As Prime Time Theatre Company readies to celebrate its 35th year, with a festival, Lillete Dubey reminisces about her incredible journey in the latest edition of Arts Adda
Lillete Dubey (right) and Mohan Agashe in a scene from Adhe Adhure. Pics Courtesy/Lillete Dubey
In the middle of hectic rehearsals at an Andheri venue for her play, Zen Katha, and soon after performing Jaya, a rock musical version of the Mahabharata, for a prestigious theatre festival in Bhopal, Lillette Dubey is anything but slowing down. “I have to keep doing something, and challenge myself,” she replies in response to our query about juggling all of it. While she successfully dabbled in designing Indo-Western clothes, made AVs for government projects, and delivered memorable performances on celluloid, she confesses that her heart belongs to the theatre.
Excerpts from an interview.
What did theatre mean to you when you started out?
Theatre is living and breathing. It also lives in memory. You can record it for documentation, but it’s not the same as seeing the play and experiencing it. That is the beauty and the tragedy of theatre. It’s not frozen or perfected in time like the screen. I started doing theatre in the first year of college. I auditioned for a play that Barry John was directing. He is my mentor. I did two plays in school, too and I felt as if I had tasted blood in the sense that I really, really loved theatre, and I loved acting. I always say I went to Barry John’s school of drama before he had one. He put me through my paces, trained and taught me everything I know. He gave me the lead roles; we did an extraordinary variety of plays, including Shakespeare, Brecht, Dario Fo, Tennessee Williams, Neil Simon, Samuel Beckett, and Harold Pinter. We did at least three productions a year. That was my training.
Music, writing, theatre, and a beautiful dance performance are all elevating. They bring you spiritually closer to something that is divine. I believe theatre can be spiritual. In every character, you stand in their shoes. It makes you empathetic. Even while I was doing my Master’s degree to appease my father, at the back of my mind, I dreamt of setting up my own theatre company one day.
Girija Oak (right) and Neena Kulkarni (extreme right) during a stage production of Gauhar
Why did you want to start Prime Time?
I wanted to set up my own company for two reasons.
One was that I wanted to platform Indian writing. It’s wonderful to play Martha and Jane, but I felt a little alienated. I wanted work more rooted in our own ethos. And I felt that if we don’t do our own stories, our own plays, who will? And second, I deliberately chose to do the plays in English because I wanted to take the work across the world as much as I could, to show what is being written in India and the productions coming from here.
Dubey (seated) looks on during a rehearsal of the play, Zen Katha at Kalari Warriors studio, Andheri West. Pics/Sayyed Sameer Abedi
Tell us about the early days.
I started a company with Sita Raina, and we had great fun setting it up together. For five years, we ran it together. We co-directed the first one or two plays, and then she moved more into the producer and administrative space, while I stayed in the creative space of directing. We separated our functions, and that worked well. For the first one or two shows, we chose well-known plays to build an audience and a brand. We felt that if we did an unknown Indian play, nobody would come. So, we started with a beautiful play called Blithe Spirit that was a success. We also acted in it.
We also did a play called The Prisoner of Second Avenue, which we renamed The Prisoner of Malabar Hill. All we did was adapt the references. It was very Indianised. Even in the first two plays with English scripts, we spoke as we speak. I didn’t want fake accents.
The director (centre, in light blue) instructs her team of actors
How did Dance Like A Man happen?
I reached out to many people, including Alyque Padamsee, about wanting an Indian script. Everyone pointed me towards Mahesh Dattani and said, there’s a new playwright who’s very good and that I should approach him. So I contacted him and flew down to Bangalore. There were no online checks in those days. My partner Sita wanted to do Mahesh’s popular, commercial play, Where There’s a Will, but I had read Dance Like a Man. She said nobody would be interested in a play about two over-the-hill Bharatanatyam dancers, and she tried hard to dissuade me, but I felt it just didn’t have the depth that I felt Dance Like a Man had. I loved the play. It was set in an artistic world, nuanced, spoke about so many things, and was so rich in comparison. That play has now travelled across five continents and over 700 shows. We also got a glowing review in the New York Times.
