Filmmaker Siddharth P Malhotra was applauded recently for his epic film Maharaj starring Junaid Khan, Jaydeep Ahlawat and Sharvari Wagh.
One can’t but ignore the fact that he is not seen often in media or social media unless he is promoting a film. Despite a filmy lineage and Kapoor family connect, he never flaunts it. A ganda bandhan shagird of two classical stalwarts – Ustad Ghulam Mustafa Khan saab and Ustad Sultan Khan saab, directing films was not the first thought for Siddharth P Malhotra.
Ahead of his new film Ikka, Siddharth chats with The Free Pree Journal.
Excerpts from an interview:
When you produce and direct a film, which one dictates the other? As in does the producer barge in to stop the director from spending or the director shuts up the producer? How do you balance the two roles?
When you’re wearing both hats—producer and director—they don’t fight each other, they constantly keep each other in check. As a director, I know exactly what I need for every shot and every scene. I know which creative elements are absolutely non-negotiable because they’re essential to the storytelling, and I also know where I can adapt without diluting the vision. Cinema is always a balance between ambition and practicality.
The producer in me understands where every rupee is being spent and, more importantly, why it’s being spent. I’ve always believed that films don’t go wrong—budgets go wrong. It’s the moral responsibility of a director to respect the producer’s investment and ensure that the film is delivered within the agreed budget. Fortunately, I don’t have to do it alone. My wife, Sapna, is the producer, and we work as a team. There are conversations where I’ll tell her, “These are the scenes or elements I simply cannot compromise on.” If there’s pressure on the budget, we don’t compromise on the vision—we find solutions elsewhere. Maybe it’s another location, a different piece of equipment, a smarter schedule, or a more efficient way of executing the scene. The idea is to solve the problem creatively rather than emotionally.
Ultimately, filmmaking is about making a film that looks twice as expensive as what you’ve actually spent. That’s the real challenge, and when you’re able to achieve that, it’s not just the director’s victory or the producer’s victory—it’s the victory of the entire team.
Did you always want to be behind the camera? If yes, why?
I did, although I briefly toyed with the idea of acting. Like many people in cinema, I wondered if that was the path for me, but I realised very quickly that it wasn’t where I belonged. Music was actually a much more serious pursuit. I’m a trained singer under the tutelage of Ustad Ghulam Mustafa Khan saab and Ustad Sultan Khan saab, and I’m a gandabandh shagird of both. I even released an album with Universal Music. Music has always been a very important part of my life and continues to influence the way I tell stories. But if I’m being honest, I always felt most at home behind the camera. I genuinely enjoy bringing people together. As a producer and as a director, I believe one of my biggest strengths is working with people—finding the right talent, empowering writers, actors and technicians, and creating an environment where everyone can do their best work. A lot of that comes from the people I’ve learned from. I grew up watching my father lead with conviction and integrity, and I was fortunate to learn under my guru, Sooraj Barjatya. Then I assisted Karan Johar and later worked closely with Aditya Chopra. Watching these filmmakers wasn’t just about learning cinema—it was about learning leadership, collaboration and how to build institutions, not just films. That’s what excites me the most. Behind the camera, you have the opportunity to tell many different stories across genres and generations. You’re not limited to one character—you create entire worlds.
As an actor, you never say never. Maybe someday I’ll play a father or a supporting character if the right role comes along. But acting requires a completely different mindset.
Right now, my entire focus is on becoming a filmmaker and producer who leaves behind a body of work—a legacy of stories that people remember long after they’ve watched them. That’s the journey I’m committed to.
From a remake like We Are Family to a near biopic like Maharaj with a off the track Hitchki thrown in between, and now a thriller…as a director you have travelled the lengths n breadths… which is the nearest to your heart and why?
Every film I’ve made has a special place in my heart because each one came into my life at a very different stage, and each one taught me something different. Ikka is incredibly close to me because, interestingly, it was actually the first film I ever wanted to make—even before We Are Family. It took years to finally happen. It’s a full-blown commercial thriller, an emotional, edge-of-your-seat entertainer. I’m a third-generation Hindi film kid. My grandparents, Premnath and Bina Rai, my father Prem Kishen—I grew up on film sets and in cinema halls. I’ve lived and breathed Hindi cinema all my life. Ikka is, in many ways, a celebration of the kind of cinema I grew up loving: emotional, entertaining and completely paisa vasool. It’s about an ordinary man pushed into extraordinary circumstances who will go to any extent to protect his family. That’s the kind of story I love telling. We Are Family will always remain special because it was my first film as a director. It may not have achieved the box office numbers we had hoped for, but emotionally it’s a film I’ll always cherish. It gave me my beginning. Then came Hichki, and that film changed my life.
There was a point when I had almost convinced myself that if Hichki didn’t get made—or if it didn’t work—I probably wouldn’t direct another film again. I had gone through one of the darkest phases of my life, personally and professionally. I wanted to make a film that truly represented me, my beliefs and my voice as a storyteller. That’s why, if I had to choose just one, it would be Hichki. That film helped me discover who I am as a filmmaker.
