Twenty years of Omkara. Twenty-five years of Dil Chahta Hai. In July and August our cover star Saif Ali Khan celebrates two milestone anniversaries. These films are foundational texts for contemporary Hindi cinema and turning points in his career.
Talking to The Hollywood Reporter India, during an exclusive shoot powered by Linen Club at Papi in Mumbai, he tells us how movie magic was created and what he wants now — after 33 years of acting. The basic remains the same: to enjoy yourself.
Edited excerpts from the conversation:
THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER INDIA: What is your most enduring memory of working on Dil Chahta Hai?
SAIF ALI KHAN: There are so many memories. With Dil Chahta Hai, one of the earliest memories was Farhan [Akhtar] telling us that it would be live sound and how to act with it. He said things like, ‘When you swallow the water, I can hear it. You can’t do these things in dub, so take your time and figure out how to use your voice.’ It was the first time the discipline of voice acting entered my work.
I heard what Nakul Kamte (audio engineer) was doing with the sound and how it was travelling through the headphones. And creating silence on a set — actual pin-drop silence — was an amazing experience. Almost every technical aspect was new and exciting. The discipline of learning your lines was new too. We used to get notes saying, ‘Please, no figuring this stuff out on the set. Please arrive knowing all your lines.’ To even have lines well in advance was a new thing in those days; people made great films, but a lot of things were written on the morning of the shoot.
And then the warmth among us. We shot in Goa, and we were very civic-minded, I remember that. I remember a memo about the volleyball sequence saying, ‘Please leave the beach slightly cleaner than you found it.’ So, we all picked up garbage that wasn’t even ours and put it in a bin. People were really impressed. That attitude — to filmmaking and to life — was new.
THR INDIA: And what of Omkara?
KHAN: Omkara was a very different kind of experience, but just as exciting. Vishal [Bhardwaj] brought together commercial mainstream actors as well as NSD-trained actors who probably wouldn’t have shared the same cinematic universe otherwise. There was a creative crossover and learning happening. And getting to speak a new language, to dress up as someone so different was really liberating. It kind of set a template for other mainstream actors too, perhaps — not that I was thinking about that at the time. The idea that you could get that haircut and go without the look that’s supporting your ads — my mother even warned me, saying, ‘I hope your director is a sensible and good filmmaker, and this isn’t just a whim’. Loving advice. But Vishal was fantastic.
I remember one incident. I had a very long dialogue in front of a mirror, where my character was speaking to his own reflection about his plans for revenge. I remember Vishal ji asked, ‘Would you mind doing it naked?’ It was exciting, but I was conscious because it was a crowded set. So, I remember saying, ‘If you direct me naked, I’ll do it.’ And he said, ‘No’. So that was funny, even though now when I look back, maybe I should have done it — it would have looked even spookier. I’d do it today, but I have to go to the gym and stuff before. But that was the amusing thing.
There was a long dialogue saying, ‘You haven’t made me bahubali (chief), and I’m going to show you now.’ And I’d be making it very explicit — his ideas of revenge — to the mirror. Last minute, Vishal came up to me, and said, ‘I don’t want you to say any dialogue. I want you to stand in front of the mirror. Smash the mirror yourself and then hopefully it will fracture into these schizophrenic pieces of your face. And then rub the blood from your cut hand across your forehead and anoint yourself. And that’s it.’ And I thought, ‘Yes, this is the whole scene in one shot.’ How economical and clever.
I got to create things that we never would have in the other lovely, fun rom-com type movies we were doing. There was a scene where I’d done some homework — I’d read that Iago (who inspired the character of Langda Tyagi) was perhaps incapable of intimacy with his wife. I asked Vishal about it. He said, ‘No, no — Konkana’s character looks too happy.’ So, that idea was out. But it led to another conversation: should we play the scene right after they’ve made love? He said yes. And we worked in the physical detail — some sweat, slightly out of breath. It was the first time in my career that the ‘moment before’ really mattered. These things, when done properly, you don’t notice. But they have to be thought about and created. That 360-degree preparation — dialogue, physicality, psychology — made me feel, for the first time, like a complete, sort of international actor.
ON FILMS & CRAFT
THR INDIA: Did either film teach you something about the craft that you still use?
KHAN: Well, the sync sound. There’s a whole dimension to performing if you understand how to use your breath, your voice and the swallowing of your own saliva. On a good day, that continues. But sometimes one still forgets and hopes that you can dub something. Both films were lessons I’ve applied constantly since, in ways that are hard to define precisely. Playing a character and realising everyone has a distinctive walk, a distinctive speech — there’s so much that makes us unique. If you can access that, and you have a lovely director who can help, something real can happen.
THR INDIA: Javier Bardem once said his hope was that at the end of his career, if you put all his characters in a room, there would be silence. They’d be so different, they wouldn’t know what to say to each other. Langda Tyagi and Sameer certainly wouldn’t have much to discuss.
