Sheeba Chaddha interview: ‘Whatever you do, do it as honestly as you can’

Over the last 25 years, Sheeba Chaddha has done a huge amount of work in theatre, television, cinema and streaming. But it’s only recently that she has gained recognition as a strong supporting actress.

Within the narrow confines of roles offered to women over 35, Chaddha has played diverse characters: the aunt in Dum Laga Ke Haisha, the sophisticated mother in Badhaai Ho, the matriarch who quietly supports her son when he comes out in Badhaai Do, the sex worker turned vegetable vendor in Taj Mahal 1989, the tough boss in The Trial. Even when cast in roles without distinguishing characteristics, she contributes her special strengths.

Chaddha stands out but also stays within the boundaries of the role. Her expressive eyes can convey myriad emotions – wistful, sharp, melancholy, aggressive, or even detached – which lend unpredictability to her performances.

Chaddha belongs to a business family from Delhi. She was associated with Rajat Kapoor’s theatre group Chingari. Later, when she moved to Mumbai with her then husband Atul Kumar, they started The Company Theatre, and she did a lot of good theatre work in the city.

She brings the rigour, intelligence and discipline of theatre to the screen. She has steadily built up a solid filmography, even if her early years were lost in the forgettable fog of television soaps. “Fortunately, I have not had periods of the kind of struggle that I know of,” Chaddha told Scroll. Here are edited excerpts from an interview.

You started out in films with Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Hum Dil De Chuke Hai Sanam and Mani Ratnam’s Dil Se. An enviable way to debut.

All I can understand about being in this city is that its mainstay is luck. I had said that I will come to Mumbai for a month and if I get some work, I will stay, otherwise, I’ll go back to Delhi. Within that month, I got Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s film. Ramesh Sippy was making a series called Gatha, so I got a role in that.

Mani Ratnam’s Dil Se was such a tiny role, it was nothing. It was just great to work with him, each set was just wow. And I got to see Shah Rukh Khan and Manisha Koirala. I did a stand-in for Manisha when she was not there. Mani Ratnam requested me to wear her costume and do a shot of her walking in the snow.

Did Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam trap you as the heroine’s sister?

Or mother, very early on. That’s the way the industry is, no? Late twenties or early thirties and you are the mother.

I never had a problem, because I never came with the agenda of becoming a heroine. I was doing theatre and then I went to America for two years for some family thing. When I came back, this entire TV boom had happened. The idea of an actor being able to survive just by acting was suddenly a real possibility, which was unthinkable before.

The whole system was so formulaic, in that the heroines were larger than life. I never even thought of myself in that zone at all. I had clarity that this was a requirement and my work was something separate.

Did television give you the roles you wanted?

TV was nice only until the daily soaps. All of us who were fortunate enough to do television at that time managed to do really nice work. There was Bhanwar, a wonderful series, a series with Om Puri called Antaraal and other episodic things with great actors, so well-written. I have done a wonderful thing called Bogie No 13 with Irrfan, which never saw the light of day. But once the daily soaps came…

I am very grateful – it literally let me pay my bills – but it used to be extremely dissatisfying. I had no Illusions. I used to always try not to work for more than 18-19 days [a month] in television. That’s a struggle because they want you for more days.

You have been in plays adapted from Ibsen and Moliere. How did you adjust to television’s mechanical style?

I try not to do that ever. I try to do my most honest best. But you’re not superhuman. Sometimes, the material is so low on the aesthetic of everything that it’s a struggle. Whatever you do, do it as honestly as you can. Of course, I cannot compare that work to, say, a film on Hamlet, or a film called Parzania that I did at the time. But the fact is, I try my best not to be dishonest even with the shittiest of work.

I’m not a prep kind of actor. Sometimes, I have literally done scenes with pages of non-stop dialogue. That was never a bother for me – in any case, I had zero expectations. Let’s just say the aesthetic bar is very low, so if you’re going to resist that, you are creating a lot of trouble for yourself.

Some theatre actors used to look down on television and films.

I call that total theatre snobbery. I have seen it, and it’s not okay. Because most of those actors would ideally want to do films to pay their bills if nothing else.

There was also resistance to casting theatre actors.

