are multiple theories on this but as advised by friends and colleagues, I will not delve into them here as they might be unfounded - just like all this vilification is.
As an industry, all we can do is to continue working hard and keep our audiences engaged, entertained and dazzled by what we create. I know this vilification is not from the real audiences. They love us. As do we.
OTT frees me from the vagaries of a Friday-Hansal Mehta
8:26 AM
Prashant Singh (HINDUSTAN TIMES; July 14, 2020)
Due to the Coronavirus scare, film theatres were among the first ones to down their shutters. Immediately after that, when certain filmmakers chose to go towards OTT platforms, a debate around ‘OTT vs theatres’ started to rage. Hansal Mehta, for one, feels “theatres aren’t going anywhere”, but also adds that OTT has come as a boon for many.
“Honestly, the magic of big screen/theatres will continue to thrive. But at the same time, for a filmmaker like me, the presence of OTT platforms mean that, if need be, I don’t have to be tied to the vagaries of a Friday,” says Mehta, whose films such as Shahid (2012), Citylights (2014) and Aligarh (2015) are available on streaming platforms.
“The kind of feedback I have got from people, who have watched Shahid or Aligarh now on OTT, is tremendous. Many may have missed out on watching them in theatres but it’s a great feeling for me, as a filmmaker, that people are appreciating my work, regardless of the platform,” says Mehta, who has Rajkummar Rao-starrer Chhalaang as his next release. “Let’s see what the producers do (with regards to its release plans). Right now, there is no clarity on theatres reopening, so I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he says
But Mehta “feels great” that due to OTTs, he doesn’t have to depend on Fridays to showcase his work to audiences. “Every platform, at the end of the day, is going to coexist, but streaming platforms just frees a filmmaker like me from so many things or pressures that may come with a Friday,” says the writer-director, who is currently stationed at his Lonavala home, along with the family.
“I am enjoying my family time here. Besides doing all cooking that I really enjoy, I am also taking out time for work. So, I do my weekly meetings — with my writers and actors — for my show as well as Chhalaang, and my next directorial, too. I don’t see myself coming back to Mumbai anytime soon, or at least till the time when I have some work in the city,” says Mehta, who has also finished two scripts during the lockdown.
I was chatting with Rajkummar & Patralekhaa on my birthday when he broke the news about Irrfan-Hansal Mehta
8:44 AM
Hansal Mehta reveals that a project with the late actor didn’t materialise, says he’s been very productive during the lockdown
Akash Bhatnagat (MUMBAI MIRROR; June 2, 2020)
Also produced by Bhushan Kumar, the film was supposed to release in March, then pushed to June and even now its opening date is uncertain. But Hansal is not worried, “It would have been a disaster had it opened in March; it’s a film which will be liked by all even if it comes after five years as it is an inspiring, heart-warming story laced with gentle and genuine humour. So, I am not bothered.” There have been rumours of a digital release, but the National Award-winning director shrugs it off as just speculations. “We are going through a pandemic and have lost two stalwarts (Rishi Kapoor and Irrfan Khan) in the midst of it. It has been a tough couple of weeks for the industry during which we didn’t even discuss the film. But my producers are working on it and we will have something concrete to announce really soon,” he promises.
Irrfan passed away on Hansal’s birthday (April 29). “I was on a video call with Raj and Patralekhaa who had called to wish me. We were chatting and laughing when Raj broke the news to me. I was stunned,” he recalls. That day, Hansal had tweeted about a secret which even now he refuses to divulge, saying it’s private. All he will say is that Irrfan and he almost ended up working together fairly recently. “It did not happen eventually for a variety of reasons that I don’t want to discuss as it will hurt a lot of other people,” says the filmmaker, who regrets not getting the opportunity, but is glad he got to spend some time with his friend. “We had known each other since 1994, and now our life and death are inter-connected. My date of birth will now mean a new life for Irrfan in a better place,” Hansal says emotionally.
