Anand Manmadhan: I always feel like I’m living inside a film

I don’t remember my first audition, but one that really stayed with me was for Mumbai Police in 2012. It changed my life, even though I didn’t get the part. The role was for Prithviraj’s gay partner in the film. Rosshan (Andrrews) sir was there and immediately said, "This role doesn’t suit you. Let’s try something else." Since I had come from Trivandrum, I was asked to perform anyway. After a few rounds, he said, "Anand, you’re a good actor." That praise kept me going.

I had no idea about cinema or any connections in the industry when I started. Auditions were my only link—I met directors and assistant directors there. But getting through an audition doesn’t make you a good actor, and failing one doesn’t mean you’re bad. It’s all about what works at that moment. Some deliver their best, while others, despite being talented, might not. So, I thought of a different approach. I started uploading my videos on social media. Later while working on my debut film Y (2017), I met like-minded people and built my network. There’s no fixed path to growth in this industry. It’s about finding what works for you.

I don’t intentionally observe people like that, but as an actor, I know I should. It happens involuntarily—we notice things even if we don’t mean to. Certain gestures, expressions, or behaviours stand out. In my mind, I always feel like I’m inside a cinema, living through different scenes. Every one of them feels like a character to me. That’s how my process works, I believe.

It all starts with trusting the director. With Bruno in Ponman, if I had any doubts, Jothish (Shankar) ettan would patiently explain the character's arc repeatedly. Plus, we’ve all seen arrogant young political workers like Bruno, so I subconsciously drew from memory. I’m not sure if this sounds insensitive, but as an actor, I naturally pick up details, even in serious moments. At a funeral, for example, I might observe how people react to refine my craft—though I sometimes feel guilty about it.

That happened while working on Padmini (2023) with Chackochan (Kunchacko Boban). He was the most senior mainstream actor I had worked with at that point. Our first scene together involved me driving a car with him in it, but I wasn’t very confident in my driving skills back then. As he got in, I nervously said, "Tension ond, sir." Looking perplexed, he asked, "Entha, vandi odikkaan ariyille?" (Don’t you know how to drive?). I quickly clarified, "No, I do, but I’m tense about acting with you!" Later, I realised that once you hear "action," you should see everyone as just co-actors, regardless of their stature—that's the best way to perform well.

Basil gives us the space to perform and allows us to explore our characters internally. He knows exactly what we need to do and provides the right scope for it. There’s no need for any inhibitions while working with him. If we give something, he delivers tenfold in return.

Yes, it’s a scene with a lot of layers. I haven’t seen a similar scene in a Malayalam film for a long time. I was able to see Basil working up close. He’s a great filmmaker as well, so he understands exactly how the scene should unfold—where the high points are and how the emotional graph should flow. That scene proves that a good director can also be a great actor. We just need to support him from behind. I think Basil is my lucky charm—Jaya Jaya Jaya Jaya Hey and now Ponman (smiles).

The suicide attempt portion in Ponman was particularly challenging. I wasn’t sure how to deliver 'Lal Salaam'—whether to say it seriously or not. Jothish ettan told me, "People should laugh at that moment," but it shouldn’t be forced. The balance had to be just right. If people didn’t laugh, the scene would’ve failed. It was also technically challenging since it was set in a small, confined space.

Also, the scene where Bruno tries to kill Ajesh was one of the toughest. The ambience is completely silent, and performing without any background noise is the most challenging. Getting the emotions right was tricky. There was also a follow-up scene, which got deleted, where Bruno is crying by a tree, torn between his inability to kill Ajesh and his responsibility toward his sister. That was one of my favourites.

Another challenging role was in 1744 White Alto (2022), where I had no dialogues. The team didn’t give me specific instructions, so I had to figure it out myself. I’ve always admired character actors like Jagathy Sreekumar, Oduvil Unnikrishnan, Jagadish etc—how they stood in the background yet made an impact. I applied some of that here. Unfortunately, the film didn’t reach a wide audience, but I get that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.

Early on, I used my face a lot to emote. A friend pointed out that since my face is already expressive, overusing it could make my acting seem exaggerated. So, over time, I consciously toned it down. I treated short films and web series as a learning ground—you don’t get that freedom to experiment in cinema.

After its release, I've been getting so many calls and messages—even from people in the industry. It's even more than the appreciation I received after Ponman. The best part is that a series is easily accessible and reaches a wider audience. Also in series, as actors, we get more room for pauses and silences to enhance our performance. Plus, there’s more scope for improvisation, like in the final scene with Ganga Meera, where some lines just came out organically on the sets.

Right now, I’m working on the Hindi film Param Sundari, starring Janhvi Kapoor and Sidharth Malhotra. Up next for release is Asif Ali's Abhyanthara Kuttavali. Then there’s Ithiri Neram by Prasanth Vijay with Roshan Mathew and Zarin Shihab in the lead, and Manu Ashokan's web series Eyes. I think, after Aju ettan, I’ve done the most number of web series in Malayalam! (laughs)