Express News Service
Sudhir Mishra flat-out refuses to hang up his boots. Four decades in, he continues to churn out springy, exciting work. The quality of his output may vary: the critically-acclaimed Serious Men (2020) came sandwiched between the middling web-shows Hostages (2019—) and Tanaav (2022); there was Daas Dev (2018) to account for before that. Yet, on some level, it doesn’t matter. To watch Sudhir—tall, erudite, his hair magnificently white and back straight as an arrow—keep plugging away at the old game is a delight.
We spoke to the director about his 80s Parallel Cinema origins, a funny scene from Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi, authoring his next two films and the missed opportunities of working with Amitabh Bachchan and Mohanlal.
Excerpts from a conversation…
Your mother passed away in June this year. Your father, professor DN Mishra, died two years ago. How does it feel to be parentless at your age?I lost both my parents in their 90s. I’m 63. I guess they had to go. But it’s tough. It also depends on the relationship you have with them. My parents were my buddies; they lived with me for the last 25 years. It’s a strange thing to lose them because you become an adult and an orphan at the same time. You can no longer go to daddy or mommy with your grievances. I didn’t know it could have that impact, especially at my age, but it did.
Saeed Mirza tells a story about you falling through the sets of a chawl in your early days.When I came to Mumbai in the early 80s, it’s directors like Saeed and Kundan Shah who allowed me to enter their worlds and write scripts with them. I was working with Saeed on his first film, Mohan Joshi Hazir Ho!. We had built a part of a chawl and I was putting up some props on it. It had solid flooring on one part and a little ahead was a fake floor. I stepped on it and went down (laughs).
People found parallels between Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro and the Morbi bridge collapse tragedy in Gujarat. Does it surprise you that the film has retained its bite so far into the future?It’s surprising and also sad. The fact that things like that are still happening isn’t something we should get thrilled about. But too much credit also accrues to me for Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro. It was Kundan’s film and I always returned that back. We were all angry and upset and young and wild when we made that film. But it was Kundan who guided the whole thing. I don’t think he would have been particularly happy with the fact that people are still tagging JBDY and bridges are still falling.
I don’t want to begrudge you your success on OTT. But they were all adaptations. What happened to the Sudhir Mishra who authored his own films?Serious Men was a book adaptation so it’s all right. It’s the first time I tried interacting with another person’s mind. And I think I was the better for it because it triggered me in a creative way. But now I’m shooting Afwaah with Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Bhumi Pednekar which is my script. It’s a thriller. I also made a short film with Taapsee Pannu (in Anubhav Sinha’s forthcoming anthology) which is also my script. It’s about then and now and the idealism of parents and children. It’s quite constructed like my first film, Yeh Woh Manzil Toh Nahin (1986).
The ending of Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi gets spoken about a lot. But my favourite scene is when Vikram (Shiney Ahuja) goes to convert a royal palace into a hotel. It’s a funny, acerbic scene, and not that integral to the whole film.Well, it’s an aside. When Shiv (late actor and screenwriter Shivkumar Subramaniam) and I were writing the script of Hazaaron, we happened to find the character of Vikram. He’s the sort of guy we used to hate in college. He’s the desi boy who comes to St. Stephen’s to learn the social graces and enter the upper class. That scene is about Vikram and what he does for a living. It shows you another India emerging that wasn’t all Naxals. You see the old feudal order disappearing and these big fixers coming in. The funniest and most obvious image for it was of a maharaja reduced to the post of a durban. I think the reason Hazaaron works is because it has the ability to laugh at itself.
Your films draw on the youth culture and politics of the 70s and 80s. Do you connect with the youth culture of today?There’s something wrong with it but obviously we (the older generation) are to blame. The kids have inherited a world that we have given to them. So in a sense, they are reacting to where we failed. Which is sad because they are reacting to the idea of knowledge itself. They thought we were all a bunch of bullshitters and where did their dad’s bullshit get them? They believe it’s all a scam and everyone is compromised from their ideals. What they don’t realise is everyone is a hero in time. There are no permanent heroes. They need to forgive their parents and move on rather than carry the hurt and betrayal they feel the older generation has done.
Is there an actor you always meant to work with but never did?I have not worked with Naseeruddin Shah the way I’d like to (he appeared in my first film, Yeh Woh Manzil Toh Nahin). I did work with Irrfan (on Yeh Saali Zindagi). I would’ve liked to do it again. Smita Patil died before I started making my first feature. Mr. Bachchan I thought I would work with (on the shelved Mehrunissa, also meant to feature Rishi Kapoor) but something happened and I didn’t. I would love to work with Mohanlal. He’s an amazing actor. I almost did work with him but it slipped.
Recent film/shows that you really loved…The Worst Person in the World, Drive My Car, Parasite, Succession, Homeland, Better Call Saul. I found Tom Cruise’s Top Gun: Maverick quite scary. Because now there is an imaginary enemy. We don’t know who they are bombing the hell out of.