Recently, his film Omerta, based on the life of terrorist Ahmed Omar Saeed Sheikh, completed two years. Going down memory lane, Hansal admits the film was a difficult but satisfying journey because it was Raj and his most intimate collaboration after Shahid. “It will remain special to me because we collaborated on creating an aspect of human nature which we don’t normally explore even as a human characteristic. Evil is not seen as evil,” he points out.
The filmmaker has been a part of movies not only behind the camera, but also in front of it. He was last seen in The Accidental Prime Minister last year. “I keep stepping in for friends when they call me in emergency,” he laughs, revealing he has also done a small role in Vikrant Massey’s sci-fi film Cargo, which was screened at the MAMI film festival in 2019, for producer Shlok Sharma. “I told him I am not an actor but he was persistent,” he shares, adding that he often gets called for acting gigs. “I guess it’s because of my grey hair and that I work for free and for the love of being on a film set. I was even shortlisted for the doctor’s role in Good Newwz, but I was busy with Chhalaang at the time and the film was saved,” he concludes with a chuckle.
When Ajay Devgn announced The Big Bull, we were already shooting-Hansal Mehta
7:59 AM
As he tackles series on Harshad Mehta's stock market scam, director unfazed by comparisons with Abhishek Bachchan - Ajay Devgn's Big Bull
Mohar Basu (MID-DAY; December 17, 2019)
When financial journalist Sucheta Dalal exposed the 1992 securities scam, it not only sent shockwaves across India's financial sector but also marked the downfall of the wizard of Dalal Street, Harshad Mehta. Now, filmmaker Hansal Mehta is gearing up for a retelling of the Rs 50 billion scam with the web series, Scam 1992 - The Harshad Mehta Story."He had a natural gift for speculation and entrepreneurship, and an eye for loopholes. This ingenuity coupled with brash self-confidence made him the Big Bull of BSE. He was often called Amitabh Bachchan of the stock market," explains Hansal, adding that the Pratik Gandhi and Shreya Dhanwanthary starrer — produced by Applause Entertainment and adapted from Dalal's book, The Scam — will be as much about his meteoric rise in the stock market as about his imminent fall. Quiz him if he sought the permission of Harshad's family, and he says, "No, we went by the book. But I know that the family will thank me for making this show. I am decoding the financial system for the audience."
It is not surprising that Harshad's larger-than-life story is also being explored by producer Ajay Devgn in the Abhishek Bachchan-fronted crime thriller, The Big Bull. Does he not worry about comparisons? "When they announced their film, we were already shooting. Our approach is different from theirs. I have been told that they've taken the outline of the story and created a work of fiction from it."
Rajkummar Rao had finished almost an entire bottle of vodka for a scene in Citylights-Hansal Mehta
8:18 AM
As told to Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; October 10, 2019)
My 2014 drama, Citylights, was an adaptation of the BAFTA-nominated British film, Metro Manila. It came to me on a deadline with the script already written. However, as I pointed out to the producers, while the undercurrents might have worked with the original which was set in Philippines, we would need to explore the Indian remake a little more emotionally. For me, it was like a contemporary Do Bigha Zameen set in Mumbai, with a poor garment seller arriving in the city where he is forced to sell his soul to make ends meet. I wanted one big moment of heart-wrenching catharsis after which the protagonist, Deepak Singh, would turn the corner. That’s how we conceived this sequence which was not a part of the original screenplay, or so I’m told, as I haven’t seen the film.
