Bollywood Writers Battle Mental Health, Cruel Contracts, Contemplate Quitting Amid Historic Slowdown

During the COVID-19 pandemic, Sanjeev Tiwari traded his lucrative data analyst job in Gurugram for a career as a full-time screenwriter in Bollywood. With an IIT Kharagpur background, Tiwari followed in the footsteps of fellow IITians who had made the leap to Mumbai a decade earlier. He began working on a script with a friend, landed a role as an associate writer, and quickly found himself living the Bollywood dream — until it turned into a nightmare.

"I kept waiting for a constant stream of work, based on which I could permanently relocate to Mumbai, but I never got that. My timing coincided with the industry experiencing a slowdown," Tiwari told The Hollywood Reporter India.

The writer packed his bags and moved back to his hometown, Jhumri Telaiya, in Jharkhand. "Existing writers are struggling to find work, so it is unrealistic for a newcomer like me to land a project. I was more eager to move to Mumbai two years ago, but now I will caution everyone to tread carefully."

Tiwari is one of several screenwriters who have either left Mumbai, the Hindi film industry's hub, or are considering relocating due to Bollywood undergoing what insiders are labelling the "driest period" in history.

Over the last few weeks, THR India spoke to multiple insiders and screenwriters, revealing that this tier of talent has been hit hardest, with fewer productions underway and many completed films endlessly awaiting release.

Change in Plans

The current slump of the industry has meant that writers, who get money in tranches as per their delivery, are now without pay. This has forced some of them to relocate within the city, moving to areas where the rent is on the lower side or, in some cases, as has been confirmed by three different writers, turning influencers for Instagram.

"Even ghost writing has stopped paying, so what does one do? Those who are entrepreneurial have now smartly started brand collaborations on Instagram, while others have found other modes of income, such as writing jingles for ads. Everyone now, more than ever, is looking for a primary source of income that isn't screenwriting," said a top screenwriter on the condition of anonymity.

Anu Singh Choudhary, known for penning titles like Mrs and Aarya, said the slowdown can be traced back to fewer box-office hits as well as the "bubble burst" of the OTT boom.

"In the last two years, work has really dried up. The three major revenue-generating sources of the industry, cinema, OTT, and TV, have massively slashed their budgets. While there have been massive budget cuts in everything else, a lot of top-line budgets are still the same. Who takes the hit? The ones on the lower side of the pyramid. There is less work, and then there are pay cuts within that," Choudhary added.

Choudhary, who falls under the 'senior writer' bracket, said the position can offer her work, but payments are now taking longer than usual. She had been working on a big-budget film for the last two and a half years, the script of which was approved only now.

"It should have gone into production already, but we are still waiting for it to go on floors because of the slowdown and budget cuts. In that period, you are not paid. You are not in a retainer arrangement; the tranches are based not on deliverables, but in most cases, approval of those deliverables. What should have been an eight-month payment timeline has stretched to three years, disrupting your finances. If you've turned down other projects for this one big opportunity, you're left without income, stuck in limbo," Choudhary added.

Taking up Side Hustles

Roopal Rashomani Kewalya, whose credits include Netflix's Tooth Pari and Anubhav Sinha's IC 814: The Kandahar Hijack, said the only screenwriting call that has come to her since January is for a show on a streaming platform, but it will take another two months before the work actually begins.

"There is a lot of uncertainty and as writers, it is crucial now more than ever to have a side hustle, which will cover your basic rent and other expenses, which is what accounts for the most in a city like Mumbai," Kewalya said.

"I do content writing and write ad jingles, which takes less time but gives me enough money, so that my rent is covered. None of that is regular work; you have to keep looking for it, and that takes up most of your time. But the difficult part is, when you take on such jobs for money, they start eating into your time of writing that passion project. After a while, you are so exhausted by your new 'side hustle' that you don't have the bandwidth to write your screenplay. That's why many have also quit writing, because they just couldn't sustain it," she added.

Kewalya said she has personally stopped at least four of her peers from leaving Mumbai, as they had no work, promising that the tides will change. But she is aware that even merely hoping for a better time in a city like Mumbai is an act of privilege.

"I wrote a lot in the last two years, but nothing has come out, so I have not been paid fully. Two shows of mine for a big streamer were shelved, and the cycle is, if your work is not releasing, you don't get a new gig. Even if you sign a show, which gets approved, you are unsure if it will be made, and even if it is made, will it ever be released? The uncertainty is so consuming, that if you go down that path, you will find yourself at the bottom of a dark pit. That can be very depressing."