Sudhir Mishra flat-out refuses to hang up his boots. Four decades in, he continues to churn out springy, exciting work. The quality of his output may vary: the critically-acclaimed Serious Men (2020) came sandwiched between the middling web-shows Hostages (2019—) and Tanaav (2022); there was Daas Dev (2018) to account for before that. Yet, on some level, it doesn’t matter. To watch Sudhir—tall, erudite, his hair magnificently white and back straight as an arrow—keep plugging away at the old game is a delight.
We spoke to the director about his 80s Parallel Cinema origins, a funny scene from Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi, authoring his next two films and the missed opportunities of working with Amitabh Bachchan and Mohanlal.
Excerpts from a conversation…
Your mother passed away in June this year. Your father, professor DN Mishra, died two years ago. How does it feel to be parentless at your age?
I lost both my parents in their 90s. I’m 63. I guess they had to go. But it’s tough. It also depends on the relationship you have with them. My parents were my buddies; they lived with me for the last 25 years. It’s a strange thing to lose them because you become an adult and an orphan at the same time. You can no longer go to daddy or mommy with your grievances. I didn’t know it could have that impact, especially at my age, but it did.
Saeed Mirza tells a story about you falling through the sets of a chawl in your early days.
When I came to Mumbai in the early 80s, it’s directors like Saeed and Kundan Shah who allowed me to enter their worlds and write scripts with them. I was working with Saeed on his first film, Mohan Joshi Hazir Ho!. We had built a part of a chawl and I was putting up some props on it. It had solid flooring on one part and a little ahead was a fake floor. I stepped on it and went down (laughs).
People found parallels between Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro and the Morbi bridge collapse tragedy in Gujarat. Does it surprise you that the film has retained its bite so far into the future?
It’s surprising and also sad. The fact that things like that are still happening isn’t something we should get thrilled about. But too much credit also accrues to me for Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro. It was Kundan’s film and I always returned that back. We were all angry and upset and young and wild when we made that film. But it was Kundan who guided the whole thing. I don’t think he would have been particularly happy with the fact that people are still tagging JBDY and bridges are still falling.
I don’t want to begrudge you your success on OTT. But they were all adaptations. What happened to the Sudhir Mishra who authored his own films?
Serious Men was a book adaptation so it’s all right. It’s the first time I tried interacting with another person’s mind. And I think I was the better for it because it triggered me in a creative way. But now I’m shooting Afwaah with Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Bhumi Pednekar which is my script. It’s a thriller. I also made a short film with Taapsee Pannu (in Anubhav Sinha’s forthcoming anthology) which is also my script. It’s about then and now and the idealism of parents and children. It’s quite constructed like my first film, Yeh Woh Manzil Toh Nahin (1986).
The ending of Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi gets spoken about a lot. But my favourite scene is when Vikram (Shiney Ahuja) goes to convert a royal palace into a hotel. It’s a funny, acerbic scene, and not that integral to the whole film.
Well, it’s an aside. When Shiv (late actor and screenwriter Shivkumar Subramaniam) and I were writing the script of Hazaaron, we happened to find the character of Vikram. He’s the sort of guy we used to hate in college. He’s the desi boy who comes to St. Stephen’s to learn the social graces and enter the upper class. That scene is about Vikram and what he does for a living. It shows you another India emerging that wasn’t all Naxals. You see the old feudal order disappearing and these big fixers coming in. The funniest and most obvious image for it was of a maharaja reduced to the post of a durban. I think the reason Hazaaron works is because it has the ability to laugh at itself.
Your films draw on the youth culture and politics of the 70s and 80s. Do you connect with the youth culture of today?
There’s something wrong with it but obviously we (the older generation) are to blame. The kids have inherited a world that we have given to them. So in a sense, they are reacting to where we failed. Which is sad because they are reacting to the idea of knowledge itself. They thought we were all a bunch of bullshitters and where did their dad’s bullshit get them? They believe it’s all a scam and everyone is compromised from their ideals. What they don’t realise is everyone is a hero in time. There are no permanent heroes. They need to forgive their parents and move on rather than carry the hurt and betrayal they feel the older generation has done.
Is there an actor you always meant to work with but never did?
I have not worked with Naseeruddin Shah the way I’d like to (he appeared in my first film, Yeh Woh Manzil Toh Nahin). I did work with Irrfan (on Yeh Saali Zindagi). I would’ve liked to do it again. Smita Patil died before I started making my first feature. Mr. Bachchan I thought I would work with (on the shelved Mehrunissa, also meant to feature Rishi Kapoor) but something happened and I didn’t. I would love to work with Mohanlal. He’s an amazing actor. I almost did work with him but it slipped.
Recent film/shows that you really loved…
The Worst Person in the World, Drive My Car, Parasite, Succession, Homeland, Better Call Saul. I found Tom Cruise’s Top Gun: Maverick quite scary. Because now there is an imaginary enemy. We don’t know who they are bombing the hell out of.