One night, Deepak returns to the under-construction building, where he’s been conned into buying an incomplete apartment, dead drunk. His wife Rakhi and daughter Mahi are both fast asleep, but Deepak wakes up the former and insists she dance for him. He’d been dragged by friends to a ladies’ bar where, after seeing all that the dancers are expected to do, he’s filled with shame and anger at circumstances that compelled him, a conservative small-town man, to agree to his wife working in one such bar. Rakhi tries to calm him down, telling him their daughter would wake up, but Deepak is too inebriated and agitated to care. He throws some notes at her, saying, “Now, you will have to dance” and Rakhi finally snaps and slaps him, pointing out that she had not taken up the job for personal amusement, but because their daughter was going to bed hungry every night. Hearing this, Deepak breaks down and tells her to slap him some more; he deserves it, he says, and admits that the lights of the city were blinding them, assuring her he will not let her get lost in the darkness. He promises to take her back to their village. This is the trigger for him to willfully participate in a crime which ends tragically for the family.Rajkummar is a teetotaller, but for this scene he insisted on having a drink. I tried to dissuade him, saying that it wasn’t required, but he was adamant. And before we knew it, he had finished almost an entire bottle of vodka. It was the first time that he had alcohol and it hit him badly. He could barely walk, but insisted on taking the stairs even though there was an elevator. Finally, I got four people to stand around him to ensure he didn’t fall into the elevator shaft and later, off the building.
We went into the sequence blind, without any rehearsals and with a drunk Rajkummar. And all I could do was place the camera on my shoulder to cover up should anything untoward happen. I had mentally prepared myself for a reshoot, but what happened that night was magical. Even though my hero was not in his senses, once he was in front of the camera, Rajkummar’s brilliance as an actor took him through the scenes.
The real surprise was Patralekhaa, who responded to him with just the right attitude and emotions. Citylights was this 24-year-old modern girl’s first film, in which she was playing a wife, a mother and a woman from a conservative set-up, and what she brought to the scene was incredible. She played it instinctively and like Rajkummar, elevated her character with her performance. I remember the focus puller was so moved by what he was watching that he began to cry, which is why some of the scenes are a little out of focus, but I let them remain rather than reshoot them. They made the sequence real. It was an emotionally exhausting experience for everyone on location that day. My hero had to be literally carried home after pack-up. He cancelled the next day’s shoot because he was throwing up constantly.
Scenes like this one and the one before it, when Patralekhaa is auditioning for the job of a bar dancer, came into the film after the script had been completed. They just happened… And later touched those watching the film. I remember after a screening, Pooja Bhatt was so choked she could not speak. That’s the kind of reaction I had wanted because the idea of Citylights was to turn the spotlight on that invisible part of the city, the people who come here looking for work, and in their struggle to survive, end up sacrificing so much.
Shahid Azmi's mother still hasn't watched the film; it’s too painful for her to relive that chapter-Hansal Mehta
8:12 AM
Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; February 16, 2019)
On February 11, 2010, four gunmen stormed into Shahid Azmi’s office in Mumbai and shot him dead. The next morning the news caught filmmaker Hansal Mehta’s eye, more so the slant of the headlines that pronounced that the 32-year-old lawyer who had been defending Faheem Ansari in the 26/11 attacks case had been killed. “There was an attempt to colour perception by underlining the fact that a Muslim defending another Muslim, one accused of being a terrorist, had been killed. The marginalization of a minority community, an issue relevant even more today, had begun to bother me and I met my writer Sameer (Gautam Singh) in March and told him to script a biographical drama on Shahid. But since the wound was still fresh, I suggested he start his research with neighbours, friends and other lawyers, giving the family a few more months before approaching them,” the filmmaker reminisces.
When they finally interacted with Shahid’s mother, Hansal remembers how concerned she was, asking him several questions on who he was and why he wanted to document her son’s life, wondering if he would be able to represent it correctly. Nine years have passed since and six years since the release of the film, but she has yet to watch it. “It’s too painful for her to relive that chapter,” says the filmmaker, recalling how on the first day of the shoot at Shahid’s office she came, looked long and hard at Rajkummar Rao, then hurried home to return with a pen because “Shahid always carried one”.They shot the film over 10 months, in fits and starts, as and when the money came in. Some days Hansal would go out praying that the little money they had didn’t run out before packup. They filmed in actual locations, in Pydhonie which otherwise is a difficult place to shoot, but thanks to the goodwill Shahid had earned, doors of homes were thrown open to them without any talk of remuneration. Memories were shared generously, some from as far back as the Valley from when Shahid had spent time at a military training camp in PoK and local boys even provided unsolicited security for the unit. “There were times when I despaired, wondering if I’d be able to wrap up the film, but then, the money would come through and difficulties would melt away making me believe that Shahid was watching over us,” Hansal says emotionally.
