The production of Thiagarajan Kumararaja’s latest project, 

, marks a significant return for a filmmaker who is known for his incredible vision and long gaps between films. For lead actor Vijay Sethupathi, the experience is defined by his deep appreciation for the director’s unique process.

As the cameras finally roll on their latest collaboration, in conversation with 

, Sethupathi shared, “We’ve started the shoot. It’s going fantastic. I’m enjoying every day.” 

His joy comes from the reverence of watching a master at work. “I love the way this man executes his films.” He speaks of a respect for his craft that is so profound that he even took his son to the sets of Kumararaja’s 

When asked if he often visits directors on set to watch, he said, “No.. some of the directors I love, I just go to sit (on their sets). But I don't spend too much time there because I don't want to spoil their set," talking about how it is a rare opportunity to witness Kumararaja at work, making the situation different.

Exclusive | Vijay Sethupathi on Thiagarajan Kumararaja's 'Pocket Novel': ‘I Am Enjoying Every Day Of Filming’ 


For Vijay Sethupathi, looking back at his career is acknowledging the number of full circles he seems to have completed. Moments that seemed like mere life experiences years ago have now become the foundation for his work across multiple Indian film industries.

Now known for his versatility across films in different languages, Sethupathi questioned how far cinema could take him initially. Early in his career, he expressed this concern to director M. Manikandan (who also directed his latest project, 

) while working with him on a short film.

, he recalls telling the director, “As a technician, you could go anywhere in the world and work. But as a South Indian face, I didn't think I could cross the Tamil industry as an actor.”

However, the bridge to his future had started building years before that. During a stint working in Dubai, he remembers his boss giving him an ultimatum: “Count the money in your hands and learn Hindi quickly.” At the time, he spent about six months learning the language. What he never realised was that it would eventually help his entry into Hindi cinema.

Today, those circles are complete. Having started his film journey through a Kannada film, Sethupathi has now worked across Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam and Hindi cinema. He believes that working in different languages is an experience of immersion. “To go somewhere and understand the people, language and culture, to be one among them and know their story, is a different kind of experience,” he explains.

Exploring new cultures is not something he wants to stop exploring anytime soon. He recalls receiving an offer to work on a Gujarati film, and while working on the film 

(2025), he even expressed interest to director Kishor Pandurang Belekar about potentially exploring Marathi cinema. For him, it is the story that matters most.

Vijay Sethupathi: ‘I Didn’t Think a South Indian Face Like Mine Could Cross The Tamil Film Industry’

Having spent 22 years establishing himself in front of the lens, Vijay Sethupathi is increasingly transparent about his interest in taking over the director’s chair one day. He’s already a producer, lyricist and screenwriter, having co-written 

(2015). But in a candid conversation with

, he revealed that while the desire to direct is real, he is refusing to put pressure on it.

“I just want to direct, just to try,” Sethupathi says, talking of his directorial vision stemming from a more personal place. “I want to put my money and make a film. If it’s good, we’ll release it, or I’ll just keep it with me.”

He admits that his view of watching cinema has shifted. “When I started, I used to watch films as an actor. Now I’m trying to understand from the point of view of a director also.” He also recalls always having written short stories, tales that he still narrates to his children today, “I have told them about 10 to 15 stories… Publishing companies have asked for them, but I didn’t give it to them; I thought, let it be for my children.” 

His experience with writing makes him someone who understands the flow of a story, even if he hasn’t found the right one to personally direct yet.

When asked if he has a timeline, the actor said that he is avoiding putting any deadlines on it. For him, the joy of directing comes from the lack of any pressure. “Wanting to direct is to have fun with it. Why should I spoil that by giving it a deadline?” Sethupathi is intent on this opportunity coming his way when it’s meant to, “I am fixing my own deadlines in life."

For him, the transition to directing is a gradual process. There is no genre in mind, no directorial style, only observing the craft and a refusal to turn his passion for art into a chore.

