Veteran actor Supriya Pathak turns 65 on January 7, marking decades of quietly formidable work across Hindi cinema, television and theatre.
Her latest film ‘Auntypreneur’ (2025) adds to a career that spans landmark films, enduring television roles and extensive theatre work.
In this interview, she reflects on her journey, revisiting choices, turning points and the craft that has sustained her across generations.
As Supriya Pathak Kapur turns 65 on January 7, her career stands as a rare continuum—rooted in legacy, yet constantly renewing itself. Born into a distinguished family of performers, she has long balanced popular recognition with an unwavering commitment to craft, moving fluidly between theatre, cinema and television. While generations remember her for indelible performances in Idhar Udhar (1985) and Khichdi (2002), her recent work underscores a continued artistic vitality. In 2025, she appeared in the Gujarati films Fari Ek Vaar and Auntypreneur, embracing roles that reflect wit and emotional depth, along with political themes, reaffirming her ease with contemporary storytelling across languages and formats.
In this interview with Sakshi Salil Chavan for Outlook, Supriya Pathak Kapur reflects with characteristic warmth and candour on a career shaped by instinct rather than milestones—speaking candidly about creative freedom, the evolving landscapes of cinema and television and her enduring love for performance. At 65, she remains an artist in motion, still curious, still searching and very much of the present moment.
Edited excerpts:
Your recent film Auntypreneur (2025) was warmly received for being both entertaining and quietly political—deeply rooted in Mumbai. As you look ahead, what kinds of stories or roles are you most excited to explore this year?
I don’t think I can anticipate these decisions. You work with what comes your way—sometimes an interesting part finds you, sometimes it doesn’t and sometimes directors have other actors in mind. That’s just the nature of the profession. I feel the world around us is already becoming increasingly bleak. Every day, when you open the newspaper or watch the news, it’s unsettling—sometimes even frightening. So I do wonder if audiences, especially those seeking a little hope, might want some sense of relief and positivity through the stories they watch. There is clearly a lot of angst in people today—perhaps more than ever. And maybe that’s why these darker narratives resonate. I don’t know if that’s because audiences actively want those stories, or if they’ve simply been offered little else and learned to accept it. It’s something I’m still thinking about but not entirely sure about either.
But I do remember a time when there were gentle, thoughtful films and wonderful shows—people like Hrishikesh Mukherjee and that whole era of warm, humane storytelling. So I keep praying that we return to that sense of balance. I’ve been hopeful for more positive work to come my way. I’m not suggesting that darker stories don’t have their place—they do, and they can be powerful. But I do feel it’s time we also made space again for happiness, for positivity and for stories that leave you feeling a little lighter when you walk away.
Has your relationship with choosing roles changed over the years? Today, do you look for certain themes, emotional or creative anchors in a script, or have there been moments when you’ve trusted instinct over everything else?
Yes, there have been moments like that. There are often very different reasons why one takes up work. Earlier, the landscape was much smaller—films were the primary form of entertainment, then television came in gradually and opportunities were limited. For a long time, we took whatever work came our way because there simply wasn’t much choice. Even then, though, we tried to find some meaning in what we were doing. We looked for something—an idea, a feeling, a spark—that could genuinely entertain the people watching. That instinct was always there.
Today, of course, there is far more scope, far more variety and many different kinds of entertainment. And yes, sometimes you take up work because you need to earn a living—that reality hasn’t changed. But for me personally, what has remained constant over the years is this: If I don’t enjoy watching what I’m doing, I cannot expect the audience to enjoy it. That has always been my guiding principle. A character, of course, is something I can work on—you can shape it and bring something of your own to it. But the story itself is not in my hands. I’m not the writer. I need that foundation to support the character I’m playing.
I enjoy collaboration and it’s important for me to feel comfortable with the team. There have been times when I’ve sensed early on that something wasn’t right and chosen to step away. And there have been other times when everything seemed promising, but the experience didn’t quite turn out the way one hoped and you find yourself stuck. So many factors come into play. But eventually, whatever the situation, you try to do your best as an actor—to find the right emotion, to serve the character honestly and to entertain the audience. That, ultimately, is what I believe in.
Your French film The Bengali Night (1988) with Hugh Grant continues to resurface online, with newer audiences discovering your work as Gayatri and responding to it with great affection. Are there particular performances or phases from your career that you wish people who are just discovering you would revisit?
