In Conversation with Tisca Chopra.
Tisca, your father was a school principal and education was highly prized in your family. In what ways has a good education benefited you in life (in ways that are both predictable and, perhaps, less than predictable)?
The film business is a world unto itself. While the rest of the world looks up to well educated people, the film business values people with rich, romantic stories to tell. Rather then having spent my early years in a classroom, perhaps I might have been better off being the chief chef to a Sheikh or a dance teacher to a corrupt politician’s daughter. It makes for a better story than having a colleague education.
Having said that, change is well underway and I find more and more people respecting the written word. So, being an actor-author is fast becoming an asset.
You wanted to become an actress from the age of two, and pursued a life in drama in spite of adversity from your family and from society — with its assumptions that being an actress meant you were therefore a prostitute, alcoholic or drug user. Have the rewards been worth it?
I have had many a long lonely road and taken many wrong turns, but here I am, on the verge of producing my own film. Any mistakes that I have made are all my responsibility, and therefore I have no one to blame. There is great freedom in that.
What has made the journey more than worth it, is meeting some truly brilliant cinematic minds, travelling to some exquisite places to shoot, and being able to tell stories that I have loved. Doing films like Qissa, Taare Zameen Par and the film I am currently working on, The Bioscopewala, allow one to feel like one has somehow, secretly squeezed more life out of life than is legitimate.
And finally, it does feel good when naysayers see that I am neither a hooker, nor really fond of alcohol but am still well on my way.
In Acting Smart, you wrote ‘If you aspire to be an actor, know that at the outset that you are about to embark on a journey akin to Lord of the Rings. You will be faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles, find yourself lost in the woods, you will confront enemies both internal and external…’ What have been the biggest internal and external challenges in your journey to where you are now, particularly from a gender perspective?
It was a lot worse when I started but women are still second grade citizens on a film set. The pay scales, shoot timings and general attitude continue to be severely tilted in favour of the male. People did not really like the confident, assertive female type at all. Women had to hide behind facades that were pleasing to men. I have done it too — the ‘giggly ingenue’ was a good go-to, when in a sticky situation.
I have seen roles and treatment of women get better with time, but the change is small and much work needs to be done.
Personally, I have stopped bothering with trying to fit. I don’t fit in and, once I accepted it internally, that helped me stand out — both in terms of my roles and in the public’s perception of me. As an artist, gender is such tiny way to be defined — what matters is depth, perception, conviction, compassion and the many other things that make one a memorable performer.
I am now getting behind stories I love and parts I want to play and getting them produced. That’s very exciting.
Your first landlady in Mumbai made things difficult for you because of her disapproval of your profession (and this makes for a hilarious story). You’ve said yourself that ‘those were more innocent times.’ Do aspiring actresses moving into Bollywood now, face the same kinds of challenges as you did? Or have the social conditions for young women with big dreams relaxed a little since?
I believe it’s gotten worse for the ‘creative types’. I hear from friends who are trying to hire out apartments that they get asked some truly insane questions. Except now, it’s equally bad for men. A lot of buildings ask about people’s religion and what sort of meat they eat (beef being a strict no-no in Hindu Building Societies). This is most disturbing, especially since Mumbai has always been very plural culture.
As far as women becoming actors or working in the not-so-kosher film business goes, I think that has changed. The film business has gone and got itself brand new PR. It’s now very cool to be an actor, writer or anything to do with the movies.
When you were starting out, how did you reconcile the disparity between the strict social conventions imposed on you in your personal life (for instance having to be home watching TV with your landlady every evening, and having an early curfew) with the more ‘saucy’ roles expected from you on screen?
It was very odd, to say the least. In my first film, I played a bar dancer. This was done to accommodate four songs that the film had and my character lip-synched on screen.
But that was not my chief problem — as an actor you are used to doing things you may never do in your personal life — my problem was I had more songs than scenes. When I asked about that, I was given an odd look, like I should have known better. Songs were what actresses hankered after, and still do. They have more longevity than scenes, you see; they are played on a loop on the many music channels so popular here. But then that is films in India.
Sexuality has always been an area of discomfort for women on screen. Nudity clauses and such have taken the guesswork out. But let’s face it, women will always be better looking and more desirable to see on screen. I am happy with that. Its when that’s all you are meant to do, that I have problems with. I say no those parts now. I don’t care if it’s big opportunity lost.
The issue of an insufficient number of women in the film industry is a huge subject for debate in Hollywood right now. Women writers and directors, for example, have trouble funding films because they aren’t seen as ‘bankable’ enough. Are an equal number of women and men working in the Bollywood film industry, both behind camera and in front, and if not, what is needed to change this?
