I am not an actor” is perhaps the last sentence one expects from Nawazuddin Siddiqui. Yet in Main Actor Nahin Hoon, Siddiqui leans into that contradiction. Following crowd-pleasers such as Raat Akeli Hai and Thamma, he is back to unconventional cinema after a long pause, revealing why it still attracts him. In this conversation, he speaks about the craft of acting, why commercial success has never been his primary motivation, and why he doesn’t charge money for meaningful cinema.
Your new film, Main Actor Nahin Hoon, sounds ironic coming from someone like you. What was your process for playing a “non-actor”?
When you understand yourself, you can understand and play another person. This idea connects deeply with Main Actor Nahin Hoon. Sometimes actors stop realising that they are “acting,” and I think that’s dangerous. Acting should never feel like performance. You have to live the character rather than perform it. When we watch a great actor, we don’t feel they are acting. That was the challenge here. In the film, the character feels authentic in his real life, but during auditions, you realise he becomes performative, almost like a non-actor trying to act. That contrast became a device for us.
If I were a conventional Bollywood star, perhaps films like this would have become difficult to do. Stardom sometimes makes such roles inaccessible
Nawazuddin Siddiqui
Main Actor was reportedly made on a modest budget of Rs1.5 crore. Did you have any hesitation about doing a film for a much smaller paycheck?
Of course, money is important. I’m not denying that. But if money becomes the only thing guiding your decisions as an actor, then your passion begins to suffer somewhere. I never entered films thinking I would become rich through acting. If earning money was my only goal, I could have done something else entirely. In fact, I didn’t take any money for this film and even for Manto.
I felt the film deserved to be made and seen by people. It may release on only 50 or 60 screens, with limited shows, but while shooting it, I genuinely enjoyed myself as an actor. It reminded me of theatre days: experimental, honest, and free.
You said that despite all the appreciation you receive, you still don’t consider yourself a “great actor.”
Acting is too vast for anyone to master. The deeper you go into it, the more frightening it becomes because you realise there are endless possibilities. Sometimes I feel even three or four lifetimes are not enough. You discover there are a thousand ways to perform a single scene. That’s when you realise how small you are in comparison to the art itself.
Actors come and go, but the standard of acting remains enormous. That’s why I prefer thinking of myself as a student of acting. I want to remain one all my life. Once you truly understand the depth of your craft, tags like “great actor” begin to feel intimidating. I am scared of that tag.
You’ve successfully balanced both indie cinema and commercial films. Do you fear losing space in one world while working in the other?
Why should I be afraid? Ultimately, it’s an actor’s choice what kind of career they want. Actors like Naseeruddin Shah, Om Puri, and Pankaj Kapur inspired generations of performers. Commercial filmmakers have always respected them. But unlike the West, our mainstream cinema rarely gives truly great actors the lead role in large-scale commercial films. I never understood why. The whole country admires these actors. Then why weren’t bigger mainstream films built around them? That’s what makes me sad. People praise actors, but they don’t always get to see enough of them. Hopefully, that will change in the future.
Today, franchises and sequels seem to dominate mainstream cinema.
Bollywood usually follows what is working commercially. Franchises succeed because audiences already have a connection with them. Trying something entirely new always comes with risk because people may not come to the theatres. Sequels create familiarity and trust for the audience. But at the same time, it’s good that audiences are returning to cinemas. Once that culture becomes stronger again, filmmakers will have more freedom to experiment.
You’re now officially a part of Tumbbad 2. Tell us all about it.
Tumbbad 2 was my destiny. It began around 2007 or 2008, then got shelved for some time before Sohum Shah revived it. Right now, I’m shooting Tumbbad 2, and I’m enjoying the process. Everyone involved—Sohum, Alia (Bhatt), the team—is passionate about it. It’s being made in a very unique way.
Sequels to cult films often come with enormous expectations. Do you feel pressure to live up to the first film’s legacy?
Honestly, no. They’ve already spent years working on the script, and it is very detailed. You can feel the amount of preparation that has gone into every aspect: the writing, the sets, the costumes, the performances. All of this gives confidence.