His home in the film is in the same residential colony where he had lived and the office where they shot was his own, its décor unchanged from when Shahid had occupied it except for the original tiles on the wall behind which had been splattered with his blood and subsequently replaced. However, the quotation of New York-based civil and criminal defence lawyer, Roy Black, still hangs in his office and Hansal quotes it from memory, “By showing me injustice, he taught me to love justice. By teaching me what pain and humiliation were all about, he awakened my heart to mercy. Through these hardships, I learned hard lessons. Fight against prejudice, battle the oppressors, support the underdog.” The plaque outlined the principles of justice which had guided Shahid who was often called a ‘terrorist lawyer’ because he was once a terror accused and had spent time in jail for a crime he didn’t commit.
In fact, it was during his seven-year term at Tihar Jail that Shahid started his college education, and once he was out, went on to study law. After getting his degree, he started taking cases of Muslims charged under the Prevention of Terrorism Act, 2002 (POTA), fighting for many of them pro bono in consultation with NGOs. “In his brief career of seven years, he secured the acquittal of 17 men charged with terrorism, with several more coming through after his murder,” informs Hansal, who having gone through the transcripts of his cases, learnt that unlike many senior lawyers, Shahid used simple, easy-to-understand English to put his point across lucidly, without the baggage of legal jargon.
Prod him on the first reactions of family, friends and neighbours to the film and Hansal recounts they were all very moved, marvelling over how Rajummar had played their Shahid bhai with such accuracy, and wanting to take pictures with him though he was still very new at the time. Later at the party hosted after Rajkumar and Hansal bagged the National Awards for Best Actor and Best Director, Shahid’s younger brother Khalid broke down. “He told us that we had not only brought his brother alive again but imprinted his name in history by shining the light on all that he had achieved in his short life,” says Hansal, asserting that even today, many young men are inspired by him to take up the cause he fought for.
I believe that the only thing that holds us back from telling stories is fear-Hansal Mehta
8:54 AM
Madhureeta Mukherjee (BOMBAY TIMES; May 1, 2018)
Some of his best movies are deeply rooted in reality. In real people and their lives which are complex, unpredictable and unsettling. He’s a filmmaker with a voice, who tells stories to make statements and open doors for conversation and debate. Even if that means confronting some alarming facts and cruel truths. Mehta believes, that’s the need of the hour. The National Award-winning director has trespassed various genres of cinema and made a sex comedy, too. That’s what makes him an interesting filmmaker with various shades, like the characters in his movies. With his next, the biographical crime drama Omertà, based on terrorist Omar Sheikh, coming up for release this week, he talks to us about the times of terror we live in, and tells us about his failures, flaws and his fighting spirit. Excerpts...
Interestingly, Ahmed Omar Saeed Sheikh, the central character of Omertà, also appeared in your film Shahid (2013), based on the slain lawyer and human rights activist, Shahid Azmi. Is that where the idea of making Omertà emerged?
Yes, Omar Sheikh was a part of Shahid, he appears in the scene where he is in prison with Shahid (played by Rajkummar Rao). I was trying to make Omertà since 2005, before I decided to make Shahid. Initially, we wanted Rahul Bose to play the role, but he didn’t want to do the film. Some actors were unsure about doing the film, because they thought, ‘We don’t know what your politics are’. So, it never got made then. But the research for the film continued and then the Shahid Azmi story came to me, which was easier to pitch, because it was the story of a hero. So that way, Shahid was a defining point for this film.
The subject of Omertà is dark and terrifying. How was it to live with the story for so long, because in an interview with us, Rajkummar Rao (who is playing Omar) said that at one point, he was waiting to move on from the dark space?
