 "Irrfan: Deadpan, dead right")
A good role is one that gives him a trip, says Irrfan, while rolling tobacco into a thin, long cigarette. “If you’re stuck in a groove, your ability and sensitivity as an actor gets lazy.” On a day off, this busy 47-year-old actor still bears the demeanour of a National School of Drama (NSD) student. His eyes, once described by his father as chalices, seem tired but aware. Dressed in a white linen shirt, grey pants and bearing a hint of black stubble, Irrfan looks significantly younger than the middle-aged characters he memorably plays on screen.
The melancholic Saajan Fernandes of The Lunchbox and sombre Pi Patel of Life of Pi is now a brand. Six companies, including Dabur, Ceat, Priya Gold and 7Up, have roped in Irrfan to be the face of their products. When it comes to straight talk, the actor’s credibility is considered on a par with Amitabh Bachchan and Sachin Tendulkar, says Nitish Bajaj, vice president, marketing for Ceat. “The audience sees him as someone who will call a spade a spade.” It also helps that Irrfan is not as popular as some other major actors because “that means he’s not overexposed”. Going by Irrfan’s own account, there seems to be another advantage for brands that hire him. He rates fresh content higher than compensation.
After the popular Vodafone commercials some years ago, where he played a common man delivering witty monologues, he was flooded with similar offers that led him to stay largely away from doing ads for a year. If the idea and director interest him, he is willing to bargain. “Before saying yes, I prefer if they bring me the script; it’s easier for me to decide about the money,” he says. There are also differences in how he approaches commercials and cinema. “In a film, you are not selling anything but in an ad you are, so you have to keep your focus on communicating that message to the audience.”
His wife Sutapa Sikdar, also an NSD graduate, said in an earlier interview that Irrfan was always keen on studying the art. Even now, he is reported to stay awake until 3 am, going through scripts and making notes. Observing people and life becomes second nature for an actor, he says. “If I’m crying at my father’s death, there is a second Irrfan watching and telling me how I’m behaving.” He lives by his drama professor Robin Das’ advice -- a good actor lets his emotions go but still keeps an eye on which light is on him. “You go through the emotion but you’re also detached from it. So there is both a person and a partition.”
The deadpan actor says some characters have stayed with him even after a film is completed, while there are others he could not wait to shed. He cherishes Paan Singh, who reminded him of his father. On the other hand, he was happy when his In Treatment part as Sunil Sanyal, a widower with insecurities, ended. However, one habit from that series has remained. That was where he learned to make his own cigarettes. He goes through a couple of these in the duration of an hour, leaning forward to light them and reclining casually to take drags. He is not someone many would call handsome but his tall, slender frame and sonorous drawl make him alluring.
Irrfan’s success took its time coming. The Jaipur-bred actor’s parents were not pleased with his career choice but he managed to trick them and do the course at NSD. When he came to Mumbai for work, the challenges multiplied. Irrfan, who enjoys quoting Bertold Brecht, had to unlearn theatre and adapt to the TV camera. Unlike Delhi, where people were exposed to many art forms, this city struck him as one obsessed with money. The star of Chanakya and Banegi Apni Baat felt left out in an industry where, for recreation, actors would party or play cards. He was never out of work but the wait for roles that excited him artistically was long.
The big break came with the Star Bestsellers series, which also gave a boost to such directors as Anurag Kashyap, Imtiaz Ali, Hansal Mehta and Tigmanshu Dhulia. It got him a role in Haasil and internationally, he was picked for Asif Kapadia’s The Warrior. His understated style often means he is not looked at as a star. “Once, somebody came to me and said with so much authority, ‘Why don’t you use your hands more in your performances?’ Because at the time Shah Rukh Khan was at his peak,” he recalls with a slow smile spreading across his face.
Over the last few years, the actor has had one foot in Mumbai and another in Los Angeles. He will be seen next in Vishal Bhardwaj’s Haider, Piku by Shoojit Sircar, Nishikant Kamat's untitled film, Sujoy Ghosh's upcoming film, and a comedy with Kunaal Roy Kapur titled Welcome to Karachi – Have a blast! On the international front, he has signed up for Jurassic World. While he has confidence in his ability to pick out stories and suggest collaborations between local directors and international studios, Irrfan does not think he has the temperament to be a producer himself.
His mild irreverence for commerce is also likely a theatre legacy. “In fact, when I do Hollywood films, I lose money,” he says, adding that he could earn more in India than abroad in a given period of time. About 60% of his international earnings are paid as taxes. He is taxed on the remaining 40% when he returns here. What has kept him going back and forth, he says, is the thirst for variety. In the interim, however, financial considerations did lead him to do undistinguished films such as Thank You and Knock Out. Irrfan looks forward to working with more interesting directors. “I am doing stories of my choice more than ever right now. I am viable enough for them now.”
His apartment on the fifth floor of an ocean-facing complex is filled with an eclectic collection of art and furniture, playing host to a light breeze and an incessant sound of crows. Books line the shelves and litter the tables of his study. During time off, he likes to play some sport or get away from Mumbai for a visit to Jaipur. His home, a bit like his acting methods, is part of Mumbai but still away from it, located in the distant quiet neighbourhood of Madh, near Aksa beach. “We might have to shift later,” he shrugs. For now though, Irrfan seems to be in a good place.
