When it comes to playing complex, quietly intense characters, Dibyendu Bhattacharya always brings something deeply real to the screen. In the upcoming short film SUR (directed by Abhay Chopra and presented by Pony Verma), he takes on the role of a father who feels painfully relatable, especially in a world where passion and practicality are constantly at odds.
SUR follows Sandeep, a young dreamer from a Mumbai chawl who just wants to make music and chase his calling as a singer. But standing in his way isn’t a villain, it’s his own father. Dibyendu plays a once-passionate painter who is now half-blind, financially strained, and emotionally defeated by life. Having shelved his own artistic dreams, he can’t bear the thought of his son walking the same uncertain path. His fear shows up as anger, he bans music at home and even sells Sandeep’s harmonium.
In this chat, Dibyendu opens up about stepping into the shoes of a father caught between love and fear, regret and responsibility and why SUR reminds us that art doesn’t die, it just waits for its moment.
SUR is about the struggles of artistes. What part of the story spoke to you the most?
When Roshann (Rajesh Chouhan) first pitched the story to me, I immediately liked it because it is both unique and universal. The crisis at its heart is universal. It explores a father–son relationship, and what moved me most was how it captures love and affection alongside frustration. The father is cautious because he feels his son does not yet understand life, a life he himself has already lived. Perhaps it is an unfulfilled dream that continues from one generation to the next. That is why he becomes protective.
I especially loved the moment when the father receives the spectacles from his son and begins painting again that night. A dream remains a dream, fulfilled or not, and you have your whole life to chase it. I was also drawn to the optimism of the film. After everything, the boy gets his harmonium back and earns money through music. Life is not entirely cruel; sometimes it slowly falls into place. That positivity is beautifully portrayed.
The film says, ‘Art never truly dies.’ How do you relate to this idea as an actor?
In many ways, we are all artistes in this world because everyone has something to contribute. If we speak of art in its pure forms, be it painting, writing, music, dance, acting, they are obvious examples. But even culinary cuisine is an art. It engages all your senses. So art exists everywhere. Art never truly dies. It is always present. The beauty of art is that you can pursue it at any stage of your life. It gives you immense satisfaction and fulfillment. When you feel low or frustrated, you can channel that energy into an art form, and it rejuvenates you. That is why I believe art never dies. And an artist is always an artist; once you are one, you remain one.
How did you prepare to play a father who is both loving and frustrated with his son?
It is a story that unfolds in almost every household. I can relate to it as a father to my own son, and I can also relate to it as a son to my own father. These dynamics are very real and very familiar. As an actor, you need to be observant and understanding. All these emotions already exist within you, in your experiences, your memories, your emotional baggage. You simply draw them out and bring them into the performance.
Did filming in Mumbai’s chawls and local trains influence how you performed?
It was a wonderful experience to truly understand the life of a Mumbai chawl; the sense of community, the shared struggles, and the way everyone contributes in their own way. When I entered the chawl for the shoot, I was genuinely moved by how closely knit the community is. Everyone knows everyone.
Life there is undoubtedly difficult, but there is also joy, warmth and resilience. People are aware of their circumstances, yet there is dignity and vibrancy in the way they live. I genuinely enjoy working in such energetic and authentic environments.
And of course, the Mumbai local train is the city’s lifeline. Shooting inside a local train, especially during the kirtan and bhajan mandali sequences, was an experience in itself. When you travel in a local train and find yourself joining in song, you realise that art is everywhere, in the air, in the atmosphere. You simply have to immerse yourself in it.
Working in such real and beautiful settings inevitably influences your performance. Authentic spaces and genuine experiences always leave an impact on you as an actor, and that naturally reflects in the work.
Were there any moments during shooting that were especially moving for you?
Yes, on this shoot as well, we had a fantastic cast and crew. They were very pure, genuine and hardworking people. The director, Abhay, Roshan and Shamshad, the producer Gitu, the DOP—everyone involved was creative, energetic and deeply committed. That collective energy becomes a force in itself.