Vijay Sethupathi on the Prospect of Directing: 'I'm Trying To Watch Films From a Filmmaker’s POV'

A month before the cameras rolled on the upcoming JioHotstar series 

, Vijay Sethupathi drove down to Usilampatti, a town an hour away from Madurai, upon getting a call from director M. Manikandan. What awaited was not a table read or rehearsal, but some 

To anyone else, this may sound like a casual hangout, but to Sethupathi, it is work.

The actor has long believed that the kind of understanding required between a director and an actor cannot be manufactured on the spot; it must develop gradually by getting to know each other. Despite calling it “free time”, the hours he spends with these directors are anything but. 

, comparing the dynamic to a friendship, he said, “If you know somebody for a month, you know you have a subconscious understanding of what that person likes and how he thinks, you know that it will happen automatically.”

His approach to the characters he plays and their stories is deliberately open. Understanding the director’s vision, he reiterates, is always the main focus. Everything else, the choices, instincts, improvised moments, orbits around it or is a result of it. He is, however, careful to distinguish the trust he puts in his directors from blind faith. “It is not blind because I know them. I know their capabilities, their sincerity, their responsibility.”

It is this philosophy that has shaped some of his most compelling performances in contemporary Indian cinema. And nowhere else has it had the time to grow deeper than his relationship with Manikandan, whom he has known since 2008.

n came together, they had a solid foundation of trust. What Sethupathi describes with great admiration, of Manikandan on set, is a director who believes restraint is a creative instrument. “He doesn’t do anything, that’s the magic. He just lets you be,” Sethupathi said. The direction comes in precise, minimal words as casually as one would talk to a friend. He believes Manikandan has cracked the code on how to tap an actor. Their other collaborations include 

What remains between them after all these years is the element of surprise that comes from the ideas that sprout in the moment. “While performing a scene, we can’t really control every nuance, we just take it, and we perform, and whatever happens in between the lines comes automatically”, he adds about still being able to surprise the director, 18 years in.

Exclusive | Vijay Sethupathi on 'Kaattaan' And Working With Manikandan: 'He Lets You Be, That’s The Magic'

When AR Rahman asked Alexander Babu to perform at his concert in Chennai, the standup comedian recalls being transfixed. For Babu, who has been delivering comedy through the sharp and indelible lens of a love for Tamil classical and film music, the answer was a no-brainer, even if the concert day collided with a private family observance. His rendition of Shahul Hameed's 'Rasathi', which was happily lapped up by fans at the venue and on the internet, marked a full circle for Babu.

, the popular comedian talks to us about his admiration for Rahman, writing comedy to reflect the political realities of society and his future work. 

What was it like to perform with AR Rahman?

It was quite surreal. I was moved by the whole thing. My wife has been manifesting that I meet Rahman sir for the longest time. I was called to interview him and was completely starstruck. I know about his generosity. He always sticks to love. He has been very graceful. Beyond music, too, I have always been inspired by how he carries himself. He keeps art above everything, and that is inspiring. I was moved to tears various times during the interview.

I don't know if this made it to the edit, but in a moment in the interview, I said he looked like a saint in the concert's poster. He was referring to the recent trolls and said, "Right now, I am more of a sinner than a saint."

He casually remarked,"Why don't we have Alex come and sing?" I think his team was saying something along the lines of the songs being cut down. He said "Illa, paathukalam pa."

He asked me if I'd be free on the day of the concert, but I had something else on February 14. It was my father's first death anniversary. My whole family was supposed to travel to my hometown and spend a day there. My brother was coming from Singapore. But this flashed into my mind very quickly — my father is a music lover. He introduced MSV and Sirkazhi to me. It was like my father was offering this gift on his anniversary.

My family flew down to Chennai, and I got them VIP lounge tickets. We went to the church in the morning and had our prayers. The evening was about celebrating music. It was an overload of emotions.

(grandfather) was also involved in playing harmonium and singing in the church. But nobody learnt it formally. Nobody knew 

 or pitch. He was in many ways passionate about singing 'Rasathi'-like songs. His throw was like that.

You're accustomed to one kind of stage, but this was different. How was it singing 'Rasathi'?