Oh! That's astonishing to hear since I’m not really on social media platforms. But yes, I think a lot of new audiences are discovering me beyond Hansa and Hansa is, of course, a very important part of my life, but she’s only one part of it. There’s a great deal of work I wish people would revisit or discover now.
On television, there was a very interesting show called Zindagi (1987)—I’m not even sure how easily available it is today—but it was a beautiful experience. Then there are films like Vijeta (1982), Kalyug (1981) and Bazaar (1982), which were very defining in their own way and formed a strong part of my early screen image. I also did my first Gujarati film, Carry On Kesar (2017)—a lovely film that unfortunately didn’t get the release it deserved but I really wish more people had seen it. There’s a film that hasn’t been released yet, but one I truly love—it’s called Baby Crasto. It’s a very interesting film and I’m really looking forward to audiences eventually discovering it.
There’s this idea people often talk about—that you shouldn’t bring your work into your home. But in a family filled with remarkable performers, that line must blur, so who do you feel you share the most natural creative chemistry with, on or off screen?
As far as working together is concerned, on screen we actually haven’t done very much together yet. Off screen, though, I would say I share a very natural creative comfort with my daughter Sanah. I’m extremely comfortable with her. We haven’t really performed together or done any substantial work side by side so far, but I do hope we get that opportunity soon. I would be very interested to see how the two of us function creatively when we do.
And then there’s my younger son, Ruhaan who hasn’t stepped into films formally yet. Although he’s genuinely very talented and a very fine actor. I actually take a lot of advice from him when it comes to my own performances—he’s my go-to person every time. He has studied acting and completed his MA in acting in London, so he’s academically very strong. But more than that, he has a very wise, deeply creative mind. I find myself going back to him often, whether it’s for perspective or feedback.
Apart from all of that, Pankaj has always been a huge inspiration for me. I’ve learnt everything that I possibly could from him—whatever I could learn directly, by observing him, by being around him. So he is definitely someone very important in that sense. He has come into my life in many different ways. I’m not as serious an actor as he is and he keeps saying all the time that he doesn’t really understand the way I approach my work. But despite that, or maybe because of that, we do bring a lot to each other. That difference is very much a part of our equation and it’s my side of the whole thing.
From the other parts of my life, I haven’t really been able to draw in the same way. My sister, my brother-in-law—we all work together and there are too many of us in the same profession. They are people I deeply respect, people I love and I genuinely enjoy working with them. But comfort-wise…I don’t really know. It’s difficult to put a finger on it.
Your portrayal of Dhankor Baa in Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela (2013) earned you a Filmfare for Best Supporting Actress. What was it like working with Sanjay Leela Bhansali and did the process draw something unexpected out of you as a performer?
I think so, I really do. Working with Sanjay Leela Bhansali was one of the most incredibly rewarding experiences anyone could have. He is genuinely an actor’s director. He gives you space and at the same time, he’s right there for you. He knows exactly what he wants from you and how to draw it out. That, in turn, makes you want to put in that extra effort—because you know he can push you to bring out even more than you imagined.
The faith that Sanjay ji had in me and the way he entrusted me with this role gave me a huge boost of confidence. It made me feel that he truly believed I could do it and that really helped me find my footing for that role as an actor. It was absolutely fantastic working with him and I hope and pray that I get to do it again someday.
Khichdi remains deeply loved even today. Do you feel that good television writing has become rarer, or has it simply changed its form? Are there contemporary shows you enjoy and what do you think audiences might be missing from earlier television?
Actually, I haven’t really watched television for a very long time. I mostly watch shows on portals like YouTube, or occasionally Netflix or Amazon. I haven’t been keeping up with Indian television because, when I did, I often felt very repetitive—it all seemed quite bleak and far from creative.
It became more about how much could be shot in a day than about the craft and reaching the audiences’ hearts itself. And once a formula worked, many more shows were made on the same lines. It didn’t really give me any inspiration or happiness. So I just kind of stayed away from it. Internationally though, the diversity is immense. I do watch a lot of English and Turkish shows. But I think what I seek is really about the story. I enjoy stories more than a show that goes on and on and on.
You’ve often joked that there are many more mother roles left for you to play, and audiences still fondly recall your performances in Wake Up Sid and Masoom. Is there an on-screen mother you’ve portrayed who feels closest to your own emotional truth?
No! And honestly, my children don’t really see me as a “mom.” That’s the funny part! The amount of firing I get from them—I don’t think most moms get, you know? So for them and even for me, I don’t really fit into that box at all. Because of that, I don’t have an on-screen mother I have played that I would say is close to me.
