Ms. Anupama Chopra in conversation with Samira Sood on the evolution of Indian cinema, the nature of film criticism, the changing landscape post-COVID, and her thoughts on inclusivity and diversity in storytelling
Samira Sood: Thank you. Hi everyone. Thanks for having me here. It’s a real pleasure, Anupama, to be here with you. I’ve read a lot of your work and books, so it’s a privilege to be here and interview you.
She needs no introduction, but I’ll just say that Anupama Chopra is like the fairy godmother of Indian cinema – if your fairy godmother had a sharp tongue and encyclopaedic knowledge of films. She has such quick wit and dives into film critiques like a kid in a sweet shop. Whether she’s interviewing stars or dissecting the latest blockbuster, she does it with this cheeky charm that says, “I love this film, but let’s be real – it has more plot holes than Swiss cheese.” She does everything with such a disarming, warm smile that even a poor review feels pleasant, which is something I’ll ask you about later.
But I thought we could start with the new rules of good cinema. To do that, we first have to go back to the old rules – how do you think they’ve changed, and what were the flashpoints that catalysed those changes?
Anupama:
Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you for showing up. It’s almost a full house, so thank you.
I’ve been doing this for 30 years now, so I’ve obviously seen massive changes in the Hindi film industry, which is really my first area of observation and reporting. When I started in the early ’90s, the old rule was that mainstream cinema was very formulaic – we all knew what it was. It was driven by stars and songs, with a mix of elements like the love angle, the family angle, and the sacrificing mother trope. We all knew these things would be in a film.
Things started to change around 1993-1994-1995. Of course, you had Shah Rukh Khan coming in and doing these roles in Darr and Baazigar where the hero wasn’t really heroic at all. Then you had a generational shift with Sooraj Barjatya, Aditya Chopra, and Karan Johar, and suddenly it was all about young people. It was amazing because, prior to that, men – mostly men – dominated film sets. When I started, there were very few women. You would assist a director for 15 years before becoming a director yourself. But these kids came in with their legacy and made their own films, which were all massive blockbusters, and they changed the rules of the game.
In the early 2000s, you saw the influx of so-called “outsiders” – I’m talking about filmmakers here. You had Anurag Kashyap, Dibakar Banerjee, and others who came in with a worldview drastically different from what Karan, Aditya, and Sooraj were doing.
Now we live in a fascinating place. What has happened over the last five to seven years, especially post-pandemic and post-Baahubali, is that we are genuinely talking about Indian cinema, not just Hindi cinema, which is wonderful to me as a journalist and a film critic because there’s so much cross-pollination now. For instance, today at 3 p.m., there’s a massive trailer launch for Devara: Part One with Junior NTR, Janhvi Kapoor, and Saif Ali Khan. It’s this whole idea of the best talent from across the country collaborating to create exciting things, which raises the bar for everyone.
We live in exciting times. It’s not always obvious when you see so much mediocrity, but part of my job is to keep my passion alive – and I do every Friday. I go into the theatre saying, “This one’s going to kill it.” I have to – I can’t get cynical about it. But these are good times. Great times.
Samira: And would you say there have similarly been flashpoints that triggered a change in film criticism? And if so, what’s been the single biggest change you’ve seen in your 31 years now?
Anupama: I would say it’s going digital. I started out as a film critic for India Today magazine. This was the mid-’90s, and it’s not that I trained for it or did film studies. I wish to God I had. I feel there’s still a gap in my education. But it was literally like, “Arey, she’s interested in film, chalo likho.” You know, it was that. It was as casual as that because genuinely nobody really took cinema seriously in the mainstream. It’s impossible to imagine now, but you know, there were the film magazines, and mainstream platforms like India Today, where I worked, would give us maybe three pages at the back.
I remember doing a cover story on Madhuri Dixit, either before or after Hum Aapke Hain Koun..! And that was amazing – it was like, “Oh my God, it’s a film cover!” At that time, with film criticism, you said what you felt, and nobody talked back. That lasted even when I did a television show called The Front Row for Star World, which was only 10 years ago. Even with television, NDTV – nobody said anything. You were on a pulpit, sort of expounding, and nobody responded. Cut to Twitter, where I get trolled on a daily basis.