I've been singing the song since my college days. Like in my Wonderland shows, when I tell audiences that SPB is going to come next, I modulate my voice a little and put on a little accent, the audiences are tuned to hear him.. and then, they hear SPB.

'Rasathi', with its folk and modern touches, doesn't fit in any conventional genre. It's so earthy and new. It is such a special song. I've been training for a while, but I'm not on pitch every time I come on stage. I missed a cue for one of the lines. I was lost because at some point I thought somebody else was going to sing! On my stage, there is some leeway. Singing music is very different. Once you take your earplugs off, it feels like you're in a ghost bungalow. I experienced that for the first time.

Tell us about developing an interest in Carnatic music?

My father was fascinated with these complicated songs of TMS like 'Paatum Naane' and 'Isai Tamil Nee Seidha'. My brother would bring me a lot of Yesudas tapes. I also realised there's a structured way to learn anything. I took the Tabla with me to the US and started learning. I was jamming over the weekend in the Bay Area in light music. 

Carnatic training started when I was in my mid 20s. I've been learning on and off. The passion for good music and stand-up took me to all these different crowds.

You speak about being a Christian and learning yoga and Carnatic music. Are people still surprised by this fact about you?

There is still this lack of clarity in the way you interpret things. Like, for instance, sometimes people say, "If you say Om, you don't believe in Jesus Christ anymore." Unless you realise the means are many and the truth is one, that's where anything extreme comes in. Anything extreme doesn't do you any good. I get some comments saying you can't sing other songs. But there's a lot more acceptance. Sometimes I also see what I only want to see.

I have a lot of friends who are priests, who I called to watch my Madurai show. My school teacher, who is a Jesuit priest, came to the show where I was singing 'Mariamma.' I made a call where I made them sing along! There are enough people who see humanity in all these things. We live in a divisive time. 

How important is it to address the hard political realities of our country and society for you as a comedian?

It is important. I didn't start my journey thinking comedy is a tool and that I should do what the world needs. I wanted to get on stage and get claps initially. But somewhere you shift. In troubled times, art keeps the conversation going. You may be trolled, but something happens there. There is some reason why I'm working in this field, and you reflect in your own way. I might never be correct or perfect.

Some people tend to say, 'Stick to comedy, man.' But you realise everything is comedy until it is about you. Everything is a joke until it's about you.

Having said that, art is a huge shield. If I'm attacked, my jokes aren't strong. I have to take the hit and say, "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, but that's how I felt." The followers reduce, which has happened a few times... but we are not here to increase follower count. We are here to speak the truth and not hate anybody.

But you can't force it on every artist. Sometimes I don't force it on myself. When I write something, I ask myself, "Is this what I'd want to tell my children?" and then write it for them. The whole audience is an extension of my family. In a way, this has become a policy.

What you’re doing is very niche, which is comedy with music. How did you realise there would be takers for it?

I was married and had kids by the time I started doing 

 in open mics, which were filled with young crowds. I was writing comedy around girls and makeup and all that. I was trying to write what the guys wanted to hear that evening, but my friends told me, "You write what you want to write about."

Somewhere, I realised I love singing. Also, religion was such a taboo thing, so how do we talk about it? How do we bring in terminology? It's ok to say I am a Christian and talk about what this life is, so that there is conversation about who we are and what we are. There is always diversity that has been driving me. 

During the Harris Jayaraj set, I also sang a few lines; I had fun and it was a huge hit. After that I decided to write about Rahman and Ilaiyaraaja too; that's how 

happened. The apprehension was definitely there. But it just worked and brought in an audience. 

I keep telling myself I need to be ready to fail, but the hard work has to be there. The next set I'm writing about success and its dangers. Success is all about doing something better than other people. But happiness is different and important. 

I not only watch comedy, but many situations make me laugh. That can even be playing with kids and whatever they say... all that cracks me up. I like Gopi Sudhakar in Tamil. I like Robin Williams and can watch Jim Carrey clips any day. And of course, always Crazy Mohan and Nagesh bits.

Can you tell us about your future projects? 

I'm writing my next show. The plan is to start touring before the end of the year. I will start announcing once I get some content ready. I'll also start doing some tester shows.