The melancholic Saajan Fernandes of The Lunchbox and sombre Pi Patel of Life of Pi is now a brand. Six companies, including Dabur, Ceat, Priya Gold and 7Up, have roped in Irrfan to be the face of their products. When it comes to straight talk, the actor’s credibility is considered on a par with Amitabh Bachchan and Sachin Tendulkar, says Nitish Bajaj, vice president, marketing for Ceat. “The audience sees him as someone who will call a spade a spade.” It also helps that Irrfan is not as popular as some other major actors because “that means he’s not overexposed”. Going by Irrfan’s own account, there seems to be another advantage for brands that hire him. He rates fresh content higher than compensation.
After the popular Vodafone commercials some years ago, where he played a common man delivering witty monologues, he was flooded with similar offers that led him to stay largely away from doing ads for a year. If the idea and director interest him, he is willing to bargain. “Before saying yes, I prefer if they bring me the script; it’s easier for me to decide about the money,” he says. There are also differences in how he approaches commercials and cinema. “In a film, you are not selling anything but in an ad you are, so you have to keep your focus on communicating that message to the audience.”
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Cinema allows him a more immersive experience as an actor. The process begins with Irrfan searching for ‘an entry’ into the story and character. He found Anurag Basu’s Metro and the recent Gunday simpler to grasp than The Namesake and the US TV series In Treatment, which disconcerted him. The Namesake’s Ashoke Ganguli was envisioned as a man so unobtrusive that if he is sat in front of you, you would not take heed of him. “What Mira Nair described and what Jhumpa (Lahiri) had written, I had never seen that kind of a person before,” he says. “But when I met Jhumpa’s father, suddenly a bell rang in my head -- kling.” Irrfan then surreptitiously recorded Amar Lahiri’s voice and would listen to it before the shoot. Other parts, like Paan Singh Tomar, required going through 30 DVDs with accounts from locals and acquaintances from the athlete’s village.
His wife Sutapa Sikdar, also an NSD graduate, said in an earlier interview that Irrfan was always keen on studying the art. Even now, he is reported to stay awake until 3 am, going through scripts and making notes. Observing people and life becomes second nature for an actor, he says. “If I’m crying at my father’s death, there is a second Irrfan watching and telling me how I’m behaving.” He lives by his drama professor Robin Das’ advice -- a good actor lets his emotions go but still keeps an eye on which light is on him. “You go through the emotion but you’re also detached from it. So there is both a person and a partition.”
The deadpan actor says some characters have stayed with him even after a film is completed, while there are others he could not wait to shed. He cherishes Paan Singh, who reminded him of his father. On the other hand, he was happy when his In Treatment part as Sunil Sanyal, a widower with insecurities, ended. However, one habit from that series has remained. That was where he learned to make his own cigarettes. He goes through a couple of these in the duration of an hour, leaning forward to light them and reclining casually to take drags. He is not someone many would call handsome but his tall, slender frame and sonorous drawl make him alluring.
Irrfan’s success took its time coming. The Jaipur-bred actor’s parents were not pleased with his career choice but he managed to trick them and do the course at NSD. When he came to Mumbai for work, the challenges multiplied. Irrfan, who enjoys quoting Bertold Brecht, had to unlearn theatre and adapt to the TV camera. Unlike Delhi, where people were exposed to many art forms, this city struck him as one obsessed with money. The star of Chanakya and Banegi Apni Baat felt left out in an industry where, for recreation, actors would party or play cards. He was never out of work but the wait for roles that excited him artistically was long.
The big break came with the Star Bestsellers series, which also gave a boost to such directors as Anurag Kashyap, Imtiaz Ali, Hansal Mehta and Tigmanshu Dhulia. It got him a role in Haasil and internationally, he was picked for Asif Kapadia’s The Warrior. His understated style often means he is not looked at as a star. “Once, somebody came to me and said with so much authority, ‘Why don’t you use your hands more in your performances?’ Because at the time Shah Rukh Khan was at his peak,” he recalls with a slow smile spreading across his face.
Over the last few years, the actor has had one foot in Mumbai and another in Los Angeles. He will be seen next in Vishal Bhardwaj’s Haider, Piku by Shoojit Sircar, Nishikant Kamat's untitled film, Sujoy Ghosh's upcoming film, and a comedy with Kunaal Roy Kapur titled Welcome to Karachi – Have a blast! On the international front, he has signed up for Jurassic World. While he has confidence in his ability to pick out stories and suggest collaborations between local directors and international studios, Irrfan does not think he has the temperament to be a producer himself.
His mild irreverence for commerce is also likely a theatre legacy. “In fact, when I do Hollywood films, I lose money,” he says, adding that he could earn more in India than abroad in a given period of time. About 60% of his international earnings are paid as taxes. He is taxed on the remaining 40% when he returns here. What has kept him going back and forth, he says, is the thirst for variety. In the interim, however, financial considerations did lead him to do undistinguished films such as Thank You and Knock Out. Irrfan looks forward to working with more interesting directors. “I am doing stories of my choice more than ever right now. I am viable enough for them now.”
His apartment on the fifth floor of an ocean-facing complex is filled with an eclectic collection of art and furniture, playing host to a light breeze and an incessant sound of crows. Books line the shelves and litter the tables of his study. During time off, he likes to play some sport or get away from Mumbai for a visit to Jaipur. His home, a bit like his acting methods, is part of Mumbai but still away from it, located in the distant quiet neighbourhood of Madh, near Aksa beach. “We might have to shift later,” he shrugs. For now though, Irrfan seems to be in a good place.