The actor who’s winning hearts with his latest comic turn, on childhood idols, rejections and how he reinevents his game
Kunal Guha (MUMBAI MIRROR; September 22, 2019)
Twenty-nine-year-old Varun Sharma shot to fame almost instantly, when he made his debut in the film Fukrey in 2013. So persuasive was his portrayal of the obnoxious prankster Choocha, that the name became synonymous with the actor. But Sharma’s latest turn in Nitesh Tiwari’s Chhichhore promises to change that. “People already call me ‘Sexa’ wherever I go,” says Sharma, who sees it as a measure of the popularity of his latest avatar — a guy obsessed with porn.
His enthusiasm is justified. After all, it’s all he ever wanted. “I spoke with a lisp when I was young,” says Sharma, and describes how he’d stand on his bed and belt out “Yeh Tali Tali Aakhen” from his favourite film, Baazigar. “Years later, when I got to work with Abbas Mustan (in Kis Kisko Pyaar Karoon) and Shah Rukh sir and Kajol ma’am (in Dilwale), it felt like life had come full circle.”
Born in Jalandhar, Sharma’s earliest memories of regaling an audience go back to his formative years. “Chabilal bhaiya”, who would drive him to his boarding school in Sanawar, HP, served as captive audience and Sharma entertained him with dialogues from his favourite films. Incidentally, school was also where his decision to turn to the profession came to be cemented. “Sanjay Dutt sir, who is an alumnus of my school, was the chief guest at a play once, and I signed up just for a chance to see him,” says Sharma. This was a big deal because Dutt’s 1997 film Daud was the first movie Sharma ever watched on the big screen at Jalandhar’s Lal Ratan Cinema. “I played a tree, and just stared at him [Dutt] in awe for the two hours I was on stage,” Sharma recalls.
Later, while pursuing a Bachelors in Chandigarh, Sharma began collaborating with Punjab University students on theatre productions. “Surprisingly, not once did I attempt comedy then,” says Sharma, who worked on Anton Chekhov’s plays, and even played Ashwathama in Andha Yug.
Moving to Mumbai nine years ago, Sharma began assisting casting director Nandini Shrikent, taking on movies such as Talaash, Ek Main Aur Ek Tu and Student Of The Year. But the ambition to act wasn’t shelved. “I used to audition whenever I could,” says Sharma, who credits his assisting gig for fine-tuning his craft. “When I’d audition 400 people for a part, I would learn as many ways to perform the same role.”
Yet, for all that learning, landing an acting job, even a commercial, seemed a distant dream. “I even got rejected from a shopping network,” says the actor, who was once told off because he didn’t look “upmarket” enough. “I was like ‘Main gora hoon, and my mummy says I am handsome’,” he laughs.
But Sharma was conscious that he wasn’t cut out to play the quintessential Bollywood hero. “My friends would tell me ‘Pehle body bana, phir audition pe ja’. But I felt if I wasted time on my physique, I would miss out on auditions.”
Three years later, he was signed for Fukrey. “I remember that day.” His eyes light up with the memory. “I called my mother to tell her that I would be working with the makers of Dil Chahta Hain, Rock On and Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara — and they’re saying I will be on the poster.” His mother went quiet for a minute, Sharma remembers. “That’s when I realised, a lot can be said through silence.”
The success of that film ensured Sharma wouldn’t have to hustle any more. “During my first script narration, a comedy, I broke into tears,” Sharma recalls. “When the director asked me what was wrong, I told him that it was the first time someone was actually asking me to be a part of a project.”
A dozen films later, some feel Sharma has gotten typecast. “If I seem repetitive, it may be because I become too attached to characters and need to work harder,” he defends himself “In Mumbai, one is constantly surrounded by shoptalk and this can get to you,” he says. To break away, after his first few films, Sharma spent a month in Goa, waiting tables at a friend’s bar. “The customers were mostly Russian so no one recognised me. And the experience helped me to reinvent my game.” For his next secret sabbatical, Sharma plans to take up a short-term course with a university overseas. “I want to study during the day, and spend my evenings working as a cashier in a department store or as an attendant at a petrol pump,” he says. “This could be a Pardes or Aa Ab Laut Chalen hangover.”
I played a tree, and just stared at Sanjay Dutt in awe for the two hours I was on stage-Varun Sharma