But I think it’s ultimately a good thing because film criticism should be a conversation. We should hear back from the people we write for. They should tell us, “You’re talking nonsense,” or “You have no insight into this film.” For me, social media and digital were the biggest shifts.
Samira: And what do you think is the most misunderstood aspect of film criticism, and how do you approach it in your reviews?
Anupama: I think everyone assumes we hate movies. People are like, “What is your problem? You don’t like anything.” I’m like, “Guys, I’ve done this for 30 years, which means I love it.” You know, it’s because I come from a place of love. I do not go into a theatre wanting to find faults. I go in wanting to have the best time of my life, and I’m like a regular consumer – I’ve just watched a lot more maybe, but that’s about it.
So, this idea that critics are curmudgeons who don’t want anyone to have fun or will hate anything that’s interesting is not accurate. For example, there was this whole public interaction when the first Avengers film came out. A. O. Scott, who’s a brilliant critic with The New York Times (he’s no longer a film critic now, I think he writes about books), didn’t love the film. Samuel L. Jackson posted on Twitter and, of course, the movie was a blockbuster, but he tweeted something like, “Let’s find A. O. Scott a job that he can actually do.” And then, of course, the fan armies went after him. But the truth is, we love the movies, and we’re here because we love the movies.
Samira: So that actually segues nicely into my next question, which is that social media is becoming such a huge part of film critique now. People post live reviews, and they keep sharing box office numbers as though that should be a factor in whether someone should watch a film or not. There are Twitter wars over which film made ₹400 crores and which made ₹1,000 crores. But very few people are actually talking about whether it’s a good film. So what are your thoughts on that?
Anupama: I’m really not a fan of the interval review. “I’ve watched the first half; it’s good, we’ll see about the second half.” I think that’s just not fair to the filmmaker. At least watch the whole thing. Put the damn phone away – your eyes should be on the screen, right? So I’m not a fan of it, but what are you going to do? It’s about everybody wanting to be the first to give the hot take. I’ve seen this especially at film festivals like Cannes. At the Cannes Film Festival, every single film is a premiere. No one’s seen those films before except for the Cannes Programming Committee. So people just run out, wanting to say something, wanting to be the first.
I feel that’s the nature of the world we live in now because everything is instant. But as a critic, I feel I should always take time to think it through, then say my piece – whether you liked it or didn’t like it. At least give it the respect and let it marinate in your head for a while before declaring whether it’s good or bad.
Samira: Earlier in the conversation, you mentioned that you wish you had studied film journalism. Do you think studying journalism, films, or film history is necessary to become a film critic? These days it feels like domain expertise counts for less and less, while social media followers count for more. People are getting hired based on how many followers they have on Instagram.
Anupama: But we must fight against it, Samira.
Samira: We must. But do you think it’s necessary to study it, or can one learn on the job?
Anupama: So, I studied journalism – I have a Master’s in Journalism. What I didn’t study was film. I didn’t do film studies. So, I always wonder. I did attend FTII though. I did their residential course on film appreciation, which lasts for a month. So, I’ve done those things. And now, of course, you don’t even need that. You can just go to YouTube and spend hours watching videos that tell you how to watch films, what a frame is, what this angle is, what that angle is.
But I do wonder – would my range of references have been broader? Would I have seen more international cinema? So all of those things play on my mind. I think there’s always some imposter syndrome where you’re just like, “Do I know enough?”
Samira: Domain expertise is one thing, but you also grew up in a very creative family. Your uncle, your mother, your siblings – all of you were so creative. That must have impacted you as well and would have been your first port of learning.
Anupama: Yes, my mother, Kamna Chandra, wrote Prem Rog for Raj Kapoor and Chandni for Yash Chopra. She was always writing for Doordarshan. Back then, there wasn’t really an option. It’s weird, but we were really South Bombay snobs. I used to live right here at Cuffe Parade and went to St. Xavier’s College, and of course, we only watched English films at Eros and Regal and all these theatres – Sterling was the other big one. For us, Hindi cinema was seen as a bit pedestrian, like it was for the unwashed masses, which is so ironic because when I fell in love…
Samira: How the mighty have fallen.
