The closest encounter I had with films in my childhood was sitting on the lap of my father at a shooting set, and he would say ‘rain,’ and it started raining, and then he would say ‘song,’ and people started dancing. I thought I was sitting on God’s lap.
There are two kinds of films: the ones that are devoid of logic but can still hijack the audience, and those that can win them over with logic. Both kinds can succeed, and I like to work in both.
In Malayalam, I can improvise, and acting is easy because I think in Malayalam, but for ‘Velaikkaran,’ I had to prepare for a role, which is a first for me.
People know me through my characters. I don’t think they have any idea about the individual that I am. They know I am a director’s son, and I am married to an actress.
When I listen to a basic thought, I try to visualise the cinema in it. Sometimes it is dark, sometimes boyish, sometimes amateurish. It is a trial and error method. But the bottom line is that I want to entertain the audience.
My thought process is in Malayalam. So, every time I have to work outside Malayalam, the process is a little stressful. I have to translate my Malayalam thoughts into English and back to Tamil.
As an actor, you create a character from your understanding of what you have heard and your observations. Eventually, every film is an extension of the images that I have seen or what I have heard or read somewhere.