Can we see you in films because I know you love acting?

I love acting, and this year is a beautiful time if somebody gives me an opportunity. I'll happily go if there is a shorter opportunity, but if there is a role that demands four months; I guess I can't do that because the stakes are high. If I want to tour the US, I have to book theatres a year ahead. If I want to be there in March, I have to premiere in India at least by December, which means the test show should start by September, which means the tour will be complete by August... so I'm already late!

Comedian Alexander Babu on Performing With AR Rahman and Comedy During Divisive Times: ‘Everything Is A Joke Until It's About You'


Priyanka Arul Mohan has had a curious couple of years recently. On one hand, she’s been part of successful actioners like 

; blockbusters that paired her with popular leading men and established her as an A-list south Indian star. On the other hand, reports of an organised marketing campaign against her did the rounds, as audiences felt she was being unfairly criticised (and targeted) online for her performances. 

Priyanka maintained a dignified silence through it all; she bounced back with one of the most popular songs last year ('Golden Sparrow' from

) and now, headlines Netflix’s Tamil drama 

, in which she plays a small-town girl holding on to one wholehearted dream: of travelling to South Korea.

Written and directed by Ra.Karthik, the film follows Priyanka’s character of Shenba, whose obsession with Korean culture and K-dramas sees her unexpectedly land up in Seoul one day, setting off a journey of self-discovery and new relationships.

Sharing screen space with actors such as Park Hye-Jin (of 

 fame) and No Ho‑jin, Priyanka has clearly had a blast working on the film, as she talks all things Korean, dealing with noise on social media, and more.

Seven years since your debut in the industry, you get to front a film as the solo lead in a coming-of-age drama. Does it feel like a milestone, or does it represent something larger about women telling their own stories in cinema?

Actually, people were sending me scripts for a while, but I wanted to do something different. Initially, I was a little skeptical; I wasn’t sure whether audiences would accept me in a certain way, or whether I had achieved enough for people to trust me with a project where they’re investing money and building a film around me.

But when a script like this came my way, I really couldn’t say no. I feel that for many women in the industry, there’s always that one film that can change their graph; I see this film as that opportunity for me.

, I got to explore and learn a lot while shooting. So I think it’s the right film for me to start this new phase in my career. 

Have you visited Korea before or watched any K-dramas? What was your perception of Korean culture before making the film?

This was actually my first time going to Korea. Before that, I had watched a couple of K-dramas during the lockdown and I really loved them. But after that I didn’t keep up regularly, mostly because of work.

When this project came to me, I thought I should brush up a little. I started re-watching a few shows and also checked out some new ones. I was curious about why there’s such a big obsession with Korean dramas in India, and why so many people — especially girls — are so crazy about them.

At the same time, I didn’t want to do too much research beforehand. I wanted to discover the culture as I went there and experienced it during the shoot, and found a lot of similarities (with us). That’s when I really understood it better.

Shenba (my character) actually knew much more about Korea than I did.. she’s a big fan! For me, it was a learning process once I went there. 

Did you get a chance to learn any Korean during the process? Can you say anything in Korean now, or understand the language better?

After coming back from Korea, I can now actually watch some K-dramas without constantly relying on subtitles. I’m able to understand bits of what they’re saying now.

But if you ask me to form full sentences, I can’t really do that yet! I know a few basic words like 

 (Thank you) and some other simple expressions we picked up during the shoot, but I’m still not at the stage where I can speak the language properly.

The reason K-dramas work so well globally is because they’re mostly feel-good and ‘swoon-worthy’ as hardcore fans would put it. Would you say your film also falls into that space emotionally?

The film is really about self-discovery and the bonds the protagonist forms during her journey. It’s very much a slice-of-life story.

It’s about a girl who goes to a different country and what she learns from the people there, and also what she gives back to them. So the heart of the film lies in that experience and those relationships. That’s why I’d describe it mainly as a slice-of-life film.

You recently addressed the trolling you faced online, and how many actors across generations deal with this now. But do you think it actually affects an actor’s marketability or career, or is it mostly just noise on social media?