The moment we completed shooting the last scene, Rajkummar got rid of his beard. For him, I think it was symbolic, it was a way of getting rid of the character. Usually, when I see the final copy of my film, I am more or less detached.
Even when Omertà premiered in Toronto, I didn’t watch the screening. I can’t handle watching the film with a crowd where someone is sneezing or chatting, it makes me mad. And I feel that my energy rubs off on the crowd. Once a film releases, you have no control over it, anyway. But it is difficult to detach myself from the stories that I deal with, because they are not merely films. They are issues that affect our daily lives. So, how can I detach myself from the life I lead?
Omertà is based on a true story, though you have fictionalised it to an extent, right?
It’s a biography, and it is unauthorised, as I can’t get permission from Omar Sheikh, where I am portraying him as an out-and-out villain. It is an imagination of what transpired and what could have happened. So, from different versions of his real story and my research, I have culled out pieces of information and made my own truth. It’s like a journalistic exploration done in a thrilling format.
But then, are you presenting various sides of the story, as that could become complicated and tricky?
The idea is to not make heroism hagiographic or justify villainy. I believe that a hero should not be portrayed as a saint and villainy should not be justified. These are two dangers, and I have not done that in my films. Shahid (Azmi) wasn’t a holier-than-thou personality, he had his own flaws and weaknesses. Similarly, Omar Sheikh is vile, and I have gone to the furthest extent to depict the violence within him and violence outside of him. I wanted to tell this story because there are people like him.
As a filmmaker, you hold strong political views and you voice it brazenly. However, expressing your ideologies through your movies is another challenge — it needs guts, belief and accountability...
I wanted this story to be out of my system. But in a way, it won’t ever leave my system, because there are deep states within Pakistan that harbour people like him. They create people like him and protect them.
Until that state-sponsored terrorism doesn’t end, nothing will change. So, I have called them out and I have taken names. I have said that Pakistan’s ISI (Inter-Services Intelligence) is totally complicit in such operations. And this is all factual, based on research. We refuse to acknowledge the war that is already raging; instead, we talk about eating biryani together. I am asked why I’m not exploring what creates monsters like Omar Sheikh. By doing that, I will be portraying him as a hero, and I refuse to do that and justify his actions. There is a sense of injustice that we all often feel.
There are haves and have-nots all around us. Even in our own lives, there is a feeling of not being first-class citizens and of being marginalised. Many of us go through such feelings, but does that manifest into us becoming monsters? No! That manifestation happens because there is patronage. There is an entire network that patronises you and they are all hand-in-glove in creating elements like these. So, I think the important thing is to first clean up that system. We have stopped questioning things and this film will provoke you to think.
Today, the society we live in has become hypersensitive. We often react and overreact to events, people, views and cinema, sometimes even without having sufficient information or knowledge about the subject. Don’t you fear making the kind of films you do in such an environment?
Now, I want to become more fearless. I want to be fearless at 50 (laughs!). I believe that the only thing that holds us back from telling stories is fear. Omertà was appreciated at film festivals, where there were also people from Pakistan in the crowd. Some of them are also friends who were upset with me as they felt stereotyped in some way. There was a gentleman from Pakistan, who lives in Canada, and he told me that he wasn’t too pleased with the film. Later, I met him in Italy and over a drink I asked him what the problem was. He said, ‘After making films like Shahid and Aligarh, you are stereotyping people in Omertà’. So, I told him, ‘If I have made films like Shahid and Aligarh, it means that my point of view is much wider. If there is a Shahid Azmi, there is also an Omar Sheikh. Why don’t you see that? I am not saying that all of you are like that. I am not targeting the community. I am targeting people like Omar’. We had that conversation, and over a period of a few days, we revived our friendship. He also saw the film with a fresh perspective. That’s what a film needs to do; it needs to open a dialogue. Even at the Hong Kong International Film Festival, a similar thing had happened. Someone told me that I have presented the American viewpoint of terror. I told them that this is something that the Americans are vocalising now; earlier, Pakistan was their strategic military partner. Now, given so many terrorist attacks in the US, they have begun to take a stance. I’m glad that now we are openly having conversations about this. We have spoonfed our audience for too many years. We have fed them everything, right from the story, back-story to the message. We don’t leave anything untold for them to go back and think. We tell them, ‘Go back home feeling like you’ve seen everything and that you’re happy’.
