Ankit Sakhiya on His Superhit Gujarati Film ‘Laalo – Krishna Sada Sahaayate’: 'This is Not Political; This is Philosophical'
With ‘Laalo – Krishna Sada Sahaayate’ becoming a genuine breakout and pulling Gujarati cinema into the national spotlight, director Ankit Sakhiya speaks to THR India about rooted storytelling, creative truths, and why his film is not about religion
There’s a certain straightforwardness to many regional filmmakers which can be read as a refusal to overcomplicate what doesn’t need embellishment. They aren’t chasing noise or novelty for its own sake. They want to tell a good story, tell it cleanly, and tell it well. That simplicity, however, should never be confused with being simplistic. In the right hands, it becomes precision.
Filmmaker's Ankit Sakhiya’s Laalo – Krishna Sada Sahaayate is proof of this. The Gujarati film has grown into one of the year’s most talked-about successes grossing over ₹50 crore domestically, drawing audiences with its sincerity and emotional clarity rather than spectacle. At a time when Vash Level 2 has already pushed Gujarati cinema further into mainstream view, Laalo signals a continuation — and perhaps a deepening — of that momentum.
In a conversation with The Hollywood Reporter India, Sakhiya reflects on the film’s journey, the appeal of unfussy storytelling, and why a clear heart often makes for the strongest cinema.
Excerpts have been translated from Hindi and edited for clarity:
Q: The film is doing incredibly well and caught all our attention. Let me start with a very simple question: what was the first spark for Laalo? What made you want to tell this particular story?
Ankit Sakhiya: So it was very simple. I wanted to tell one story — a man who is stuck somewhere, trapped in his circumstance, and how he finds his way out. That’s it. We kept asking ourselves: “What happens next? How does he get out?” And then the idea came — what if God appears and talks to him? That’s really how it began. Nothing grand. As we built the plot, we realised: oh, this has a philosophical layer. And as the story connected piece by piece, Laalo took shape.
Q: Have you been keeping track of the audience reactions? People dancing, crying, and doing garba in theatres. Did you ever anticipate this kind of festival-like response?
AS: When we finished the film, we did feel that Krishna... means celebration. Krishna is about joy, utsav, dancing, living. So the film needed that feeling somewhere. That’s why, even before finishing the cut, we recorded the last song and placed it in. Then we shot it. Even the promotional song — Krishna felt like celebration. But honestly, all this became part of the film later. Initially we didn’t think it would explode like this.
Q: In mainstream industries, people keep saying filmmaking has become too expensive and films don’t recover budgets. But I read Laalo was made on a very modest budget and still had a phenomenal box-office run. What creative decisions guide you when you decide your budget?
AS: My thinking is slightly different. I also want to make big films. If a story needs scale, of course money is needed. But the idea that only money makes a film — that’s wrong. People think: “If you have this camera, that equipment, then the film will work.” No. The thought has to be good. The story has to be strong.
If a concept needs ₹200 crore, fine — then maybe we can’t make it. But can we express that idea in ₹10 crore? Or ₹5 crore? Or ₹2 crore? That’s the real thinking.
When I started this film I needed maybe 15 lights and basic equipment. That’s it. Then I realised even that much wasn’t necessary. I could shoot on the street, place my actor on a chair, put that chair in front of a mountain — the mountain is going to be there, we don’t need to pay for it, and still tell the story. I finished this film through pure jugaad. I’m 29. I put in my own money. The only thing we didn’t compromise on was the creative truth. The audience should feel what the character is saying, not how big the frame looks.
Q: So you're saying the idea should be powerful, and the rest can be figured out?
AS: Absolutely. That’s a universal fact.
Q: This year we’ve seen a resurgence of Gujarati cinema in mainstream conversation — whether it’s Vash Level 2 or Laalo. For the longest time, Gujarati cinema was seen as a small regional industry, but suddenly people everywhere are talking about it. Why do you think this shift happened?
AS: I think everyone is finally telling their stories. The films that came — each had something different, rooted, new. Vash did that too. It felt new, it felt ours. Rooted stories work. Like Malayalam cinema, it works because they show their culture and their truth. Laalo worked because people felt: “This is our story. This is about us.”
Q: So it’s linked to authenticity — if we tell our stories honestly, audiences care. But the flip side is: when a film like Laalo becomes a big hit, Bollywood often wants to remake it. Or studios push for sequels, bigger stars, more songs. Do you feel success brings the pressure to commercialise and lose authenticity?
AS: (laughs) It happens, it happens — 110 percent it happens. People already tell me: “Now you have to make a ₹50 crore film!”
About part two — if the story comes, we’ll see. But I want to stay in the creative zone. In Laalo, the Krishna we created, it feels almost divine. Not made by us anymore. If that divinity can’t be repeated truthfully, what’s the point of forcing a sequel? The authenticity won’t come.
Q: A writer recently told me that after one hit, studios only want the same story again. They don’t want something new.
AS: That’s the system, yes — but I’m also my own producer. So I will make what feels right to me. We’re not chasing trends. We know what kind of filmmaking worked for Laalo, and we want to stay true to that. Business and algorithms is something we try to avoid as much as possible.
Q: Your film taps into Krishna bhakti. In today’s political climate, religion and politics often get intertwined. As a filmmaker, how do you ensure that your spiritual story isn’t misinterpreted politically?
AS: It was never political. We didn’t think “Let’s make a film about God, it will work.” When we started, we weren’t Krishna bhakts. Of course we knew about Krishna, but through the film we ourselves went deeper into Krishna — his teachings, the Gita. We understood that when a person is stuck, like our character is, what do people say? “Listen to the Gita.”
It’s not about religion. You can replace Krishna with any God — the message is the same. It’s basic philosophy: if you take action, something will happen. There’s no political angle here. The government has its place, cinema has its place. They give subsidies to all Gujarati films — that helps the industry. We are thankful for that. But this is not political. This is philosophical.
Q: What’s your hope for Gujarati cinema in the next five years?
AS: Good stories. There are so many people like me, so many stories here. Everything is opening up now. Not because of me — but because when one film succeeds, people realise something like this can be made. So many rooted stories will come.