Honestly, it does affect you to a certain extent. I wouldn’t say it affects everything, but it does have some impact.

At the same time, I believe that whatever is meant for you will come to you, no matter what. Even if something affects your career or market temporarily or someone tries to pull you down, the work that’s truly meant for you will eventually find its way to you.

If someone genuinely likes you and your work, they will come back to you somehow. If a film is meant for you, it will find its way to you. So I believe that nobody can completely stop someone’s journey or spoil their career. 

What can you tell us about your other upcoming releases?

 is up next, and both the films will be released this year. I’m really looking forward to them!

Made In Korea premieres on March 12, on Netflix

Exclusive | Priyanka Mohan on 'Made in Korea' and Online Trolls: 'A Film Meant For You Will Somehow Find Its Way To You...'

Kareena Kapoor Khan, Ananya Panday and Kalyani Priyadarshan Channel Their Main Character Energy

The Internet couldn’t get over how cool Akshaye Khanna looked when he walked into the frame in 

, with Flipperachi’s “FA9LA” playing in the background; the way his shawl swayed as he danced, the sunglasses that added a hint of charisma, and of course, the black Pathani.

This is how cinema has always worked: long before the audience knew the designers’ names, they remembered the moments (who can forget Sridevi’s chiffon saris billowing in the wind?). But for decades, costume designers in Indian cinema have existed in a strange paradox: central to how films are remembered, peripheral to how films are made. In the hierarchy of fashion, costumes have long stood below couture. Within film sets, it has often stood below all else.

Smriti Chauhan, the costume designer behind Khanna’s look in 

, puts it bluntly. “A director would know who his production designer and director of photography are, but will the costume designer ever be the first head of department hired? Definitely not.”

This invisibility is not accidental; it is systemic. Designer Manish Malhotra, in an interview with 

last year, described an industry where costumes were once treated as afterthoughts. “There were no scripts provided, and producers didn’t regard costume designers as integral to storytelling; they saw us as merely catering to actresses,” he said. “Payment was minimal, sometimes not even (given), and respect for the profession was scarce.”

“The way this starts is small,” Chauhan explains. She still hears things like, “It’s just a costume, we’ll manage it in a week.” Her timeline, she says, is almost always decided by someone else.

season one, Chauhan recalls an email informing her of the colour palette for her costumes. When she asked who had decided it, the answer was simple: “

“I understand their [the director of photography and production designers] involvement, but why is the costume designer not part of that meeting?” she asks. “Who is creating that visual language for the people in the frame?” She also shares that Richie Mehta, the show’s director, is a close friend — and since that incident, she’s never been left out of these conversations. But for most costume designers, this inclusion remains the exception.

Research, for Chauhan, is paramount. For 

, director Aditya Dhar’s only brief was Pathanis; Chauhan handled the rest, researching regional variations rooted in Lyari, where the film is set. She reveals that Khanna was unsure about how the Pathani silhouette would look on him.

“We were shooting in Leh and for Akshaye sir’s song we made two options — one in linen and one in a thick silk fabric,” she says. “In our first few meetings he told me he feels very cold, so I kept a warmer option.” For 

, she spent hours at the INA police station in New Delhi, observing and talking to inspectors.

, says, “People don’t realise the extensive amount of background work, research, sketching, fabric picking, silhouette selection that goes into designing a character. Most often, we design a character which includes hair, make-up, wardrobe, and even body language.”

While she created her own visual narrative for 

, she turned to her family’s albums for 

. One detail she recalls vividly is adding a knife to Gulshan Devaiah’s denims. “He wore it every day, despite knowing that there was no scene showing him using it. It made him feel like [his character] Atmaram,” she explains. “That’s important for it to translate into the correct body language.”

But can she predict what will go viral? “Absolutely not,” she says with a laugh.

The struggle for recognition has played out differently across India’s film industries. In Hollywood, there’s even a separate category for those who distress garments — breakdown artists — who receive their own credit.

In India, however, until Manish Malhotra arrived on the scene, they went entirely uncredited.