You have had an interesting journey; you went from directing a food show, television soaps, and feature films to short films. Your first film was Jayate (1999). Post that, you faced several roadblocks and criticism, but eventually, you made it where you are today, with a National Award (for Shahid) on your mantle. What kept you on the beat when the going was tough?
I have faced so many roadblocks that I have stopped seeing them as roadblocks. Now, if I don’t face them, I feel there something is wrong. These obstacles keep my fighting spirit alive (laughs!). It’s been 25 years since I did the show Khana Khazana, and even back then, I always knew that I wanted to make films. In 2002, I made a sex comedy called Yeh Kya Ho Raha Hai, then I made Woodstock Villa and I also made a C-grade sex film. I have made all kinds of films and television shows. As long as the script excites me, I don’t mind making any kind of film. Simran was an attempt to do something different, it had certain lightness to it, but yes, I could have made that film better. For years, I’ve been judged in different ways. I have been judged as a bad filmmaker and as a failure. I have been judged as someone who makes sex comedies and a filmmaker who tries to copy Ram Gopal Varma. I have had names thrown at me, but I don’t care. I will tell stories about the realities that I confront and the stories that excite me, even if it is a comedy. Now, I am planning to make a comedy with Rajkummar Rao.
Talking about sex comedies, do you think that the Indian audience will develop a taste for the kind of sex comedies that we have been seeing in the West, anytime soon ?
Well, I am unofficially the father of sex comedies in India, because I made Yeh Kya Ho Raha Hai in 2002, which was a film inspired by American Pie. I introduced nine newcomers in that film. Post that, films like Masti, Grand Masti and Style were made.
So, in a way, my film started off that phase.
I couldn’t do another sex comedy after that because I didn’t get a script that was bang on (pun intended!) Unfortunately, comedy doesn’t come naturally to us and that’s why every time AIB and others like them make comedy videos, they are met with major opposition, because we are not used to seeing that flavour of comedy. There are so many English shows that I watch and it makes me wonder… if I cannot achieve that natural humour, then I am falling short.
How much does validation at the box office mean to you? The films that you make are not big-budget projects...
For me, commercial success is about making films within the budget. In that sense, Simran was the only film in my career that overshot its budget. That will remain my regret and that is my failure. What I can control are the budgets and the story that I want to tell, because I cannot control the box office.
Even after 25 years, I’m the outsider rather than an industry keeda-Hansal Mehta
8:02 AM
Hansal Mehta on the ‘insular, insulated industry’ that is in desperate need of empathy, why he didn’t want to justify the actions of the protagonist in his upcoming action-thriller, and how Simran was derailed by a public face-off over writing credits
Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; March 20, 2018)
With Omerta, you’ve explored an evil mind for the first time. Were you able to come out of the experience unscathed?
It’s tough because I’ve been travelling with the film to festivals and so I keep reliving the horrific journey of Ahmed Omar Saeed Sheikh (the Brit terrorist of Pakistani descent who is serving time for the kidnapping of western tourists in 1994 and the murder of Wall Street journalist Daniel Pearl in 2002). But cinematically it’s satisfying because Omerta unabashedly presents a villain who forces us to explore our prejudices and the world around us. I describe the film as a brief history of terrorism through one man’s journey.
Mukul Dev pitched Omar’s story to you in 2005, why did it take 13 years to bring to the screen?