It was not a large or lavish production; it was a small film made with limited resources. When you work in such a setup, where everyone is striving together to create something meaningful, the experience becomes very special. When you have abundant resources, making a film is one kind of feeling. But when you have very little and are still determined to create art out of it that is a different and very powerful experience. There is a certain honesty in that process.
I particularly love that space because it reminds me of my younger days, when there were hardly any resources and we would build something from scratch. Those emotions came back to me during this shoot, and they were very moving.
Even the small details made it beautiful. We were shooting in a real house, someone’s actual home, with a working kitchen. I told them I wanted to eat the local food cooked there in the chawl, the bhaji, the dal, because I wanted to feel completely immersed in the environment. Gradually, I began to feel as though it was my own home. All those little experiences made the shoot very personal and very special for me.
What was it like collaborating with the rest of the team on this project?
That was the beauty of this film. Collaborating with young, energetic people who are driven purely by passion is invigorating. They are building something out of very little, and that adrenaline is inspiring. I truly enjoy working with such energy.
You’ve often spoken about not considering your career a struggle. Looking back, what were some of the most important lessons from your early years in the industry?
I always tell people that it is not a struggle, it is a journey. Struggle exists everywhere in life. A corporate professional struggles, a doctor struggles, an engineer struggles, a farmer struggles; everyone does. Struggle is simply a part of life.
Even in small, everyday things, if you want to eat something nice and there is no one to cook for you, you go into the kitchen and prepare it yourself. That, too, is a form of struggle. So struggle is constant; whether you choose to see it positively or negatively is up to you.
That is why I prefer to call it a journey. On any journey, when you walk along a road, you will face obstacles, be it storms, mud, restrictions, barriers, thorns. But you keep walking, because that is the only way forward.
So for me, it has never been about struggle; it has always been about continuing the journey. From my early days in the industry, the one lesson I carry with me is simple—keep going. There is always more to explore in life and in art. You just keep walking, keep walking.
You’ve played a range of characters from grey-shaded roles like Layak in Criminal Justice to more positive ones in Undekhi. Which kind of roles do you enjoy the most, and why?
I enjoy every role, but it must have some substance to it. It should not be entirely black or white; it should be grey. I am drawn to characters that are layered and complex.
I do not enjoy playing one-dimensional roles because, in real life, people are never one-dimensional. Human beings are multi-layered and full of contradictions, and that is what makes them interesting.
Whether I am playing a dark or villainous character, a good man, a doctor, an engineer, a father, a son, an uncle or a friend, it does not matter. What matters is that the character has depth. It must have layers that can be explored and understood. That is what excites me as an actor.
Many actors face societal or family pressures when pursuing a creative career. What advice would you give to young artistes who are starting out?
I have never really felt pressured by society or by my family, because my family has always been incredibly supportive. They are the most supportive people I could have asked for in my life. My father, my mother and my sister have always stood by me. Whatever I have achieved today is because of them. Later, my wife and my children continued that support. I consider myself very fortunate to have had such encouragement throughout my journey, so I never truly experienced that kind of pressure.
From the very beginning, I was clear within myself. I have to do this, I need to do this. I am a graduate of the National School of Drama. I studied acting, dramatics and art seriously. I knew I could not do a regular nine-to-five corporate job. This is my life, this is my profession, and this is what I am meant to pursue.
That is why I always tell parents and families: if you feel that your child or someone close to you is genuinely inclined towards art, please support them. Encouragement makes an enormous difference. Support your children, your friends, whoever it may be. because that belief gives them strength.
And to young artistes, I always say that never lose hope. Try to carve your own niche. Do not become frustrated if work does not come immediately. Getting work depends on many factors that are not in your control. What is in your control is your craft. So keep working on your craft, keep refining yourself, and keep preparing. That is the one thing no one can take away from you.
What are your upcoming projects?
I have several upcoming releases, including the films One Night at McCluskie Ganj, Gulabi, and Ek Ruka Hua Faisla. I am also working on multiple series, including Undekhi Season 4 and Mamla Legal Season 2.