Tell us about your journey into the film industry.
There’s no grand story. Honestly, it started as a hobby that just took over my life. I stumbled into theatre during college, quite by accident. One day, I saw an ad in the newspaper that said ‘Actors required, no experience needed. Remuneration provided’. That caught my eye. I thought, why not try this for some pocket money? That’s how it all began. I didn’t come from an artistic background, had no exposure to the arts growing up, except maybe two-and-a-half music classes when I was four. And I quickly ran away from this! But once I stepped into theatre, I discovered a whole new world. It was a break from the monotony of academics and routine, and I found people who were relaxed, expressive, and just… cool. Theatre gave me an alternate worldview.
After college, I practised briefly in my academic field, but the theatre bug had bitten me hard. I decided to give it a real shot. It felt like an easy decision to me, but people around me thought I was being reckless, even suicidal! I began with a theatre group called Rafiki, which I co-founded, and slowly built my way up from there. Later, I moved to Chennai in search of film opportunities, while continuing my theatre journey with a group called Perch. Then came the pandemic. Our last show was in 2020, just before everything shut down. After that, cinema gradually started taking over.
Did you always want to play negative roles in films?
Not really. I enjoy experimenting with all kinds of genres. Playing the baddie tends to leave a stronger impact; it keeps you in the audience’s mind longer. Sure, I’ve played lead roles too, like in the Tamil film Raghu Thatha, but even that character had shades of grey. This is what comes my way more often, but I’m definitely open to comedy, action, and lighter roles, something I’m slowly beginning to explore now. For me, it’s about the character: is it interesting, does it have layers, and is there room to play around with it? That’s what excites me the most.
Being a doctor and getting into movies — was it easy? How did you get your first break?
My first break came quite unexpectedly. A friend of mine was offered a role in a Tamil film, Odu Raja Odu, which had an ensemble cast and was shot over three years. He didn’t want to do it and passed it on to me. That’s how I landed the role. Interestingly, the producer of that film later went on to make another movie, completely different in terms of budget and scale. That’s how things started rolling for me.
Eventually, I decided to move to Chennai and seriously explore film opportunities. In my head, the transition felt easy, but reality was something else entirely. I assumed I could work for a couple of months, save enough money, and then dive into cinema. Since working on ships paid the most, I took up a job as a doctor on board. One day, I landed in Mumbai, completely clueless about the shipping world. I checked into a hotel and started looking for opportunities. After about a week, with my money quickly running out, I finally got a call: ‘Doctor saab, ready? You’re boarding this evening’. I packed my bags and went.
The moment I walked through the port gate, I saw this massive ship; it was overwhelming. What was supposed to be a 36-hour journey turned into a five-day ordeal because of bad weather, seasickness, vomiting, and four days of eating just khichdi. Still, when that first paycheck hit, it felt amazing, until it disappeared just as fast. What was meant to be a short trip ended up becoming a year-and-a-half stint at sea. Eventually, I’d had enough. It was time to pack up and chase what I really wanted. There was a lot of resistance at home; convincing my family wasn’t easy. I had to lie, bargain, and argue. But finally, they said, ‘Okay, do whatever you want’. And here I am today.
In a past interview, you mentioned cold-calling people for work. What was that phase like?
Oh, that was a unique phase. I’d wake up every morning and just start calling people, anyone I thought could help. Some days were productive, others were completely frustrating. Over time, I began to understand why some calls would never get returned. Looking back, it might seem like an uncertain and chaotic period, but I genuinely enjoyed it. What kept me grounded was theatre. It gave me a sense of purpose and a community to fall back on. Theatre was the constant. Film opportunities, on the other hand, felt like chasing clouds, you never knew where or when the next one would come. It wasn’t a hand-to-mouth struggle, but yes, rent was an issue at times. Meals were sorted, thanks to friends, family, the occasional loan, and a few generous handouts. But I always had support and somehow, things kept moving.
Are theatre and film roles different?
In many ways, yes, they are different, but there are also similarities. In theatre, you spend weeks rehearsing with the same group of people. Day in and day out, you’re working together — laughing, crying, cooking, eating, even getting drunk together — and really bonding in a way that’s unique. You live through the process as a team. In contrast, cinema is much more structured. A lot of it depends on the budget and the pay scale. In theatre, the money we make is shared equally, no matter how big or small our roles are. But in film, the hierarchy is more pronounced.
Theatre is also more experimental. You might explore new things during rehearsals, and sometimes, both the director and the actors get bored and start reworking scenes. It’s a dynamic process. In theatre, you have a clear narrative that takes you from point A to Z within the duration of the performance. In cinema, though, time is much more fragmented. Every minute counts. You might shoot scenes out of order, sometimes jumping from the last scene to the middle, and then pick it up again months later. It’s like piecing together a giant crossword puzzle, and maintaining that continuity, both physically and emotionally, is essential. Though there are a lot of people on set to help, cinema is still a director-driven medium, while theatre is more of an actor’s medium, where the performance feels more direct and organic.