Dealing with Mental Health Issues and Anxiety

The effects of the slowdown are now showing up in conversations, especially among the screenwriters, as contacts of therapists and recommendations of online self-help coaches are being passed around.

"I was on a call with a young writer who was almost suicidal. It is scary; we have come to that stage and it is a terrifying, dark phase now," Choudhary said. Senior members of the fraternity revealed how people who came from a different primary profession to become screenwriters are now quietly moving back to their old jobs.

An industry insider explained that until about two years ago, a lot of IIT graduates were coming into the system, and many of them were finding huge success. Screenwriting was a profession that wasn't paying them an amount equivalent to the corporate gig they had quit, but at least it guaranteed creative satisfaction.

"Now, they are in a position where they can't go back to their consulting jobs and are also way behind their peers. Some lawyers had come to Mumbai to become screenwriters, but have now gone back to their legal jobs. It is tragic. A lot of aspiring screenwriters who were journalists are going back and writing columns, doing research work, or freelancing. While everyone is looking for writers, there is no money to pay them," said the insider.

Choudhary backed the claim and said a lot of her peers are now openly talking about their mental health issues, which is impacting their work and relationships.

"The job that we do is so intimate, it affects us differently. We are constantly transacting with our own emotions and writing out of it. You are constantly depleted of emotions, and there is a sense of insecurity. If the writers are not in a good frame of mind, you will not get scripts on time. A lot of us have not been able to deliver because we are constantly anxious," she added.

Screenwriter Sudeep Nigam feels the problem is not just that the theatrical market is down or that the OTT space has taken a hit, but the contracts of writers are at an "all-time low" right now.

"Last week, I was offered a contract where it was mentioned that I would get 40 percent of my money if the movie goes on floors. And the entire fee was peanuts, so 40 percent of that was humiliating. The producers say, 'We can't spend more than this upfront.' But what is upfront? Aren't you getting the script in return? They go to a particular actor on basis of the draft I write and sign the star, so why is there so much reluctance to pay us?" asks Nigam, who has penned shows like Avrodh, Buried Truth: The Indrani Mukherjea Story and The Indian Predator.

Trouble for Bollywood

Anjum Rajabali, Chair of the Contracts Committee at the Screenwriters Association of India (SWA), said young writers are feeling vulnerable due to the "sustained uncertainty with unsympathetic employers".

Recalling his early days, Rajabali said that when he began writing films, he didn't let go of his day job for five years until he knew that he had found his place in the industry and would be able to get regular work. Some of his early works include Ghulam (1998), China Gate (1998) and Kachche Dhaage (1999), among others.

Anjum Rajabali

"But a lot of them don't have day jobs, so that becomes difficult in the current climate. Nobody is giving writers a safety net, and none of the studios are saying they will keep them on a retainer. They are only looking at the balance sheet."

Rajabali, however, said he can sense a rebelling brewing within the community, one that the industry won't be able to contain if—and when—it explodes.

"This kind of disheartenment, this pain, is beginning to morph into anger. That might mean trouble for the film industry. When you want to make films, you will need stories and then this anger will show itself. This is going to cost us."

The SWA is fighting for Minimum Basic Contract (MBC), which involves ₹13 lakh as the minimum fee for a full script, ₹4 lakh for a story, ₹5 lakh for a screenplay and ₹4 lakh for dialogue. But it hasn't been an easy ride.

"The outrage will only grow," Rajabali said, noting that writers have been further crippled with an "indemnity clause" by the producers, which effectively means if the project courts controversy, it is on the writer to defend it and pay for damages.

"When the writers object, they are told by the makers, 'No, it is just for the sake of writing, we are not going to implement this.' But you are showing the power and making the writer so anxious. How can there be any creativity then? They feel scared to even write a word," Rajabali added.

What one does to come out of the gloom and doom of the industry depends on the support system one is surrounded by. While waiting is an option for some, many like Choudhary wonder if the grass will be greener on the other side.

"I always ask myself: despite my privilege and a solid support system, if I feel down and out, feel like quitting and giving up, what happens to people who don't have the support system? I sometimes really wonder if I should go back to doing my PhD, and if I will be healthier. It is not about escapism, but how much of it can you really endure? What is the cost of it? Is it worth it?" Choudhary said.