“Down South, the idea of costume designers came in way later than even Bollywood. The biggest stars down south still have costumers,” Chauhan says. Neeraja Kona, who has done close to 100 films, predominantly in the Telugu and Tamil film industries, says that she was among three costume designers when she started in 2012.

“There was a demarcation between the people coming in from Bollywood and the ones working here. Over time, the importance seeped in,” she explains. “But earlier, whenever we were given a reference, it used to be from a Bollywood film. We were always looking up to what they were doing and recreating that here.”

Similarly, Anu Vardhan, one of the first female designers in South Indian cinema, who began her career with 

(2001), recalls how art directors once doubled as costume designers. “People just picked things up because they looked nice. The clothes weren’t character-driven.” Over time, she notes, South Indian films have developed more nuanced design, complete with detailed references.

In the South, the relationship between stars and designers has evolved differently. “I personally style Nani, so if he’s doing a film, they suggest my name to the director,” Kona explains. “The film I’m working on now stars Srinidhi Shetty and Venkatesh. I style Srinidhi, so I’m doing the entire film as well.”

Styling big stars comes with its own challenges. Vardhan, who recently worked with Ajith Kumar in 

days. “Ajith wants everything to be very subtle and classic. But [director] Adhik [Ravichandran] had a different sensibility,” she says, adding that while it was outside her and Ajith’s comfort zone, the director’s vision had to be balanced.

Budgets and recognition have evolved, though slowly. Kona says, “Yes, they now understand what we’re spending it on. I’m also talking about the remuneration of stylists themselves.” She adds, “I’ve seen the differences come about in the salaries, and it’s a good sign.” Chauhan echoes this by adding that costume design is a strenuous job and after a certain age, sustainability becomes difficult. “So, many do commercials and ad films to pay the bills,” she says.

Besides compensation, Kona points to the question of legitimacy. For years, Telugu film posters listed only the chief technicians — the director, producer, music director, editor. Costume designers were never included. “The first time I saw my name was five or six years into my career.” It was for the Sivakarthikeyan-starrer 

. “It’s a very small thing,” she adds, “but for a technician, it’s huge.”

Work that demands such research and precision is far from easy. As Bajaj points out, many newcomers from reputed fashion colleges enter the industry expecting glamour — shopping, designer wear, and celebrity. Instead, they are often confronted with long hours, logistics, and operation-heavy work. Many grow disillusioned after spending days seated in tailors’ shops.

There is also a long-standing hierarchy between couture and costume design, despite the comparable labour involved. In an interview with 

 last year, designer Tarun Tahiliani remarked, “Serious designers do not design for movies,” reflecting the perception that cinema costumes occupy a lower rung than fashion design.

Vardhan says that while some films offer opportunities to showcase striking clothes, most are ultimately character-driven, leaving limited scope for fashion-led expression. Kona, however, sees value in fashion designers entering costume design, especially for period films or era-specific narratives.

While the technical process may overlap, the intent differs. Fashion design allows for time, freedom, and personal expression. Costume design operates within constraints — budget, schedules, and narrative.

Designer Vikram Phadnis, who has worked extensively in both fields, explained the distinction to 

 succinctly: “A fashion designer has to think of the consumer. It must feel as good as it looks. Costumes can be larger than life but you can use cheaper fabric because it has to look good.”

The fabrics may be different, the hours longer, and the recognition slower to arrive, but the shift is undeniable. Costume designers are no longer content to remain invisible.

They’re demanding their place in pre-production meetings, fighting for proper credits on posters, and insisting their work be recognised as essential to storytelling.

Because if clothes make the man, and in films, the character, it is these designers who give shape, texture, and life to that vision — and the industry is finally beginning to see what audiences have known all along.

To read more exclusive stories from The Hollywood Reporter India's February 2026 print issue, pick up a copy of the magazine from your nearest book store or newspaper stand.

