Radhika Apte in ‘Sister Midnight’
| Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Radhika Apte has a flu. Over a Zoom call from London, the actor fights back a bout of coughing as she discusses Sister Midnight, her acclaimed, punk-powered black comedy that showed at last year’s Cannes and is opening in Indian theatres on May 30. By all accounts, Apte is a passionate talker. But her voice breaks down several times, and I wonder if she’s powering through out of politeness and professionalism. Perhaps not. There is a genuine delight in her words, a wonderment at looking back at a job well done.
Apte had stamped her comedic authority on Monica, O My Darling and Lust Stories. But Sister Midnight appears to nudge her into wilder terrain. The film centres on a newly married woman, Uma, and her nocturnal unravelling through the streets of Mumbai. London-based director Karan Kandhari has described the character as a ‘jar of unstable plutonium’, and anointed Apte ‘Buster Keaton reborn’.
We spoke to Apte about constructing and deconstructing Uma, her life away from Bollywood, and the status of her forthcoming directorial debut Kotya. Excerpts…
In several interviews, you have said this film took you out of your comfort zone. How was playing Uma fundamentally different from your previous roles?
Radhika Apte: My usual go-to process is to intellectualise the whole thing. I have a biography and a history of the character: what happened to them, why are they a certain way, how do they react, why do they make the choices that they do? With Uma, Karan wanted me to delete all that out. To scrap any deep analysis or motivation and let my body take over. For instance, in a scene, Uma is walking and then she stops and takes a left turn. Normally, I would find a reason behind this action. But here, it had to come from pure impulse. I had to surprise myself. This took a few days to figure out. I changed the rhythm entirely, and my performance became more animal-like.
Did your background in dance and experimental theatre help you through the process?
It helped a lot. Sister Midnight is not a ha-ha comedy. It’s a dark comedy and a lot of really strange things happen in the film. And a lot of it is silent. I had to convey everything through my face and body, as there are animals involved in the later half of the story. I have studied dance and theatre, and this film, too, is deliberately choreographed in a rhythmic, over-the-top way. It’s quite rare to get these opportunities. Right now, every platform or producer wants you to explain everything and spoon-feed the audience.
I love the shot of you walking at a railway platform, against the flow of the crowd and the wind. Do you have a favourite shot or scene from the film?
My favourite scene is the one I cannot divulge here, sadly. It’s a massive twist that comes after the midpoint. It’s the scene that transforms everything. It’s very funny and very bizarre. During the shoot, I thought it would be difficult to perform but it turned out to be quite simple. I also enjoyed all the night-time walking through South Bombay. We shot on film and the lighting and cinematography (by Norwegian DP Sverre Sørdal) is quite unique and interesting.
Karan was born in Kuwait and lives in London. Was there ever friction between you two about the gaze of the film—in how it looks at the city or the characters?
Not about the city or culture but about language. Karan had written the script in English. The dialogue had a predetermined rhythm to it. And in the translation, it was getting lost. Our absolutely wonderful casting director, Dilip Shankar, helped him translate the dialogue but some of it was also happening on set. And some of the dialogue didn’t make sense. Karan was chopping words and changing them to fit the rhythm. I was like, this doesn’t make sense grammatically, and he was like, I don’t care because I needed it to sound a certain way. So we had to sit together and make it work. It wasn’t friction but conversation.
I should also add that, although the film is set in Mumbai, it is quite placeless and genderless. It can literally happen anywhere.
You live in London now with your husband (violinist and music composer Benedict Taylor) and newborn daughter. How has life away from the Hindi film industry been for you?
Honestly, it’s been a blessing. We try to split our time between London and Mumbai. But I don’t live in the film industry bubble anymore. Life is much more normal as a consequence. I meet people from all walks of life, people who don’t really give a sh*t about the movie business. I find it healthy to lead a life where the film industry is not the end of the world. Otherwise you are taking yourself too seriously, which I see a lot of in Mumbai. You are working constantly and there’s constant anxiety and insecurity.
Of course, my new life has its disadvantages. I cannot fly on a whim, especially now that I have a daughter. There are too many logistics involved. I know I miss out on a lot. I cannot just go and attend an event. So it’s got both sides, but I like it.
What can you tell us about ‘Kotya’, your directorial feature about a sugarcane cutter who gains superpowers after a forced medical procedure?
I was quite taken aback with the news coming out because the film is at a very nascent stage. Nothing is set in stone yet. We are still developing it. It’s a story I really love, and Vikram (Motwane, producer) and I are building up the project. Everybody’s attachment is not hundred percent concrete yet. I am not sure when it will go on floors.
Published – May 29, 2025 03:25 pm IST