Anupama: How the mighty have fallen because genuinely, when I fell in love, I fell in love hard. It was strange because my mother was writing these stories, but we didn’t have much interaction. Also, at that time, the world ended at Worli, didn’t it, if you lived here? Who knows uske aage hai kya? So there was literally no interaction. I remember, as a teenager, meeting Raj Kapoor because we went on the set of Prem Rog. But it wasn’t like a conversation in that sense, where the family sat down and discussed things. That wasn’t there. But we all loved the movies.
Samira: And now, I mean, you’re, of course, married to a filmmaker; your daughter is a published author. So, what are dinner table conversations like? Is it all shop talk, or do you find it easy to switch off?
Anupama: Actually, it’s – I don’t know – it’s probably not healthy, but there’s no real switch-off. Especially since we’re all digital now. You know it’s genuine. I spend my life… Right now, I’m reading Kaizen and how to disconnect, and it means nothing. Till 9 p.m. I’m like… And the thing is, with Bollywood, there are no boundaries, right? A PR will text you on a Sunday afternoon and say, “Interview tomorrow with so-and-so,” and that’s just how we’ve all learned to work. It’s unhealthy, but there’s no switch-off.
The conversation is very strange because I like a certain type of movie. I love Hindi cinema, but my husband has far less patience for it. His gods are Guru Dutt and V. Shantaram, while I’m into Sholay. And of course, the kids – well, my kids aren’t kids anymore; my daughter is 23 – but her influences are much more Western. So, we rarely find things we can all watch together. Also, it’s such a pain with my husband. He’ll be watching and say, “Oh, that light’s wrong” or “Look at the wig,” and I’m just like, “Stop. Can I just enjoy this?”
So yeah, it’s very tough for all of us to watch a film together.
Samira: Um, your husband may be the one critiquing films at home, but you’re known for critiquing films with such warmth that even a harsh review feels like a gentle tap on the knuckles rather than a trashing. So how do you do it? Does that come naturally to you, or did you have to work on it?
Anupama: No, it’s just who I am. Like I said, I come from a place of great love and respect. When you live with a filmmaker, you understand how much work it takes. Nobody sets out to make a bad film, and even a bad film is so laborious. Just the physical and mental labour – the 200 people who put in their days and nights. Of course, Vinod always says, “Your job is easy – you sit in your air-conditioned room and say, ‘It was awful.’” But you know, they’re the ones sweltering; they’re the ones in the trenches. So, I come from that place.
I never want to be disrespectful or hurtful. They do get hurt anyway because anything short of a rave is hurtful for many people. But I don’t want to be that person. The truth is, negativity attracts a lot more attention. Digital media is all about eyeballs, and when you’re mean, a lot more people like and share that review. But that’s not the place I operate from.
Samira: Have you sometimes found it tough to review a film or perhaps not known quite what to say? Would you like to share any examples of that, anything you’ve found tricky?
Anupama: Oh God, they’re all tricky. When you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you’re eventually interviewing the children of the people you started out with, right? Now you’ve known the parents, now you know the kids – it’s all very tough. But I feel that if you can’t speak your truth, don’t do it. Just don’t do it. The world doesn’t need one more opinion.
Of course, I don’t review anything that Vinod is involved with.
Samira: Yeah, you’re always very clear about that.
Anupama: It’s a conflict of interest, so I don’t do it. But also, let’s say, with his closest collaborators like Raju Hirani and Abhijat Joshi. You know, he wasn’t technically involved with Dunki, but I just felt like I’ve known them for 20-plus years; they’re like family. I’m not sure I would bring an objective lens to it. So I didn’t review it. For me, that was tricky. I remember when Yash Ji passed away. I love his work – I’m the type who swoons over all of Yash Ji’s romances. And then there was Jab Tak Hai Jaan, which, honestly, I loved him, and I’d known him forever, but it wasn’t one of my favourites of his. And then, what do you say? How do you – I mean, look at the legacy of that man – look at the institutions he’s built, look at the way he’s shaped the Indian cinema narrative. Who am I to critique his last film?
Samira: And it was so soon, right? Just three weeks. You felt like you couldn’t be disrespectful.
Anupama: I can never be, but at that moment, it was particularly difficult.
Samira: So, post-COVID, do you think the types of films doing well theatrically and drawing audiences to cinemas are only of a certain kind? What do you think filmmakers should have learned over the last four years?