From 'Dhurandhar' to 'Toxic': Bollywood's Biggest Costume Designers Pull Back the Curtain 

In his early 20s, Aditya Rawal’s life resembled the interval point of a film. He stood at a crossroads, torn between two things he loved deeply: football and cinema. Both promised possibilities, but one called louder. Choosing meant letting the other go. Rawal chose acting over the goalpost and some of that past still bleeds into his performances today. Raw, hungry, and a chameleon on screen, he carries the residue of that decision with him.

“The first two or three years were heartbreaking. I was a goalkeeper and the other goalkeeper in that setup was Gurpreet Singh Sandhu. Today, he’s the captain of India. Imagine watching someone you played alongside go on to play in Europe and captain the country while you’re starting a completely new field!” laughs Rawal as he looks back on the journey that eventually led him to 

(2022), and two breakout performances this year in Prime Video’s 

Born to actors Paresh Rawal and Swaroop Sampat, Aditya grew up surrounded by films. His grandfather loved Alfred Hitchcock, while his father was a fan of the Coen Brothers, and their films were almost always playing at home. Such was his grandfather’s passion for cinema that, Aditya says with pride, he learned Bengali in his thirties just so he could properly watch the films of Ritwik Ghatak and Satyajit Ray.

“So that was the ecosystem I grew up in,” he says, adding that his movie diet also included Indian classics — including his father’s National Award-winning 

(1993), which shaped his early understanding of cinema.

, Aditya Rawal talks about growing up around cinema, navigating the realities of the industry, and why writing and theatre remain central to the kind of artist he hopes to become. 

What’s your headspace like right now, with 

It's very gratifying to know that you’ve done a good job in something that’s connecting with people. When I first took up the part in 

—after the auditions and everything—I was a little scared. These kinds of roles can go really wrong. But I trusted Amrit and Suresh sir completely. 

was the most difficult character I’ve played—it’s so dark and disturbing. 

was just as challenging but it was the most fun I’ve had on a set. Watching people like Anil Kapoor and Suresh Triveni work is incredibly inspiring. Their passion and hunger to prove themselves—even after everything they’ve achieved—is unbelievable. Not once did I feel tired on that set. If I did, I’d just look at them and the energy would come back.

came out in 2020. How would you describe the last six years?

It’s funny to think about. For the most part it’s been gratifying. I’m admittedly not very good with PR. My social media presence barely exists. So while the huge public recognition might not always be there, what I’ve had is appreciation from people whose opinions I respect—people I’d love to work with. Sometimes those conversations turn into opportunities, sometimes they don’t because the money bags don’t think it’s viable. But that’s part of the process.

Overall I’ve stayed very motivated. Of course there are peaks and troughs. There are moments where you feel on top of the world and then moments where you’re like, “

But I have writing and theatre. I always have something to wake up for. I remember a joke: why don’t actors look out the window first thing in the morning? Because then what will they do for the rest of the day! That problem I never had. I genuinely enjoy telling stories—whether as a writer or actor, on stage or on film.

You’ve seen the ups and downs of the industry closely at home through your parents’ careers. What did you learn from that?

From my father, I’ve learnt to put my head down and keep working. From my mother, the same thing—but you can do it with a smile on your face.

In the ’80s my father had a great start. In the ’90s he was still doing good work and getting appreciation, but often doing things he wasn’t passionate about. At the same time I could see the passion he put into theatre. He always filled his time with either something that would run the house or something that gave him creative satisfaction. Seeing that made me realise it’s all about the work.

The other thing about him is that he’s never been enthralled by the trappings of fame or power. Even when he was an MP, he let go of privileges people normally crave. The less you want, the more powerful you are. If you’re not bothered about the frills, it’s only about the work. That’s what I learned from him.

Does growing up in that environment keep you grounded?

I suppose so. People talk about nepotism, but our biggest advantage is that we’ve seen the process up close. We know everything is temporary. Most of it is noise. My father cuts it out completely. I don’t think you can afford to do that today—you have to be on Instagram and things like that. It’s marketing. If you’re good at it, great. My job is to maintain my mental sanity and learn how to deal with it.

Even when some of your projects were not releasing, many filmmakers, including Hansal Mehta and Anurag Kashyap, spoke highly of you. What does that kind of validation mean?