How are the Kollywood and Tollywood industries different?
At the core, both are businesses, and like any business, they are hierarchical and structured. The key difference lies in the approach to storytelling and the types of stories being told. Tollywood tends to focus more on mass appeal films, often with larger-than-life characters and high-energy narratives. Tamil cinema, on the other hand, seems to lean more towards literary and source-based stories, with a bit more variety in the kind of films being made. Telugu cinema is slowly opening up to more independent films, and while it's supportive, the Telugu audience, in general, is more invested in the mainstream cinematic experience compared to other audiences. Tamil cinema has been a bit more experimental in this regard, but both industries have their unique strengths.
Can you tell us how you prepare for your characters? What’s your process like?
Honestly, most of the work is already there in the writing. Writers and directors spend months, sometimes years, building these characters. When I read a script and understand how others are approaching their roles, it gives me a clearer sense of who this person is and where they come from. The process can be quite practical. Sometimes it starts with finding the character's walk, or how they hold themselves.
Costumes also play a huge role, once I’m in costume, half the work feels done. Costumes tell you a lot: where the character is from, their class, sometimes even their religion or profession. The way a costume fits, whether it’s tight or easy to remove, whether it allows free movement, also informs how you physically inhabit the character. From there, it’s in the lines. Sometimes you get a mental image of how this person would speak or move, and you try to bring that to life. If people connect with it, great. If they don’t, that’s okay too. If an idea strikes me, I don’t hesitate to share it. But if it gets rejected, that’s part of the process. Ultimately, the director holds the bigger vision. I’m just one part of the machine, a small but essential wheel. Acting, to me, is structured artistry. You’re creating within a framework, trying to explore the edges without breaking it. Sometimes you push the structure—and when it pushes back, you learn where the limits are.
Do villain roles affect you emotionally or psychologically?
I wouldn't say I’m the kind of actor who internalises deeply to the point of emotional transformation. (laughs) I think I still approach it from a somewhat external, observational level. That said, playing a negative character does make you confront a spectrum of human behaviour — from small lies and manipulation to extreme acts like murder or abuse. These are things you'd never do in real life, but you have to embody them with conviction on screen. Does it affect me? Not in a haunting way, but it does make you reflect. The truth is, that potential for darkness exists in all of us. We’re all just one act away from crossing the line, morally or otherwise. Even the sanest person is capable of losing control. That’s how crimes happen, and that duality of madness and sanity coexisting is something that fascinates me. What matters most is being able to let go of the character once the director says 'cut'. Some actors go so deep into roles, whether negative or not, that they lose their sense of self. That’s also a personality thing. Some people want to completely dissolve into a role.
Has there been any character that was particularly difficult?
Honestly, every character is difficult. Every day, every scene comes with its own set of challenges. There's always that nagging question 'Am I doing this right?' That self-doubt never really goes away. And the moment I feel like, 'Yes, I’ve nailed it, or This is enough', I know that’s where growth stops. So I always try to keep that space open — 'Could this be more? Could it be better?'
Do you see any film as a turning point in your career?
Yes, The Family Man was definitely one of them. Midway through shooting season 2, season 1 dropped and it became a phenomenon. Around the same time, the Telugu film Uma Maheswara Ugra Roopasya released. That film really opened doors for me in the Telugu industry. More recently, KothaPallilo Okappudu, which just released last week, feels like another key moment. These projects have become milestones in my journey.
What was it like working with Manoj Bajpayee?
He’s a phenomenal actor and incredibly fun to be around. What makes him fascinating is his unpredictability; it keeps you on your toes as a co-actor. It’s like playing a game of catch where you never know when or how the ball is coming. That unpredictability forces you to stay present and sharp. Watching him improvise and explore in person was a real learning experience. Plus, he’s full of stories and they’re all wildly entertaining.
You’ve played multiple cop roles, each quite distinct. Can you talk about that?
I’ve chosen police roles only when I felt there was something fresh to explore. For example, the series Brinda gave a more humanised, layered take on a cop, far more than just the badge. Dhootha was the opposite, loud, fun, and unpredictable. Both were cops, but with completely different energies. To avoid getting typecast or boring myself, I’ve actually turned down a few police roles too.
Do you see yourself directing someday?
Direction takes an immense amount of talent, discipline, and hard work. Honestly, I don’t know if I have that in me… at least not yet.
Since you’re a doctor, would playing one on screen be easier for you?
Maybe in terms of technical accuracy, yes. I might know how to hold an instrument correctly or pronounce a term right. But the emotional side of the character, the vulnerability, the conviction, that still needs to be performed. I’ve always been passionate about medicine, but when a new path opened up, I just went with it… and I’ve found a lot of joy in that journey.
