Theatre is magic, and it’s time audiences felt it again: Gopal Datt

Gopal Datt has spent years being the actor audiences recognise but rarely think to name. A reliable, quietly commanding presence across films, television and OTT platforms, he has built his career in the margins of the frame, and made those margins matter. Now, with Ankahi, a new production, he steps into something more nakedly demanding: a supernatural two-hander in which he and his co-performer carry an entire story - past and present - between just the two of them. We spoke to him about the play, the organisation behind it, and the slow, deliberate repositioning of a career.THE COST OF MAKING THEATRE IN BOMBAY Before any conversation about performance or character can begin, Datt wants to talk about infrastructure. Making theatre in Mumbai, he says, is a financial gauntlet that defeats many ambitious productions before they reach an audience. “Everything is so expensive,” he says plainly, the theatre spaces, the props, the sets. “So, if organisations like Aadyam Theatre come and help you, it’s a great initiative.” But its contribution to Ankahi goes beyond writing cheques. He is equally enthusiastic about what the organisation understands, which is that a well-made play without visibility is still a play no one sees. “Creatively you can make a play, and then many times you don’t know how to market it,” he explains. The people here, he says, genuinely understand that gap. He cites Akarsh Khurana, director, writer, and one of the figures shaping it’s creative vision, as someone who speaks both languages fluently: the language of art and the language of reach. “He really understands how to go about everything, about marketing, and even in creative processes.” Nadir Khan and Shernaz Patel, he adds, bring the same dual fluency. “These people really know the problems of theatre and also what it can do to society.”A GENRE INDIA RARELY ATTEMPTS What makes Ankahi distinctive, Datt argues, is not merely its subject matter, emotions left unspoken, a story that moves between a character’s past and present, but the genre it occupies. “Very few people have attempted the supernatural genre” in Indian theatre, he says, and the production leans into that gap deliberately. The sound design and lighting, he suggests, create an atmosphere that sets the play apart from conventional productions. “It’s a very unique experience.” The audience response he has already heard bears this out. Regular theatregoers - people who have seen a great deal - are apparently saying the same thing: this is different. “I think people should come and see what theatre can do, and what the magic of theatre is. It’s every actor’s wish to get a complex, layered role. This one was really challenging, but I really enjoyed it.” TWO ACTORS. ONE ENORMOUS STORY The structural demands of Ankahi are considerable. Two actors. Every character between them. A narrative that weaves through one person’s past while remaining anchored in the present. “We are telling a huge story,” Datt says, not underplaying the scale of what that requires. “It’s very complex.” He credits director Vikranth Pawar for helping him navigate the complexity. Their process was collaborative and iterative, sitting together, discussing, working out how to make each moment land. “He really helped me to crack this character,” Datt says. It is the kind of role, he admits, that every actor wants but rarely gets to inhabit fully: complex, layered, demanding genuine interiority rather than surface gesture.THE ART OF SAYING NOThere is a candour to how Datt speaks about the industry’s habit of typecast. He does not pretend the system works fairly, or that an actor in his position can simply will himself into leading roles. “When money is involved in a project, there are lots of aspects,” he says with pragmatic clarity. Producers who invest have prerogatives, that is simply the reality. But within what he can control, he is making deliberate choices. He is, he says, turning down work that does not excite him, and taking work that does. It is a quiet, sustained assertion of artistic standards over commercial expediency. Ankahi, it seems, is exactly the kind of work that meets that bar.