There are far fewer women behind the scenes in India as well. But that is rapidly changing. I see so many camera-women, writers and directors. And what is wonderful is that they are doing exceedingly well.
Women need to take the bull by the horns, completely stop talking about having children back home to look after, PMS, domestic help crisis or any other womanly woe. We need to be better than the man for the job. It’s as simple as that.
Stopping being afraid is the crucial thing at this point. Often I had caught myself trying to not appear too smart or under-perform so as to not outshine the male actor, lest I create a situation where I have my role snipped or worse, get taken off the project.
I have stopped being afraid of that. And strangely, it has stopped being a problem. Looks like I was holding me back, holding on to a position of weakness out of conditioning.
To my way of thinking, women today have to have greater grit, ingenuity and ambition and know that it’s not just for ourselves that we are having to do this. Me producing my own film and releasing it may help someone in some other country do something far more spectacular, just as Sandra Bullock inspires me.
The other way is to do a Meryl Streep — be so dazzling at what you do, that there is just no way you can be held back. Then even Hollywood will make movies just for you.
Are there enough powerful and challenging roles written for women in Bollywood screenplays? Are women’s stories and experiences being accurately and adequately reflected? (One recent example I can think of is Queen, where a young woman who has been deserted by her fiancé just days before their wedding, finds her own way through Europe without him…)
That has been a fear — if a few centuries on, they walk into the film archives from the 2000s they will assume that women in the Indian subcontinent wore skimpy clothes and hung around water bodies for the pleasure of men.
The success of Queen and a few more such films has really been a very welcome one. It hasn’t exactly kicked the door open but it has allowed for some very necessary light to pass through.
Regional cinema has a less skewed perspective — Marathi, Tamil, Malayalam and Bengali cinema is doing far better at roles for women.
So we have out work cut out for us. It is truly up to the women in the business to improve the situation.
You have a young daughter now. Do you bring her on set with you, where she can see you working? What are your aspirations for her future? What kind of role model do you wish to be, and what freedoms would you like to see her living with, as she grows into adulthood?
If the terrain and weather permits, I take my daughter everywhere. She is only three but she has been to some really nice locations and I see her the richer for it. She superimposes her own stories upon the actors she sees in costume — they become Giants or Witches or Fairy Godmothers. We have long chats about how the big castle door was made of wood and brass and why it would not open (there was a shot going inside) because the Giant could not be disturbed.
Being on set fires her imagination, makes her a people person and she sees her mother working hard, all good things I suppose.
I hope she becomes some kind of an artist, though I know that is a difficult road. I have no wish to impose my artistic vision on her, I will just as happy if she chooses to become a scientist.
My husband is a writer too, so I suppose she will become at least an avid reader, having to read both our writings.
I hope she sees that one can dream. And that with effort, will and patience one can get very close to that dream. When she is of age, I hope India is rape free. I hope rape stops in all its forms — mental as well as physical, obvious as well as the subtle more insidious kind. I hope she has all the choices that any boy her age has. And that, that did not come from having famous mother but because the country changed.
Your grand-uncle was the highly celebrated and also notorious writer and journalist, Khushwant Singh. What was your relationship with him like? What did you learn from him? Did he talk to you about writing?
Khushwant Singh spoke the truth as he saw it, and the world of his time was scandalised. To me he is a great example of simply being oneself and how the world will love you for it.
The times I met him, he was just as candid and told me how he was happy there was at least one person in the family who was being paid to act.
He was happiest with his single malt and then, he would talk for hours about poetry, and of very practical matters like the value of a good massage or buying one’s own house as opposed to living on rent.
He was quite simply a fearless man. He cared nothing for public opinion and perhaps that why everyone loved him, though, of course, the hypocrites hated him.
Do you have any plans to write another book and if so, what will be the subject?
Writing comes pretty naturally to me, I have not put in any great effort into it, except perhaps being an avid reader. For that reason, maybe, I do take it somewhat for granted.
I have attempted only non-fiction so far, but am assisting Sanjay, my husband, on his first novel, Kohima.
We are also working on a film script and that is something that is more about developing than really actually writing.
So, for the moment most of my creative juices are flowing in a cinematic direction. And that is better for me, as it gets me to combine my two interests, acting and writing.
Read Tisca’s story ‘Cast Away’ in Walking Towards Ourselves out now from Hardie Grant Books. Read more and purchase the book here.
