There’s a stillness in his shots. It’s the everyday that draws your attention, and that’s what stays with you. It’s in the silence and the mundane that these stories find their life. Shoojit Sircar brings these realities before you through his films, the beautiful and the ugly. From the harrowing court drama of Pink to the nuanced portrait of family in Piku, and the historical depth of Sardar Udham, Shoojit has captured the hearts of audiences.
You’ve been appointed as a judge and jury member for the short film competition segment at IFFM 2025, what excites you about the next generation of filmmakers?
I’m still from this generation, don’t worry (laughs). What fascinates me is that they’re a lot more exposed to cinema, especially global cinema. Since the emergence of smartphones and cameras in everyone’s hands, the audiovisual medium has become more accessible. That accessibility has made them more aware, intelligent, and sharper with the subjects they cover. Many genres, techniques, and crafts have improved. Stories now come from every nook and corner. Earlier, they used to come only from film cities like Mumbai, Hyderabad, or Delhi. Now, filmmakers from smaller towns are creating beautiful, well-crafted films. A lot of deep-rooted, smaller-town filmmakers are telling their stories.
I Want to Talk is based on a real-life story. As a filmmaker, how do you feel about the current wave of biopics in Bollywood as a filmmaker?
Everything is a biopic at some level — you get inspired from some incident and make a story. Some are fictional, some are real. As long as you tell that story with real integrity, sharpness,vision, bring change and give the character you intend, I wouldn’t call it a trend. If the stories are inspiring and worth telling, it’s fine.
Did the shift from theatrical release to OTT for Sardar Udham change the viewing experience from what you imagined?
I made Sardar Udham for theatrical release, but because of the situation, it went to OTT. So to answer your question, it’s yes and no both. The size of the screen affects the viewing experience, it’s different for people watching on a laptop screen and a home theatre system. Still, the theatrical collective viewing experience is absolutely unique and cannot be replicated on another device. But at the end of the day, the storytelling isn’t impacted.
Your films often highlight the ordinary in life, like the road trip in Piku or the hospital routines in October. Is there a philosophical element to this attention to the everyday?
For me, everyday ordinary situations are fascinating. That’s why they reflect in my films. My motto in life is to take each day as it comes. When you introspect on those moments, you can smile, laugh, or sometimes find mystery in them.
Your films like Sardar Udham and Madras Café are politically charged and even Pink deals with elements of law. How do you navigate the line between fact and interpretation?
It’s not too difficult because I’ve lived with many of these incidents. Madras Café was tied to events in Sri Lanka and Tamil Nadu, with India involved and a prime minister assassinated. October came to me when my mother was in hospital. Pink reflects situations I’ve blatantly seen in Delhi, where it’s still unsafe for women to walk alone at night. Tapsee Pannu even shared many related stories with me.
Sardar Udham has been with me since my college days. I wanted to tell the story of Bhagat Singh, but my focus shifted to Udham Singh, one of the many unsung heroes from the Independence Movement. So these stories are quite blatantly in front of us. It’s possible we see it sometimes, and at other times, we don’t. What I see is what I capture on film.
Do filmmakers have a responsibility toward shaping public discourse?
Of course, without that responsibility there’s no morality in a story. How do you make a film without those simple ethics and principles? Films do impact people, we don’t come out of cinema halls and forget them, they stay with you in your DNA, in your system. A filmmaker must be conscious about what they’re bringing to society and how it progresses. There can be individualistic opinions in the name of realism, you can do anything, but you must consider where humanity is going. Art has a responsibility toward humanity.
What is your relationship with doubt, as a filmmaker and person?
I feel that the doubt actually is not your own thing. It’s an outward thing; it’s injected in you and then you’re forced to face it. For me, doubt comes from the other person, who doesn’t like what you do. But if you are left alone and given freedom, then that feeling might not exist, because you go with the vision of what you want to express. In terms of filmmaking, it’s the box office that is the doubt, not the film that you have.
If you had complete freedom without budgets or market pressures, what would you make? How do you balance commercial and creative goals?
If you give me freedom, there’s no need to balance — I’d do anything, because nobody is paying for my stories, visuals and visions. Many historical films or other stories come to mind. Freedom means no boundaries, but it still needs expertise, craftsmanship, and meaning. It’s not about doing whatever I want; there has to be a sense and responsibility behind it.
What is something you would never compromise on as a filmmaker?
You do compromise sometimes — more during filming, like changing shooting patterns, but I never compromise on the core spine of the story or believable casting. I thought Arjun Sen was Abhishek Bachchan in I Want To Talk. Varun Dhawan in October, Deepika Padukone in Piku, and Vicky Kaushal in Sardar Udham —these are all extraordinary performances.
Is there a genre or style you haven’t explored but would like to? And what’s next?
A genre I’d want to try is possibly mythology and I’m working on a couple of subjects, but it’s too early to share details.