Kanu Behl is a filmmaker celebrated for his stark and honest depictions of fractured relationships, pervasive toxic masculinity, and the deeper social currents beneath the surface. His cinematic work consistently navigates the space between the provocative and the deeply insightful. Following the critically acclaimed neo-noir thriller Titli and his compelling exploration of an investigative journalist’s life in Despatch (which gained significant traction on streaming platforms), Behl is now bringing his highly anticipated film, Agra, to theaters this November. Agra delves into themes of sexual repression within intensely confined environments, where the very name ‘Agra’ symbolizes unspoken desires and profound psychological unrest. This festival favorite features a standout cast, including newcomer Mohit Agarwal in the lead, alongside captivating performances from Priyanka Bose and Rahul Roy.
What message do you aim to convey with ‘Agra’? Does its central character, Guru, serve as an earlier exploration of the toxic masculinity themes found in ‘Titli’ within a dysfunctional family setting?
Given that both stories originate from my own experiences, it’s natural to spot those thematic connections. For me, *Titli* primarily explored the cyclical nature of how violence and harmful patterns are passed down through generations within a family. *Agra*, however, focuses intensely on repressed sexuality, particularly within crowded, claustrophobic physical spaces. Consider our country: we have a population of 1.4 billion, yet our landmass is smaller than China’s, which has a similar population density. When I began to contemplate the repression stemming from my own journey with sexual expression, I sought to understand the broader context. How does our sexuality influence the environments we inhabit, and conversely, how do these environments shape our sexual lives? This interplay fascinated me deeply.
Why did it take so long to bring ‘Agra’ to the screen?
I was often told that tackling themes of desire and sexuality in Indian cinema was challenging, which led me to approach the subject cautiously. The turning point arrived during the final day of a workshop in Italy. My mentor, the accomplished editor Molly Stensgaard, looked at me and asked, ‘Do you truly understand why you’re making this film?’ I was caught off guard. I hesitantly replied that I wanted to make a film about sexual repression. After a long, uncomfortable silence, she simply said, ‘Then why aren’t you doing it?’ That conversation prompted a three-month hiatus, during which I realized that if I was committed to making this film, I had to be prepared for all the consequences. Shortly after, the COVID-19 pandemic unfortunately disrupted our plans…
Unlike many independent filmmakers who aim to inform, your work immerses the audience directly into the heart of societal decay. Could you elaborate on your creative process?
My process begins with cultivating deep empathy for every character, not just the central figures. As I meticulously work through draft after draft of the script, my goal is to genuinely connect with and understand each individual within that narrative, allowing them to evolve into fully realized human beings. Once you grasp their unique perspectives, it becomes impossible to take a superior stance and declare, ‘This is simply how things are.’ When all the characters in a scene express their own valid viewpoints, a realization dawns – a moment of ‘Aha!’ or ‘Achcha!’ – and it’s then that you, the audience, are empowered to draw your own conclusions about these people and their choices.
In your films, the relationships between men and women often appear transactional, a constant negotiation, with women particularly navigating patriarchal structures. Is this a deliberate thematic choice?
I’ve keenly observed that women often must be superior negotiators to simply survive. Given how much physical power resides with men in our society, overt pushback becomes incredibly difficult. Women consistently find subtle, often covert, ways to assert their agency and power. This inherent need for survival often makes them exceptional negotiators. This phenomenon deeply interested me, especially witnessing the incredibly strong women in my own life. Growing up, I relished being a ‘fly on the wall.’ Some moments I witnessed made me think, ‘This person must be so incredibly tough,’ because there are times when you see a man making a poor decision, yet you can’t confront it directly due to the immense ego involved.
A profound aspect of the film is the bond between Guru and Preeti, characters traditionally seen as ‘incomplete.’ How did you forge their connection without offering them any conventional emotional support systems?
The evolution of that particular relationship in the script felt truly magical because, at one point, even I wasn’t sure where *Agra* was headed. We have Guru, a young man who might be superficially labeled as ‘mentally damaged.’ He desperately needs a catalyst—a perfect counterpart—to illuminate his path. I then conceived the idea, using air quotes, of a ‘physically damaged woman.’ Both characters are outwardly judged by society as incomplete, yet, deep within, they are remarkably whole and complex individuals. I believed they would instinctively understand each other, as both contend with the same societal scrutiny. When these two perceived ‘halves’ connect, they create something truly beautiful, transcending mere desire and transactional exchange.
Your films’ intimate scenes often feature characters intently trying to decipher one another. This must pose a significant challenge for actors, to convey such simmering intensity. How do you guide them through this?
It certainly is daunting, and there’s no single, rigid process. It heavily depends on the individual actors I’m collaborating with. Within the very same scene, I might engage with two different actors using entirely distinct approaches, tailored to their specific needs and where I want their performance to go. Typically, I structure my workshops into three distinct phases. For example, during the initial phase with Priyanka, my aim is to ‘cleanse’ her—the person—of any preconceived notions and past roles she’s played. In the second month, she focuses on achieving a state of neutrality, learning not to ‘act’ but to simply *be* neutral. Once she becomes accustomed to this neutrality and can differentiate it from her previous experiences, the final month begins. This is when she truly embodies the character, not merely by memorizing lines, but by internalizing the rhythms and essence of the human being she is portraying—exploring questions like, ‘What does Preeti do when she’s not in this scene? Why does she move the way she moves?’
Where do poetry and romance fit into your distinctive cinematic vision?
On an Archie’s card! Seriously, where is this idealized notion of love that society so often sells us? True love, in reality, is far more intricate and nuanced than we typically acknowledge in our daily lives. My ambition is to engage my audience in a complex conversation, one that mirrors the realities of their own experiences as closely as possible. I believe we all lead such complicated lives, often merely aspiring to grasp that ‘ideal’ form of love—the one characterized by sacrifice and selfless devotion. In my films, however, nobody is purely sacrificing; there’s always an underlying motive, which might reveal itself in the second or third act. It’s crucial to recognize that there’s a reason behind all our actions. Yet, amidst this complexity, I find immense beauty in relationships. There’s a particularly poignant moment in a crucial scene where Guru, uncertain of Preeti’s true feelings, approaches her. In a deeply intimate exchange, he asks her whether she’d prefer to live with him at his home or her shop. Her simple reply, ‘What difference does it make?’, encapsulates the fragile, often understated beauty that defines human connections.
You cast Rahul Roy, famously known as Bollywood’s ‘lover boy,’ as a complex character—a ‘Daddy’ juggling a wife and a mistress. How did he adapt to such a departure from his iconic image?
Working with Rahul Roy was absolutely fantastic. In a way, he cast himself! My usual practice involves having three actors read for a role during workshops, always assuring them not to be offended and to see it as an exploration, not an audition. I’m really looking for who naturally ‘rhymes’ with the character. Rahul was consistently the last to leave, and one evening, he confidently declared, ‘Kanu, I will be the one doing this film!’
‘Titli’ received support from Yash Raj Films back in 2014. A decade on, how do you view the landscape for independent cinema today?
The truth is, making independent cinema has become significantly more challenging. However, every independent filmmaker who came before me has echoed the same sentiment. Beyond just the struggles of indie film, we’re facing much larger systemic issues. In many respects, the ‘rosy’ picture of capitalism we were sold is now fading, and the entire system appears to be crumbling. Within these ruins, artists are often the first to feel the brunt, as massive obstacles begin to fall directly onto their heads.
Agra is scheduled to release in theaters on November 14.