I’m actually the total opposite of Dhankor in Ram Leela (2013). I’m the total opposite of Hansa, of course. Totally opposite of Sid’s mother in Wake Up Sid (2009). Almost every maternal character I’ve played? I’m nothing like them! Sometimes I play so many roles that I get completely lost in the thought of who I really am. And all I can say is, I enjoy playing these women—every single one of them—but none of them are like me, you know? I can’t imagine being that auntie-type figure in real life. My mind just doesn’t work that way. I’m not that person. And that’s okay! That’s what’s fun about acting—you get to explore so many lives that aren’t yours.
Coming from the IPTA legacy, alongside Ratna ji and Dina ji, you’ve inherited a strong tradition of politically engaged art. How do you see IPTA’s influence on Indian cinema and theatre today and do you think a movement with that spirit could emerge again?
I don’t think a movement like that could really happen today—not in the near future, at least. The world has become so diverse and there isn’t that kind of unity we saw before. When we were young, yes, there were challenges, but at least we believed in something unanimously. Today, even believing in a single news item is difficult—you can’t always tell if it’s true, false or altered.
So how do we even aim for a common goal? How do we find common ground when everybody has different aims and motivations? If you ask me, in this age, it feels almost impossible. Of course, maybe if the laws of the world change or the earth spins on a different axis—anything is possible—but right now, it feels unlikely.
You’re a theatre actor before anything else. Does theatre still feel like your refuge, or do you enjoy all kinds of acting across mediums equally rewarding?
To be honest, I haven’t done as much theatre as people sometimes think. My sister Ratna has done far more theatre than I have. I began with theatre, yes—my first play, then a second—but I got involved in cinema quite early, so I wouldn’t call myself a purely theatre person. I would say I’m someone who has done both theatre and cinema and enjoyed both. If you ask me which medium I’m more comfortable in, that’s a very difficult choice. To me, all mediums feel the same because it’s the acting part that I love. So it doesn’t really matter what genre or medium it is—I just love inhabiting characters and telling stories.
That’s also why I haven’t stuck to one type of work. People talk about typecasting in this industry and yes, it exists—but I’ve never been pigeonholed. Whether you put me in a web-series, an indie film or a television show—as long as I have a character to play, that inspires something in me, I’m in.
You’ve mentioned that acting wasn’t always your first choice. What alternative career path would you have imagined for yourself if destiny hadn’t nudged you towards acting?
Yes, I didn’t really plan to be an actor. See, I always had this feeling that I’d probably never make it anyway. I mean, it’s really just master’s grace that I’ve been able to do what I do today. Otherwise, what I truly wanted to be was a teacher. I also wanted to travel a lot. Being an air hostess was also one of the options back in our times and quite a glamorous one. But honestly, I don’t think I would have ever fit into that job—I’m not very comfortable carrying a tray, I think! So yeah… acting happened and I’m quite grateful for it.
Lastly, to end the interview on a reflective note, do birthdays hold any major significance in your life as milestones? And if you had to choose one film—from any era—to watch on the big screen on your birthday, which one would it be?
I really enjoy birthdays. I would be lying if I said I don’t. But I don’t think I grew up in the usual sense. People say that every year you grow a little, but for me, I grow in leaps, not gradually. I remember when I was 20, I don’t think I really “grew up” until a few years later. It was only when Sanah came into my life—about six or seven years later—that I felt a real sense of growing up. So for those seven years, I kind of stayed 20 in my mind. Then I turned 27 and felt a shift. That’s how I’ve always experienced growth—in leaps, not steady steps. For me, no single birthday makes a huge difference. Turning 30? Nothing really changed. I didn’t “own” it. But then, of course, my 50th was memorable. Even so, nothing in between truly made me feel I had grown up. And honestly, sometimes I still feel like I could be 16. We’ve joked about it before, but in my mind, I can be 16. Do you understand what I mean? I wish I were, sometimes.
But I love birthdays. I think they are special days. Days when you should feel good, celebrate yourself and enjoy the moment.
I don’t really have a birthday ritual. I like being out of the city on my birthday, away from work—though I haven't been able to do that this year. I like being with myself quite a lot and that’s what feels good.
I haven’t been to a theatre for such a long time. The last time I really relished a theatrical experience was when I watched Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani (2023). But if I had the choice to go on my birthday and pick any film to see on the big screen, it would be Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro (1983). That’s a fantastic film to witness and revisit in theatres. But yes, I do like being happy on my birthday. That’s why people say, “Happy Birthday,” right?