KHAN: They might have something to say. It would be a very funny conversation. But I remember doing similar work in a slew of films, similar looks. Somebody even said to me once, ‘If something’s working, don’t change it.’ We continue to be a very superstitious industry — don’t cut your hair, things like that. I remember shooting in a restaurant near where Sea Rock used to be in Bandra [Mumbai]. And there were pictures of Brad Pitt on the wall — 10 different pictures of the same actor with completely different looks.
I’d look at it wistfully and think, ‘One day, I can have a little bit of a wall like that of my own.’ I used to listen to Aamir Khan talk about the character he was playing, and his characters would look so different. I must have been inspired by that.
THR INDIA: Is diversity of roles a priority now when you’re choosing?
KHAN: No, I don’t know what the priority is, you know. There’s a certain freedom and luxury now. But I’ve also noticed that people are more excited or interested in seeing something that is passionately made and is a little different and is about something. Actually, I see a time before Dhurandhar and a time after. It’s up to us whether we catch up or not and wake up or not.
Now what I would like to do is to focus a little more and enjoy whatever that one project is, to kind of commit more to in whatever way. On the other hand, I also think that I just feel really lucky and I want to capitalise on and enjoy whatever attention I get. If somebody’s interested in working with me, I just want to try and get the most out of that as I can. I think I’ve wandered off the point as usual.
THR INDIA: You’re a National Award-winning actor who’s made some great films, but you’ve also been in films that didn’t stretch you. Do you feel like directors aren’t fully exploiting what you can do?
KHAN: No, but I can’t help but shake the feeling that there’s been a lot of movies that have missed the mark because someone or the other has let it down. I’m not blaming anyone. It’s just a bit of weariness sometimes, of thinking, ‘Here was a great opportunity, this movie, and it could have been more.’ You need so many different aspects to come together perfectly to make a film. And then you look back and say, ‘Even five great ones is something as long as somebody said they’ve changed cinema in some ways.’ If Hum Tum created a new genre, that’s also enough to retire on. But it’s so easy to get it wrong. And exhausting at times to watch it happen again. The gap in commercial success between something like Dhurandhar compared to other movies — why is that gap so huge? I don’t know.
THR INDIA: But do you feel stretched as an actor?
KHAN: Cinema is so magical that you can be stretched by doing a coffee ad, if you commit to it. The magic of cinema is that it’s always a stretch; it’s always a bit beyond me. I’ve never been good enough to say, ‘Oh, come on, I’m better than this.’ Because I could always be better in that scene, whatever you’ve given me. I think I finally answered the question properly.
Oh! But I think things are changing. A producer of mine showed me a film; he’s made a Malayalam movie with Chidambaram, this new director. That trailer was captivating. I would love to do something like that also. And I think doing Omkara at least gets you cast in things that require more of you, because people believe there’s something there to draw on. But I think I need to attract more of it and push myself further in this phase.
I’m conscious now that every film should count. That word ‘legacy’ is as overused as ‘incredible’ or ‘iconic’. These are the worst words. But in this phase, the film should matter.
ON WORKING IN THE ’90s
THR INDIA: We both started in the ’90s. That was the Wild West.
KHAN: It was like really earning your stripes. You call it net practice. But it was also survival. There’s a tendency now to make it sound like people got lucky then. I don’t know why I said recently that people are much harsher today and were more forgiving in the past. I don’t think they were more forgiving. It was never easy to make it. It was never easy to do a good film or be a good actor or impress the audience. You only survive if the audience likes you. That’s it. There has to be a good vibe that you give them that makes them not mind watching you again, even after a bad film. Not everyone has it. So, ’90s, cowboy boots to make us taller, and God, no air conditioners. There’s a lot of commitment in those movies. I remember going to the bathroom in Natraj Studios because we didn’t have vans.
THR INDIA: Listen, women didn’t go at all. We just decided we’re not going anywhere.
KHAN: Either not going or developing good skills at somehow managing. A lot of actors I know have developed skills to use the bathroom without, you know, touching anything.
THR INDIA: What was the wildest experience you had?
KHAN: I was shooting with this girl on a very hot day. I was covered in sweat, and doing some dance move on my knees, my trousers were torn, and I was bleeding. This girl wasn’t sweating at all. I asked her, ‘How is it possible?’ And she said, ‘Oh, I’m taking this pill. Do you want it?’ And I said, ‘No, I don’t think I should take a pill that stops me from sweating. It’s the only thing keeping me alive.’
I also remember what Umesh Mehra ji, a lovely director I worked with, said about the lifespan of an actor: By 40 you should probably expect to retire in this profession. So, this early expiry date was pointed out to me. I think our generation definitely helped push that bar.
Then there was a song — I was playing a dance instructor who’s chasing this girl around as we do, traumatising her to show affection. There was some double-meaning dialogue about ‘Mera chuha tum ko kaatega (my rat will bite you)’, whatever that means, sorry. And they said, ‘We want you to pull it out of your pants.’ I asked, ‘What? Okay, but what if it bites me?’ So, they said, ‘They’re not brown rats, they’re white rats, they’re very docile.’