Every director eventually develops a signature. When you watch a Sanjay Leela Bhansali film, a Karan Johar film or a Yash Chopra film, you instantly know whose film it is. The question I asked myself was: What makes a Siddharth Malhotra film? I realised it isn’t defined by genre. The genres can keep changing—that’s important to me because I never want to become repetitive. But the emotional DNA remains constant. A Siddharth Malhotra film will always place an ordinary human being in extraordinary circumstances. The characters will undergo profound emotional journeys. Human relationships, family, sincerity and emotional truth will always be at the centre of my storytelling, whether I’m making a thriller, a drama, a biopic or a commercial entertainer. I’m a deeply emotional person and a complete family man. I understand what makes people laugh, but I also understand what makes them cry. Those emotions naturally find their way into every story I tell.
So while the genre may change from film to film, I hope people eventually recognise the emotional fingerprint. That’s what I want a Siddharth Malhotra film to stand for.
You have made films for big screen and OTT platforms. What’s the biggest difference that you have noticed – positive and negative? And how have you worked around the negatives?
For me, the biggest difference isn’t really the medium—it’s the mindset with which audiences consume it. When people walk into a cinema, they’re making a commitment. They’ve bought a ticket, travelled to the theatre and chosen to spend the next two or three hours with your film. As a filmmaker, that’s a privilege because you have their undivided attention. On OTT, you’re competing not just with other films or shows, but with everything. A notification, a phone call, social media, another series—anything can pull the audience away within seconds. So you have to earn their attention every single minute.
Having said that, I think today, just getting the opportunity to make a film or tell a story is a privilege. Every filmmaker understands that. But the challenges have definitely evolved. The biggest challenge on the theatrical side today is that films have become extremely difficult to greenlight. To make a film, especially at any meaningful scale, you need stars. To get stars, you need financing. To get financing, you often need a substantial portion of your budget secured through digital, satellite and other pre-sales before a studio is willing to commit. Today, 50 to 60 percent of a film often needs to be de-risked before cameras even start rolling.
So the negative isn’t creativity—it’s the economics of filmmaking. Whether it’s a large-budget film or even a modestly budgeted one, there are commercial realities that have to be addressed before a story can even be told. As a filmmaker and producer, you learn to work around that. You adapt. Sometimes it’s choosing a subject that’s commercially viable, sometimes it’s casting intelligently, sometimes it’s designing the film within a budget that still allows you to tell the story with conviction. It’s about finding solutions without compromising the soul of the film.
OTT has its own challenges. While it has democratised storytelling and allowed films to reach audiences across the world—Maharaj being a wonderful example of that—it is also an incredibly competitive space. There are only so many commissioning slots available, and the volume of content being pitched is enormous. Because of that, there is naturally pressure to tell stories in a way that’s immediately accessible and palatable for the platform and its audience. Sometimes that storytelling grammar is different from your own instinct as a filmmaker. The challenge is learning to adapt to the platform without losing your own voice.
I’ve never really changed my filmmaking depending on whether it’s for theatres or OTT. I still approach every project with the same sincerity and the same cinematic ambition. Whether someone watches my film on a 70-foot screen or on an iPad during a flight, I want them to feel the same emotions.
At the end of the day, platforms will keep evolving, business models will keep changing, but human emotions remain constant. If your story makes people laugh, cry, think and connect with your characters, it will find its audience—regardless of where it’s watched.
What’s that one thing you have held on to that you learned from Vidhu Vinod Chopra? Why?
I was very fortunate to work with Vidhu Vinod Chopra at a very young age. I must have been around 15 or 16, and one of the first things he did was send me to Bandra station to learn typing because Movie Magic had just come out. That’s the kind of visionary he is. Even then, he was thinking ahead of everyone else, embracing technology and preparing his team for the future. What struck me most was that he was never just making films—he was constantly reinventing the process of filmmaking. To me, there is no filmmaker in our country who understands the language of the camera the way Vinod sir does. The way he moves the camera, uses technique to enhance emotion, and tells a story visually is simply extraordinary. He is an undisputed master of cinematic storytelling.
But beyond the craft, what I learned from him was conviction. Vinod sir believes in his films with every fibre of his being. He sleeps, eats, breathes and lives his script. He tells stories entirely on his own terms, with complete honesty and absolute commitment. Watching that taught me that if you’re making a film, you can’t be halfway in. You have to be willing to give it everything you have.
That’s probably the biggest lesson I’ve carried with me—that unwavering belief in your story. If you don’t believe in your film completely, no one else will.
The other thing I learned from him was leadership. I watched how he managed people, how he inspired his team, how he pushed everyone towards excellence without ever losing sight of the larger vision. Those lessons have stayed with me, not just as a director, but as a producer as well. So, whenever I’m making a film today, I often remind myself of that simple philosophy I learned from Vinod sir: give your story everything you’ve got. Hold nothing back. Because that level of conviction is what ultimately separates good films from unforgettable ones.