Joy Sengupta (left) with Dubey in a scene from the play, 30 Days in September
Has there been a production that changed something inside you?
Several. For example, 30 Days In September changed me deeply. I never imagined its impact. Women came backstage crying, remembering abuse they had never spoken about. One young girl even went on to start one of the biggest NGOs working on child sexual abuse. I don’t do theatre to create change deliberately, but when it happens, it’s extremely moving.
How do you know when a script is ‘Prime Time material’?
The moment I read a play, I see it. If it doesn’t speak to me, if it doesn’t resonate with me, I won’t do it. I don’t think about what the audience will think. The play has to talk to me first. I have eclectic taste. If you look at my list of plays, they are very different from each other. I will do Gauhar, which is about classical music and a musician, and then move to something like an Autobiography, a richly layered, sophisticated drama with such insight into human relationships.
Whatever the theme of a play, it could be anything from Sammy, about Gandhi, his philosophy, and his debates with his alter ego, to child sexual abuse in 30 Days in September, or to tender stories like Adhe Adhure or Dance Like a Man, even within that, you can see the themes are wildly different.
Suchitra Pillai (left) and Ananth Mahadevan in a moment from the production of Dance Like A Man
If Prime Time had a personality at 35, how would you describe it?
It would be me. I have no other producer, co-writer or co-director. So, I guess it reflects me: Restless creatively; always in search of new mountains to climb, new stories to tell.
You’ve worked with many collaborators. What makes a great one?
When you’re young, you think talent is everything. As I’ve grown older, the person has become just as important. Theatre is collaborative. I don’t believe in autocratic direction. I was trained by Barry John, and he allowed actors to discover, explore, and find their own interpretations.
Denzil Smith (left) and Joy Sengupta in a moment from the play, Sammy, centred on Gandhi
Are there moments that make you wonder how you pulled it off?
It’s been 35 years, and I have lots of stories. Theatre is such an ephemeral form. Things can go horribly wrong. I once had to cancel a completely sold-out musical because the lead actor lost her voice and simply refused to come. Back in the day, there was no way to call unless you had a landline. So when she didn’t show up, we kept waiting and then called the house. Her father very calmly, very coolly and casually told us, “Oh, she won’t be coming today. She’s not feeling well.” None of our pleading helped. The house was full, people were sitting on the steps, and there was nothing we could do. It even made the newspaper headlines the next day. Theatre teaches you humility very fast.
How has Indian theatre changed since you began, and how has it stayed the same?
There is more writing now, which is wonderful. But theatre remains fragile. It’s still underfunded and deeply dependent on passion.
After 35 years, what keeps you returning to the rehearsal room?
The adrenaline rush; the not-knowing. I feel the clock ticking louder. I want to do so many more things. As long as I’m curious, Prime Time will continue. Theatre is alive, and it can be a brilliant show one night, and a terrible one the next. That unpredictability excites me. Some mad people like us thrive on it.
My next play is going to be about Sindh. I’ve always wanted to do a play about the land I come from. I want to talk about the Sufi music from there, and the songs and stories from Sindh. I always want to do something new each time. Maybe, I’ll try and sing in my next play; draw out a new skill in myself. This is what keeps me going. In fact I hope my final moment is while I’m still performing on stage.
Watch the plays
The Prime Time Theatre Company will celebrate their 35th year by performing various plays, including 9 Parts Of Desire, Autobiography, Gauhar, Salaam Noni Appa and Dance Like A Man
ON February 4-8
AT Prithvi Theatre, Juhu.
CALL 26149546
ON February 14-15
AT NCPA Experimental, Nariman Point.
CALL 66223724
ON February 28-March 1
AT Royal Opera House, Charni Road.
LOG ON TO bookmyshow.com
Subscribe today by clicking the link and stay updated with the latest news!" Click here!