The process of writing was long and painful. It was full of fits and starts. I came back from a sabbatical to pitch Omerta but made Shahid instead because it was an easier film to make. I’m glad I did, because had I made Omerta before I met Rajkummar Rao, it would have been a different film. Shahid showcased what we could do together and paved the way for Omar’s story.
Why is Rajkummar so important to Omerta?
He internalised the evil and presented it as a human trait, making it really scary in the process. Omar is not your conventional, over-the-top villain, he’s the Hannibal of terrorism who could be planning how to outwit you even while talking to you.
There’s a sequence just before Omar kidnaps the foreign tourists, when I let Rajkummar loose on the streets of Delhi’s Paharganj area and followed him with a camera. When it plays out on screen, a lot of foreigners who’d interacted with guys like him while walking through Chandni Chowk and Paharganj suddenly found themselves wondering, “What if he’d been Omar?” It’s a chilling thought.
The late Shahid Azmi, who inspired your National Award-winning biopic, had stopped short of turning into another Omar by becoming a lawyer and human rights activist…
That’s why I call Omerta a companion piece to Shahid and would like to re-release the earlier film before this one if possible. Ironically, choosing the righteous path only created problems for Shahid Azmi and got him killed at the age of 32 while Omar who continued with his violent, destructive journey is still alive, under the patronage of the establishment in Pakistan, and for all you know, might be freed this year.
Do the struggles you bring out through films like Dil Pe Mat Le Yaar!, Shahid, Citylights, Aligarh and Simran reflect your own struggles in Bollywood? After Raees actor Narendra Jha’s untimely demise recently you tweeted “this profession is a killer”.
In this industry you see disappointment everywhere because so many are unable to meet the expectations they’ve set for themselves. The pressure of living up to the achievements of their peers takes its toll. Last year alone, so many young lives were lost to heart attacks and kidney failure as mental stress manifested itself in physical illness. We need to be more empathetic by doing something constructive.
Like what?
Counsel people, and impress upon them the importance of self-care. But our film associations are too busy fighting disputes or stopping shoots to worry about the well-being of its members. As it is we rarely discuss health problems because we worry we could lose out on work if people knew. Even I was guilty of this till my wife made regular health check-ups mandatory.
Would you say that a film takes away at least 10 years from an actor or a director’s life?
I have filmed in some really difficult locations in the harshest of weather and that’s never bothered me. For me the bigger struggle is the time between two films, when you are not working.
Since your return from the sabbatical have you felt it was getting too much to handle?
It still feels too much and even after 25 years, I’m the outsider rather than an industry keeda. And that’s the way I like it because it’s an insular, insulated world full of hypocrisy. Thank God for my travels and my wife’s work that keeps me in touch with the real world and drives me to tell the stories I do. Thank God for friends like Rajkummar whose equation with me doesn’t change with Fridays.
In another life I was running an IT company and while that was a struggle too, this business places more emotional pressure on you because your self-esteem depends on praise and criticism. It promotes a herd mentality and takes the artistry out of art. Art is all about expression and it is being repressed because we are scared.
Aligarh courted controversy; aren’t you afraid for Omerta because of its subject?
These things don’t bother me. In fact, I thrive on it. As long as there is a debate, my point is heard along with the counterpoint, I’m okay. It’s when something like what happened with Padmaavat happens that it’s regrettable because it has nothing to do with the film you have made but with what benefits certain fringe elements.
With Simran—the tussle for writing credits between leading lady Kangana Ranaut and writer-editor Apurva Asrani—it went beyond intellectual debate…
That was unfortunate. I have nothing against anyone seeking attention or media space but not at the cost of work. In Simran’s case the film got completely derailed. It was a lesson to me to choose my team of producer, actors and technicians more carefully in the future.
Rajkummar and I have known each other for seven years, we’ve had our differences too but we’ve resolved them by talking and understanding each other’s point of view. Creativity is not about I; it’s about us. And while I’m still struggling to make money, I’ve never struggled to make friends.
You and Apurva go back a long way…
This is very personal and I’ve steadfastly refused to be drawn into conversations on the matter.