It gives you immense confidence. It’s not like your life changes overnight and you start feeling like you’re flying in the sky. But when people whose work you admire—people you grew up watching—say that you’re doing good work, it means a lot. I grew up watching Hansal Mehta and Anurag Kashyap’s films. So if they say “isko kaam aata hai,” that’s the biggest validation.

In fact those names you mentioned have also given me opportunities. 

 was presented by Kashyap sir. Suresh Triveni and I met during COVID and started writing something together before 

happened. There are many such moments. Sometimes a director hears about you through a casting director, sometimes someone has seen your work somewhere. You just have to be patient. If it comes, great, if not, I will focus on theatre!

When did you realise you could be an actor? And does the writer in you ever clash with the actor?

There’s never really a conflict. They go hand in hand. After spending months on set—hair, makeup, being around a hundred people—I crave the opposite: waking up, sitting at my desk and writing. Being an actor makes you a better writer and vice versa.

I always knew I could act. I did school plays, theatre in college. But while I was playing football seriously, I started writing a lot. I thought I’d mostly be a writer—screenplays, plays, poetry—and occasionally act.

I was around 18–20 when I started writing seriously. I loved the process: thinking about stories while walking, hanging out with friends, constantly building narratives in my head. I also got the right kind of feedback, from my parents and from people like screenwriters Abhijat Joshi and Soumya Joshi. Nobody said, '

.' They just said, 'you have something, keep working.' For an 18-year-old, that’s the right motivation.

What was the first film set you remember being on?

 in 2012 (starring his father). I was basically a glorified intern for one schedule! It was enough to make me realise I didn’t want to be an assistant director. I’d rather write. Growing up, though, most of my exposure to my parents’ work was through theatre rehearsals, not film sets.

You also wrote two films your father acted in. What was that experience like?

(2022). One was based on his play, so that was already written. The other was something I wrote when I was at NYU. Seeing something you wrote as a student eventually get made was amazing, even if it didn’t have the ideal release circumstances.

Working on it deepened our relationship. The banter was still there, but it was lovely collaborating on something in depth. You also learn that making a film is not just about writing or acting—it’s about navigating personalities, relationships, and processes. Knowing when to say what matters a lot.

Aditya Rawal on 'Subedaar', Father Paresh Rawal’s Influence and Navigating His Own Path in Bollywood

There are few fictional characters whose afterlife has been as prolific as Sherlock Holmes. Since Arthur Conan Doyle first introduced the detective in the late 19th century, the character has migrated across continents, languages and media with remarkable durability. In India, Holmes has long enjoyed a particularly devoted readership and viewership, his razor-sharp deductions echoing through everything from paperback translations and school library shelves to television adaptations and film screenings.

With that history comes a certain weight of expectation. Each new Holmes inevitably enters into conversation with the ones before him — whether it’s the definitive television portrayal of Jeremy Brett, the modernised brilliance of Benedict Cumberbatch, or the swaggering Victorian adventurer played by Robert Downey Jr. in Guy Ritchie’s films.

, a coming-of-age take on the legendary detective that traces his early years at Oxford and imagines the formative relationships that shaped him. At its centre is Hero Fiennes Tiffin, who takes on the daunting task of playing a younger version of literature’s most famous detective — long before the deerstalker, the violin and the Baker Street address have fully taken shape.

, Fiennes Tiffin speaks about stepping into the long shadow of Sherlock Holmes, collaborating again with Ritchie after 

, and why the show’s most radical twist might prove its most compelling idea yet.

: What was your first reaction when you were approached to play Sherlock — especially because this is an origin story of such an iconic character.

 Yeah, I’ve always been a huge fan of Sherlock, and also a huge fan of Guy Ritchie. I was lucky enough to work with Guy on 

. So when they said they wanted to approach me to play Sherlock in 

, I said, “I’m in.” And then they said Guy Ritchie was involved, and I said, “I’m already in.” It’s hard to find the words. It’s just such an iconic role that I’ve always been a fan of, and I’m a fan of Guy’s too. So yeah, I mean, it’s hard to think of anything more exciting. I was over the moon.

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