They were cast in small roles in the side. Everything was so polarised, you know. Films were so formulaic – one hero, one heroine, one villain, one funny character, one mother and then these subsidiary characters. Now the stories are more nuanced. The possibility of actors like us has increased, and with OTT [streaming] coming in, one hundred per cent.

Even as a well-known theatre actor, did you have to do the rounds of production offices with your photographs?

By the grace of God, I have done it once in my life, which is when I had first came to Mumbai. This was almost 25 years back. Some directors would agree to meet you, some wouldn’t. There were no casting agencies. There would be a third or fourth assistant calling you from the production house. Now, this entire casting cosmos is like a parallel industry in itself.

Isn’t there also a community that offers outsiders a support system?

It still works a lot like that. When people come here, they can’t afford to stay on their own, so they share with people. Among the flatmates, there will be a costume person, a make-up person or even actors. It’s impossible to survive in the city otherwise.

My first job was via a friend who was writing for Sanjay Leela Bhansali, this wonderful actor called Kenneth Phillips. That’s how the theatre association worked. He was working as Bhansali’s assistant and said, there’s this film being cast and I think you should meet him.

When did you realise that you were finally starting to get exciting roles?

I think it was different after Dum Laga Ke Haisha. Once that came out, there was a lot of talk that it was wow. The film became very visible and was quite successful. Post that, a lot of that kind of stuff started happening and I was fortunate to be a part of real, aesthetic movies.

You have turned out to be everyone’s favourite mother, but you have played these parts differently.

First of all, you can’t go over and above the script. If the mother’s ecosystem or universe is just that much, there’s not much an actor can do beyond that, except add a little bit of detail here and there. So, you just hope to get stuff that’s written differently, with more flavour, nuance, layering, exploration, danger. Then it gives you something to put your teeth into.

Eventually, all stories are probably the same, but the nuance is so much more now. You are happy to land up on a set where you don't look at your dialogue and say hey bhagwan, how will I say this?

I loved the role of Baby in Badhaai Do, because she’s so reluctant. Normally, the mothers are gung-ho, they always want to over-indulge, over-engage. She was, like, let someone else do it, I don’t want to. I just love that nuance about her. The story was what was novel. It’s the mother’s acceptance of the son that was surprising.

In The Trial, you are in a different mould, as a glam boss lady.

That was also nice, really good fun. We can only pick from what is offered to us. I don’t think so much about glamorous or not glamorous, but just to have as much of a difference of flavor. That’s interesting. Always.

I’ve done a German series on Netflix called The Signal in which I play a woman in her sixties. That was fun, the prosthetics and that she’s a mean antagonist. I’ve also done an interesting film with Vijay Varma called Afghaani Snow.

The TV work you did before, or even some of the films, have been forgotten. Do you get recognised now?

I don’t look at television as my body of work. That was my source of income, running parallel with theatre or the occasional film which I enjoyed doing.

Earlier, people had seen me in something but didn’t know my name. Now, they know my name and some of my projects. There will be the occasional one who will ask what was I in. I lose my patience and say, go and look it up.

With a glut in content, attention spans have decreased.

Oh yes, you’ll know that when you pick up a book to read. I used to be a voracious reader. I grew up reading books and would take books to shoots. But now I know how difficult it is to get past the fourth page or sometimes even pick up a book.

You haven’t done a play in years. What is your relationship now with theatre?

Recently I’ve been watching a lot. This is the longest hiatus I’ve had from theatre. I don’t know when or how I will do another play again, because right now it’s difficult to say that I won’t be available for two months.

I’ve done so much theatre. Now when I look at some plays, I go wow, will I ever be able to do that? If I were to do a play again, I would start with something really small.

You have been doing some writing. If you were to write a role for yourself, what would it be?

I write with my friends a bit, help with dialogue writing and with screenplays. But for myself? Honestly, I don’t know.

Maybe a love story. At the same time the lives of people like Mirabai really attract me, so that would be amazing to look at.

Over 25 years, have you reached where you wanted to be?

It’s not as if I had a goal post and I have reached there because I really didn't. I wouldn’t call myself ambitious. I pretty much go with the flow and take a call based on the present moment. I don’t have far-reaching goals.

Ayushmann Khurrana asked me once how many films I had done. It struck me that I’ve never counted. And I still don't think I have a count.