Anupama: I am still hoping they’ve learned that the script needs to be stellar. The truth is, in our ecosystem – and I’m speaking only about Hindi cinema – stars still have an outsized influence on what happens. Films don’t run solely because of stars. They might open because of stars – they’ll definitely get people into the cinemas – but if the story or something in the film doesn’t resonate with people, it won’t work.
I wish the main takeaway from the last five or six years, especially during the pandemic, was that we’ve all learned to watch films from across the country – Malayalam, Tamil cinema, with subtitles – and you see the incredible work being done. Yet in Hindi cinema, we’re still not putting enough weight on the writers. We’re not elevating them to the powerhouses they should be. I hoped that would be the main learning from this period, but apparently not.
Samira: Well, not yet. I mean, do you think OTT platforms might be changing that to some extent?
Anupama: For sure. OTT has given writers a fantastic platform. It’s made writers enormously busy, which means they’re respected and well-paid now. That’s been amazing to see. But I still don’t think enough people in the Hindi film industry are placing enough importance on a truly good script. That’s the foundation, right? If the foundation is cracked, the building won’t stand. But for them, the foundation is the star – agar yeh star hai toh it will run. But it doesn’t. And we’ve seen enough of that.
Samira: That’s the one old rule that still hasn’t changed.
Anupama: Yes, exactly. I feel the current wisdom is that only the big films will work. For me, that’s a bit of a downer. I love big films – I will go and scream for Pathaan. We were all shouting when he said, “Pathaan naam toh suna hoga”; I’m fully that person. But that shouldn’t be the only type of film we have. What’s happening now is that people are too insecure about the middle-of-the-road films.
The smaller ones, which are slightly independent or offbeat, go straight to streaming. The thinking is that only event movies matter in theatres now. It has to feel like an event – so it’s Kalki, Jawan, or War. But who’s coming out for the smaller films? Then you have a film like 12th Fail, which breaks all the rules. I hope that happens more often.
Samira: You’ve also written a number of books – I told you your Sholay book is one of my absolute favourites. You’ve done film festivals, you run a complete 360° online platform on films, and now you’ve got new and exciting things coming up. So do you want to tell us a bit about your new beginnings?
Anupama: Well, taking a cue from my husband, The Hollywood Reporter is a restart. We’ve literally just launched about three weeks ago. For those unfamiliar, it’s a 94-96-year-old American brand which started as a trade magazine in the US and is now a B2C platform as well – a brilliant platform. It’s been brought into India by the RPSG group, and I’m the first editor. I can’t say much more because it’s all just starting and still developing, but we’re hoping to do some exciting things.
Samira: I thought we could end with a few rapid-fire questions. Who can have a film conversation these days without a rapid-fire round?
Anupama: Karan has ruined us all.
Samira: He really has! So, a current trend in Hindi cinema that you hope dies a quick death?
Anupama: Okay, damn, this is not rapid-fire at all – I have a long answer. What’s happening again with the event films is that they’re invariably centred around the hero. We’re not making event films around women. Hopefully, Alpha with Alia will be the first. And again, I don’t want event films to die out – we need those films. We need money coming into theatres, which will trickle back to the industry. But I really want there to be more variety in the films we see, not just one kind of movie.
Samira: You’ve interviewed some of the biggest stars and best actors in the industry. Who surprised you the most during an interview? Not just one person, but were there any major surprises? Anyone who gave an answer that threw you off guard, where you felt, “I wasn’t expecting that from this person.”
Anupama: Well, I remember being completely stumped. I was doing an interview with M. Night Shyamalan. He was in that phase where a couple of his films hadn’t done well, and there were stories about the “Shyamalan magic” being gone or whatever. I read something to him, or I said something about a story I think Variety had published. He just looked at me and point-blank said, “Everything you’ve just said is wrong.” And I was like, “OK.” I didn’t know how to respond. It really stumped me for a few seconds – I was just completely silent.
Samira: A film that made you cry recently – for the right and wrong reasons?
Anupama: There’s a Malayalam film called Ullozhukku (Undercurrents). It’s an incredible film about a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law and how they develop a relationship with each other. Just brilliantly done, so moving – it made me weep.
Samira: That’s the right reason. What about the wrong reason?