Is there a particular character you’d love to play?
I’d love to do comedy. Maybe even a biopic. My approach to acting has been fairly impulsive, often improvisational. I’m curious to see how playing a real person, whether alive or from the past, would challenge that instinct. A biopic would require me to mould myself completely into someone else — that kind of transformation really excites me.
Is there anyone in particular whose biopic you’d like to do?
Quite a few people have told me I resemble actor-politician MR Radha, especially when my hair is all ruffled. (laughs) He was such an unpredictable personality with razor-sharp wit and impeccable comic timing. As both an actor and a satirist, he was fascinating and definitely someone I’d love to portray.
Are there any Telugu comic actors you look up to?
Oh, so many! Where do I even start? The legendary Kota Srinivasa Rao garu, SV Ranga Rao, and of course, Brahmanandam garu — icons in their own right. Among the current generation, I really admire what my friends Rahul Ramakrishna, Priyadarshi, Vennela Kishore, and Suhas are doing. Each one of them has their own distinct flavour, and it’s inspiring to watch their work.
Were you an avid movie watcher growing up?
Not particularly. I’d watch movies occasionally like those Sunday afternoon screenings on Doordarshan. You probably know what era I’m from now (laughs). I remember watching random movies with subtitles in unfamiliar languages, and somehow still being drawn into them. I wasn’t a hardcore theatre-goer either, just someone who enjoyed the experience when it happened.
How do you choose your scripts?
I look for roles that are interesting and allow me to explore something new, dimensions I haven’t touched yet. The overall story matters, of course, as does the team behind the project. Sometimes, even if the script is good, working with the wrong team can be a dealbreaker. And yes, money is a consideration too; it all adds up.
For instance, Aarambham was made by a young, compact team, and it was based on a Kannada novel. They sounded passionate and grounded, which drew me in. They’re already working on their second film now, which is exciting to see.
Is it hard to find opportunities in the industry now, especially with so many mediums?
Breaking into commercial cinema and more importantly, sustaining is definitely challenging. You have to stay relevant, and that relevance is questioned every single day. At least, that’s how it feels to me. People might assume that once you’ve 'settled' into the industry, things become steady. But even stability comes with its own risks like hitting a creative plateau. That’s something I’m constantly trying to avoid. Because when things get too routine, boredom can creep in. And while routine isn’t necessarily bad, for me, it often equals stagnation. So I try to keep myself creatively challenged. I want to feel that little jolt of nervous excitement before a performance, the kind that comes right before you say your first line, or just before stepping on stage. That sense of fear and uncertainty? It keeps you alive as a performer.
How was it when you first faced the camera?
I didn’t even know where to look! (laughs) It’s a very practical challenge, actually. I was nervous, still am, every day. Maybe the intensity has reduced a bit, but the nervousness is always there. What’s really tough on a film set is silence. It’s a rare and precious commodity. Silence only arrives when the shot truly settles. Learning to shut out the chaos while staying aware of everything happening around you — that’s the real task. There might be all kinds of turmoil inside, but on the outside, you need to be calm and focused.
Which character has been your favourite to play so far?
Keedaa Cola was an absolute blast — it was mad, loud, and completely unlike me. From the bright costumes to the eccentric lines, the whole set just had a wild energy. Then there’s Mangalavaaram, where I played a character that’s the complete opposite — cold, calculating, and unreadable. It involved heavy makeup, latex, and whitening my hair. We shot it in Rajahmundry at 50 degrees — it was a challenge of a very different kind. There’s also an upcoming period film that’s been fun to shoot, and a Tamil web series where the character explores some untouched emotional territories. Right now, I’m working again with the Arambam team on a new film, it’s a lighthearted take on a serious issue that affects a village. Each of these roles has pushed me in different ways.
What do you do when you’re not shooting?
There’s usually some dubbing or story narration happening. I try to go home to Bengaluru whenever I can, my mom lives there. I cook, host the occasional party at home, hang out with friends, and listen to music. Reading has taken a bit of a backseat lately... attention spans are shrinking. (laughs) But I’m trying to get back into it.
Any advice for aspiring actors?
I’m not someone who watches too much or reads extensively. But if I can survive in this space, then I truly believe a lot of people out there can thrive. You have to be open to people, influences, and learning. And at some point, you just have to get down to doing. No one’s going to hand you that ‘perfect opportunity’. There’s no right moment; it’s about the now.
Start moving, and everything else will follow. Also, be ready for uncertainty — financially, emotionally, and in relationships. This line of work keeps you on the edge. You’re constantly exploring and trying new things. So find an anchor, something or someone that helps ground you amidst all that flux. That, I think, makes all the difference.
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TNIE team: Kalyan Tholeti, Prasanna RS, Shreya Veronica, Vennapusala Ramya, BH Harsh, Nitika Krishna, Darshita Jain and Siddhardha Gattimi