Any chance of a reconciliation?
I don’t know. I’m too busy right now to think about it. I’ve always said everyone has their own journey and we have to find that journey on our own.
Simran had a beautiful performance by Kangana…
It did but it went beyond that sparkling performance. It had some spectacular moments and a woman who was unapologetic of her flaws. Simran had a lot more going for it and could have been a greater film but because of what happened people did not see all that. I’m not talking of commercial success here. I’m almost indifferent to that.
Kangana Ranaut in a still from Simran
Any regrets?
Well, it was a difficult year-and-a-half from when we started shooting to the release and it did take a toll. There were times when I asked myself why I had taken this emotional and physical trauma. But today, when I look back, I’m proud of it. Yes, there is some anger and bitterness filed away somewhere and it will remain there. I’m thankful to Rajkummar who brought me out of a self-imposed exile with Shahid and then pushed me out of a really difficult phase with Bose: Dead/Alive.
Rajkummar Rao in a still from Shahid
Omerta premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival two days before Simran released…
(Smiling) Yes, it was a week of agony and ecstasy for me. Life can be amazing!
What was the response to the film after the first screening?
Shocked silence… Some people were really angry and some girls found Rajkummar’s evil avatar sexy in an odd way, something I noticed in Florence too. There were lots of questions because viewers wanted to discuss the state of the world, my point of view and what message I wanted to convey. It had no message really, I left everything open to interpretation.
Someone said we should attack Pakistan but that’s too simplistic a solution. The world needs solutions that grow out of multiple answers and translate into strategies that can put diplomatic, international and military pressure on these dark states to stop aiding terrorism. Omerta is a provocative political thriller that is a call for action against states that harbour terrorists. Top magazines like Variety gave the film very favourable reviews.
A still of Rajkummar Rao from his upcoming next, Omerta
There was also a section of the media that, while raving about Rajkummar’s performance, felt you could have delved deeper to justify Omar’s actions…
That would have turned him into a hero. I made an engaging thriller and left it to the audience to explore. The West celebrates brevity while Indians are always asking for more but that’s something I can live with. There are bound to be detractors and I welcome criticism.
It’s still a very topical film. There are many Omars out there who are still being radicalised, given weapons. I hate calling it jihad because the term has been twisted for political gains and misinterpreted by men like Omar.
You refused to make a hero out of Omar but you made a hero of Subhas Chandra Bose who in his own way also stood up against the establishment?
I’ve always looked up to Bose and Bose: Dead/Alive was my way of chronicling history from a different perspective. While making it I realised that this generation’s knowledge of the freedom struggle is confined to Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru when Bose was actually the revolution and hastened the exit of the British.
I was told that no one watches period dramas so it’s heartening today to see that amidst all the mushy stuff, we’ve found ourselves a large audience that knows what Bose did for India. There are so many such stories waiting to be told.
Tell us about the film on former media advisor to the PM Sanjay Baru’s 2014 memoir The Accidental Prime Minister: The Making and Unmaking of Manmohan Singh?
Initially I was writing the film but under a major time constraint. So, I am involved as a creative producer now, guiding and mentoring the project while debutant Vijay Gutte (who has written it with writer Mayank Tiwari) is directing it. It’s an interesting story with Anupam Kher in a reinvented avatar after 500 films with the huge responsibility of playing someone who was in recent public memory. I’m also excited about having Akshaye (Khanna), a fine, under-utilised actor, in a crucial role.
What happened to the Sachin Tendulkar biopic?
I dropped it because I did not know who to reach out to. But I’ve been working on developing the Ram Jethmalani biopic for Ronnie Screwvala. There’s also a big and exciting action-packed superhero film which is being written. And I’ve acquired the rights to some books, including Shashi Deshpande's Strangers To Ourselves, a relationship drama. My son, Jai, is also on verge of making his directorial debut so it’s a good, even if a tad hectic, time. I hope I live for many more years so I can tell all the stories I want to.
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