Anupama: OK, let me think. I haven’t seen any… OK, so in my classification of films, there are the soul-sucking bad ones which are just… mmmm… they’re moderately bad. They suck your soul because they’re not so bad that they’re good. Then there are the “so bad they’re good” ones which are just deliriously bad, and you’re like, “Man, this is wild!” Those actually become fun after a while. I’m trying to think off the top of my head what the last truly terrible one was. I can’t remember. I can’t recall seeing something that made me cry for the wrong reasons. I wasn’t a fan of Animal. I’ll be honest.
Samira: I had a feeling that would be the one you’d mention.
Anupama: I’ll say no more because it’s already got me into more trouble than I needed.
Samira: What did you last binge-watch, or what are you looking forward to binge-watching?
Anupama: I last binge-watched a series on Netflix called The Perfect Couple. I watched it because Ishaan Khatter is in it, and I was excited to see his international debut. He’s quite lovely in it. It starts out very well, but manage your expectations, people! I’ve just started it, so you’re good for now, but it doesn’t quite manage to hold its grip. Still fun.
Samira: OK, what are you currently reading?
Anupama: Kaizen, which is doing nothing for me.
Samira: And the last one – of the younger lot of actors in mainstream Hindi cinema today, who do you want to see doing different things in films and trying new roles? Who do you think has it in them?
Anupama: I think Vicky Kaushal is amazing. For me, having seen his work from Masaan onwards, he’s already doing it. Imagine this man was Sam Manekshaw six months ago and then did Tauba Tauba two months ago – and he’s brilliant in both. He’s such a versatile, fascinating actor, and he’s willing to take risks. So I think that’s wonderful. I believe the needle will move when more actors are willing to take those risks.
Samira: And maybe more female actors.
Anupama: Oh, female actors are definitely taking the risks. Absolutely. This is the thing about not having the burden of bringing in the ₹50 crore Friday. Especially because of OTT, I feel women – and particularly women of a certain age – are thriving. Look at incredible actors like Kajol or Madhuri Dixit and many others, who frankly, Hindi cinema didn’t know what to do with. They have all found amazing roles and careers on streaming platforms. So I feel women are actually taking the risks; it’s the men who have become very nervous.
This has been really fabulous, and my question is: when do we shift the conversation to the writers? I don’t know if you’ve seen Angry Young Men, there has been a slight conversation about this, but as you rightly said, it’s still very much about star power in Hindi cinema. So, how do we really shift the conversation back to where the writers are bold enough to put their names on the posters?
Anupama: You know, it’s very slow, but it is happening. The truth is that after Salim Saab and Javed Saab, there haven’t been writers who matched that glory. They just never matched the glory, perhaps also because no one has ever had that track record of 22 blockbusters out of 24. So, I think it’s just happening gradually. I remember Karan, many years ago, when he was making a film called Takht, had the writers’ names on the posters. I think at least the more progressive filmmakers are beginning to understand that this is fundamental. But the change is very slow. Honestly, I feel like it’s a chicken-and-egg situation. I don’t know who’s responsible, but stars have just become bigger and bigger, partly because of the overwhelming digital noise. As you mentioned, we are at a point where people are hired based on their Instagram followers. How can a writer compete with that? And why should a writer compete with that? So, it’s really two steps forward, one step back.
First, when you give a movie a rating of one star, two stars, three stars, or four stars, could you provide a bit of logic or a story behind those ratings? That’s one.
Second, this afternoon has been delightful. Could you recommend at least three films, from any region or language, that we can all go home and look for? Thank you.
Anupama: Oh, that’s so sweet, thank you. I used to run a platform called Film Companion, and we stopped giving stars about six years ago. As the chairperson of the Film Critics Guild, at our first Critics Awards, Shah Rukh Khan was the chief guest and keynote speaker. He said, “What are these stars? It’s a film, not a hotel.” That really hit hard, and I thought, “You know what? He’s right; it’s too reductive.” It doesn’t capture nuance – it just says, “This is one star.” Though, there are plenty of films that do deserve just one star. So, we stopped doing it. But if you’re looking at it: one star is really terrible, and five stars is, of course, a great film, which I’ve rarely seen – people don’t give five stars easily. Two and a half stars is more of a “maybe okay” type of film. That’s the classification. I was relieved to stop using stars because I found it personally uncomfortable. However, working for legacy media companies, it was also very consumer-friendly. People just see the rating and think, “Okay, two stars must be this.” That made it popular, but I’m happy not to be giving stars anymore.
