Indian actress Tillotama Shome, known for her roles in films such as ‘Mons0on Wedding’ (2001), ‘Qissa’ (2013) and ‘Sir’ (2018), was recently at the 75th annual Berlin International Film Festival for the world premiere of her new film ‘Baksho Bondi’ (‘Shadowbox’). Reena Moktan sat down with Shome in Berlin to discuss the film’s making, the rise of OTT platforms, and beauty standards in Bollywood.

‘Baksho Bondi’ is premiering here in Berlin. How has the experience been?

The screening was remarkable. After dedicating six or seven years to a film, seeing it for the first time with an international audience was unforgettable. It was especially moving to see women in Berlin connect with a film set in a Calcutta suburb. I felt a sense of joy that no explanations were needed; the women simply understood the story.

Why did the movie take such a long time to complete?

Seven years ago, a friend asked me to read a script and provide feedback. After sharing my thoughts, he requested I pass on the feedback to the directors. Initially, I hesitated, unsure how they would take the criticism. However, they were eager to hear my input, so I shared my feedback. To my surprise, they then asked me to act in the film.

Over the next six or seven years, the script went through numerous drafts under directors Tanushree Das and Saumyananda Sahi, who included me in the creative process. I had the freedom to share my thoughts and concerns, making it a truly collaborative experience. They immersed me in the world of my character, Maya, providing me with photographs, letters, music, and personal items like her watch and sarees—real, aged garments that carried the memories of the women who had worn them before. Wearing them helped me connect to a collective memory, making the role even more personal.

Das and Sahi, deeply influenced by director Mike Leigh, followed his approach of allowing actors to shape their characters through their own experiences. Over six years, we naturally discovered our roles, much like a sapling growing at its own pace. You can’t rush it—growth happens gradually, almost imperceptibly, but it’s real.

More than just a film, this journey was about understanding each other as human beings. We reflected on the struggles faced by our mothers, aunts, and families—women who endured humiliation for not being wealthy, for marrying outside their communities, for facing crises, and yet never breaking. Because they survived, we exist today to tell their stories. The film gives us a chance to acknowledge these injustices, not just with anger but with the hope of change.

Did the process also take long because of character development?

Not quite. It’s typical for independent actors to spend about four years on a film. This one required more time as we focused on boosting its creativity even before securing a producer, resulting in a longer than normal process.

The movie tells the powerful story of a woman who fights to protect her family while battling societal pressures. What drew you to this character?

At first, I wasn’t entirely convinced. What excited me, however, was the opportunity to highlight women whose lives and labour often go unnoticed. Their work—from morning to night—is invisible and undervalued. Telling a story that places them at the centre was deeply meaningful to me.

Another important aspect was the portrayal of mental distress. As a society, we tend to mock and shun those who struggle emotionally. But if we were truly well, we would be more accepting. Society is becoming increasingly harsh, and at some point, every human being is at risk of breaking. We need to hold each other up. Mental distress can happen to anyone at any time. The film does not judge—it simply observes with empathy, which was also very important to the filmmakers. I deeply admire their sensitivity in depicting this issue.

Maya in ‘Baksho Bondi’ reminds me of Ratna from ‘Sir’. Do you notice any similarities between these two characters?

No, I don’t see the similarity. Their jobs may be alike, but they are two completely different characters. While women face common challenges in life, what interests me in creating characters is their uniqueness.

This film has been a defining moment in my life. My first film, ‘Monsoon Wedding’ (2001) by Mira Nair, taught me how films are made. Another was ‘Qissa’ (2013) by Anup Singh—it became my acting school because the director was generous with his guidance. ‘Sir’ (2018) was a fiercely independent film.

After OTT gained prominence, how did it change your career? Has streaming platforms opened doors for talented women? Do you think women are finally getting the roles they deserve?

There are more opportunities now, but they’re still few compared to men. It’s a good start, but we have a long way to go. We can’t be content with a small shelf for our stories—we have to push for more. That said, the past few years have been great for women filmmakers and complex female characters. Audiences are tired of superficial portrayals of women.

Bollywood has long portrayed female characters as no more than support for male leads. But you’ve chosen to play women like Maya and Ratna—strong, independent, and real. Was this a conscious decision shaped by your independent film career?

It’s a process driven by the script. There’s no fixed method—I just read the script repeatedly, looking for resonances with my own life. My main motivation is to understand my character so deeply that if I had to defend her in court, I’d know exactly why she did what she did.

In my 20s and 30s, I often played older women because I didn’t fit Bollywood’s conventional beauty standards. Now, in my 40s, I finally get to play women closer to my age. That allows me to bring in personal experiences, changing perspectives, and even my own scars. I’m no longer approaching these roles as a young actor trying to imagine an older woman—I am that woman, seeing her with depth, without judgment or romanticisation.

You’ve challenged Bollywood’s traditional beauty standards. Nepali cinema, influenced by Bollywood, also upholds similar beauty ideals. What advice would you give filmmakers wanting to break free of these outdated standards?

I don’t see it as challenging the standards—I simply coexist with them. There’s beauty in telling unique, personal stories. The more rooted and intimate your story is, the more relatable it becomes to others. We live in a world where differences often scare us, but a deeply personal story can bridge that gap.

My advice to filmmakers is to write characters that you truly know—stories that are urgent and personal. If it’s urgent for you, it will resonate with women worldwide. I see that happening in Berlin, where the committee is embracing this global need to connect.