Now I’m not putting that in my pants. So, they said, ‘Well, pretend you did.’ I had to do this step where I’m chasing this girl. I mean, it’s positioned pelvically, and I am stroking it, chasing her. So, that was the ’90s. It was a hot day in Essel World, and this was business as usual. We didn’t have any sex in our movies then — everything was surrogate.
THR INDIA: It was all sublimated.
KHAN: Absolutely sexy stuff. That’s the jokey part but the cool part was actually performing romantic songs and doing a song or dance with a heroine, expressing love and passion through those classic numbers. I mean, you can’t beat that. These remixes have to stop because audiences are getting outraged.
I think my career was also supported by those songs because we had great music in all the films, even in bad movies. There’s a film called Mr. Aashiq (1999). It wasn’t a very popular movie, but the songs made it. “Mera Chand Mujhe Aaya Hai Nazar” was a beautiful song. The music was a big support for us in the ’90s.
THR INDIA: It’s also what makes us unique.
KHAN: Yeah, it’s our culture, and it means a lot to this massive nation outside Bandra, you know, who sometimes think it’s too uncool. In a car on the outskirts of the country — you want to listen to those songs.
THR INDIA: They’re the soundtrack of our lives, really.
KHAN: I’m 55 and I look back and say — it was special. You have to let yourself remember that.
ON SURVIVING THE INDUSTRY
THR INDIA: Is there a passion, a core belief that carried you through all of it?
KHAN: Yes, of course. There was this incredibly strong commitment, the feeling that there is no option except doing this properly. Even if you can’t do it, you still have to try. The approach to a song wasn’t, ‘Oh, I don’t know if this dance step is working.’ You just did it and you worked really hard at it. Sometimes the choreographer would turn the lights off and say, ‘Just, figure it out.’ And then you do it and sweat, and then you wash up again and come back and do it again. It’s not just a job; it’s a way of life, right?
That commitment was clear from the ’90s: this is it. We were a tighter community. We laughed a little more about both success and failure. But the love for it, to wake up in the morning and be excited about what you’re going to do, that hasn’t changed. What’s changed is, now with age, more discipline supports that love. No drinks the night before, early to bed and a 360-degree approach to preparing for the camera. It’s a religion. It’s an ethical behaviour that’s governed by the camera. There’s a value system that’s governed by it. It’s an entire belief system which was imbibed then, and I think that’s what’s taken me through.
THR INDIA: Do you have any overarching ambitions for how your career should go from here?
KHAN: I don’t think you should think about it too much. You can’t help it but it’s one of those things where you just keep at it, from a creative space, trying to do something. Hopefully when you look back, it’s a career where there are real highlights. The press has been really wonderful to me — if I give even a halfway decent performance, they’ve supported it. I’m grateful for that. But what I want now, at 55, is to do a few more good movies. I don’t think much beyond that. For well-being and for my mind, a creative job is really key, and I’m lucky I have that.
I want more quality and I don’t want to compete. You see what other people are doing and can’t help but getting FOMO and wondering, ‘Should I be somewhere else?’
I watched Love Aaj Kal the other day; a film I produced. And it was really good. But I don’t know how present I was while it was going on, because I was always thinking, ‘Well, there’s always someone else making a better movie’, or ‘It can make more money’, or ‘How much?’ I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to be present at my dinner table, in my life, with my family and my work. Just be happy with what you have and enjoy your life in a different way. What else is there, you know?
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SAIF ON SAIF |Staying Detached
THR INDIA: You exude the energy of someone who is successful, hardworking, National Award-winning, but also not too invested in the rat race. There’s a Zen-like detachment. Did you cultivate this or were you always here?
KHAN: There’s two ways of looking at it. One is that I’ve never quite felt I belonged to the inner circle anywhere — and on a bad day, that registers. But the positive version of the same feeling is that there’s a best-of-both-worlds quality to it. I’ve lived in a couple of different countries. I watched my father — how measured he was, how careful around fame. He kept a buffer. I think I absorbed that. I don’t bring work home. I don’t bring home to the set. It’s old-school thinking, but it works for me.
And there’s less greed now. I’m happy with less. You can’t sustain this forever — it’s already been 33 years, and I’m already 55. I don’t like denying your age or pretending things won’t end. I want the next chapter to be good. I feel I have something to contribute. But the short answer is, yes, there is a detachment. And if it comes, it comes. If it doesn’t, that’s fine too. And one day it won’t come anymore. Till then — I want to relax and enjoy it.
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SAIF ON SAIF |Finding purpose
THR INDIA: In an earlier interview, you were asked the purpose of your life and you said, ‘There isn’t any. I’m enjoying...’
KHAN: I was quoting [This is] Spinal Tap (1984), Bob Reiner’s epic classic mockumentary. It’s just the funniest thing. The bass guitarist is asked, ‘What is your philosophy in life?’ And he said, ‘Have a good time all the time’. But look, the purpose of life cannot be to be miserable. Surely it is to feel great. And you can feel great in various ways — some artificial, some ego, some chemical. But the important ones are when you get something back for being kind. Have a good time — what I meant was: don’t take this too seriously. And people responded to it, I think, because they felt, ‘Yes. Exactly.’