Samira: It also means that if people see the star rating at the top of the review, they may not even read the review itself.
Anupama: Exactly, they don’t even know your reasoning for that star rating, and they won’t care. So, for me, it was significant to walk away from that. As for recommendations, please see Undercurrents, which I mentioned earlier. I believe it’s on Amazon, if I’m not mistaken. There is a film called Hitman on Netflix, which is delightful – dark, unnerving, but very interesting. It’s amazing. Also, another film on Netflix called Godzilla Minus One. I never imagined I would cry during a Godzilla film – in a good way, not a bad way. I could never have thought that I’d cry in a Godzilla film, because the whole point is to let the creature destroy a city. But this is an enormously moving, dramatic, and emotional film. So, those are three films you should definitely check out.
Q.3: I assume you must have seen the film RRR, right? I was wondering, this film turned out to be quite a comedy for Western audiences. I mean, they were rolling over with laughter. My American son-in-law saw the film three times and said people in the aisles were just rolling over with laughter. So, when the director made this film, was it intended to be a comedy, or is it just that Western audiences viewed it as such?
Anupama: No, not at all. And I’m not sure that they were rolling over with laughter. But, you know, there were very influential film directors recommending it. I’ve just done – can I do a personal plug here – a documentary on S. S. Rajamouli, the director of RRR, which is also on Netflix. We interviewed James Cameron, who was raving about RRR, but not in the sense of viewing it as a comedy. He praised it as part of the documentary. We also spoke to Joe Russo, who again praised the artistry of RRR. So, I’m not sure who saw it as a comedy, but I think there are enough people in the West who took it very seriously. In fact, Russo mentioned that Rajamouli could work in Hollywood anytime he wants – it’s just a matter of what he wants to do.
Q.4: Anupama, thank you so much for that lovely chat and for your insights into cinema. Just a question about Indian cinema – particularly regarding scripts. It seems there has been a lot of evolution, especially after COVID and with OTT platforms. But even now, the writing or scripts are not always tight. You see them and feel disappointed. I mean, if you compare it with Western films, you might wonder whether it’s worth watching an Indian film. So, will this ever change, and why is this the case?
Anupama: I would say it’s already happening. Honestly, I know we’re all reading about the Malayalam film industry mostly in connection with the Justice Hema report, which is a watershed moment for Indian cinema. I really hope that out of this current unhappiness, great things will come. Malayalam cinema has already advanced in terms of storytelling. The priorities are correct: storytelling is paramount. The script is crucial. The director buys into it, the actor buys into it. There’s an attempt to think outside the box. Whatever one might think of Kalki, the ambition was incredible. I find that this isn’t happening enough in Hindi cinema. It’s often a case of misplaced priorities. The focus is on chasing stars, the box office report, and the opening day numbers. The truth is that 3 Idiots opened to a 50 crore-plus opening. It’s not about how big the stars are; it’s about creating an experience for the audience. I hope we get there. I’ve spent 30 years being optimistic, and I’ll spend the next 30 years doing the same.
Samira: I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but taking off from his question, the storytelling style in India is also very different and may not necessarily be comparable with the West.
Anupama: Absolutely. Our aesthetic is different, and it should be. This is why there is so much power in our film industry – we’ve never been overrun by the West. We want songs, right? Gaana hai ki nahi hai? We can’t do without them. So, in that sense, we are Teflon. It’s a strength, but we do need to work on our scripts.
Q.5: I wanted to ask your views on OTT platforms producing such fabulous content – 10 hours, 12 hours, 20 hours, all gripping. Yet, Hindi cinema struggles to produce a good 3-hour film.
Anupama: In continuation, no, it can be done. And I hope that it will be. There are moments of creativity and inventiveness. For instance, I loved Chamkila and really enjoyed Lapata Ladies. These bursts of creativity show that we can deliver. To be fair, Stree 2 was designed as a roller-coaster ride, and it delivered. It was dumb fun and amazing, with fantastic performances. I feel we achieve this, but not often enough.