Bollywood is an industry that thrives on spectacle. Headlines are dominated by opening-day numbers, star fees, social media virality and box-office verdicts delivered within hours of a release. Success is celebrated loudly, while failure is dissected ruthlessly. Yet, behind the arc lights and red carpets lies a quieter reality—one shaped by loneliness, uncertainty, judgment and emotional labour that rarely finds space in public discourse.This ETimes piece moves the spotlight away from gossip and toward growth. By listening closely to voices from within the industry—actor Alexx O’Nell, actor-producer-entrepreneur Vishakha Singh and actor Kashika Kapoor—it explores the invisible pressures Bollywood normalises, the silences it rewards, and the reforms that could make it a healthier ecosystem for the next generation.
The loneliness nobody warns you about
For Alexx O’Nell, one of the most prolific non-Indian actors working in Indian cinema today, the most pervasive silent struggle is also the most misunderstood.“Loneliness.It sounds ironic in an industry full of people, noise, and constant collaboration—but it’s deeply real.”Bollywood sets are crowded spaces—technicians, actors, assistants, publicists, producers—all moving with purpose. Yet O’Nell points out that emotional companionship is often missing. “You’re surrounded by crews, producers, co-actors, publicity teams… yet emotionally, many artists are completely on their own.”
For outsiders, the isolation can be sharper. Alexx O’Nell has built his life in India, worked across languages and industries, and in 2025 alone has seven theatrical releases across Malayalam, Hindi, English and Bengali cinema. But professional momentum does not erase inner solitude.“For outsiders especially, that feeling is amplified. But success doesn’t make loneliness magically disappear.”What compounds the loneliness, he explains, is performance—not on screen, but in life.“There’s a quiet pressure to always look confident, busy, and ‘winning.’ Nobody wants to admit how isolating uncertainty can feel when your career depends on forces you can’t control.”Family and friends, he adds, often struggle to understand the industry’s emotional toll.“They don’t understand its stresses, slights, and injustices.”For Alexx O’Nell, survival has depended on having one person who does.“Thankfully, I have a spectacular manager, Shreeda, who does. She often ‘talks me off the ledge,’ reminding me that even in the chaos, I’m not alone. Honestly, everyone needs a Shreeda to keep them sane and grounded in this business.”Loneliness, in this sense, is not about being unseen—but about being unsupported.
When silence feels like survival
The glamour associated with Bollywood often masks an unspoken rule: don’t complain, don’t confront, don’t rock the boat. Alexx O’Nell admits that silence has repeatedly felt safer than honesty.“Absolutely—many, many times.”As a foreigner navigating Indian cinema, he learned early that compliance is often mistaken for professionalism.“You quickly learn that being ‘easy to work with’ is often valued more than being honest.”Speaking up carries perceived risks.“You worry it might label you as difficult, ungrateful, or replaceable.”Early in his career, silence became a coping mechanism.“I swallowed a lot—confusion, cultural misunderstandings, even unfair treatment—because I thought survival depended on silence.”But over time, that silence came at a cost.“Silence may protect your job in the short term, but not speaking up when it matters slowly erodes your self-respect. Finding your voice is scary, but losing it is worse.”The real challenge, he says, is not just speaking—but knowing how and when.“Having a strong manager or mentor to guide you—to help you do it respectfully and productively, without burning bridges—is invaluable.”Vishakha Singh, who has worked as both actor and producer, echoes this evolution.
“The biggest silent struggle is uncertainty. We have normalised it. From financing to greenlights to releases, nothing is stable. Raising money in India is difficult unless you are attached to a large studio or platform or have a known name attached. Bank and similar institutions don’t really support creative projects, and private capital/investors often aspire for big star projects. Even when you do raise funds, or are all set to go on floor, things can change overnight – OTT greenlights shift, release windows move, actor dates collapse, budgets can get impacted. And after all that, for films – theatrical access is still brutally competitive because of low screen density. A lot of this becomes unpaid emotional labour that no one accounts for; but everyone carries.”Early on, silence felt like the correct professional posture.“When I was still learning the ropes, silence often felt like professionalism.”With experience, her approach hardened into principle.“Speak with clarity, document everything, and work only with people whose values align with yours.”She offers a stark warning: “Talent without integrity eventually becomes expensive—emotionally and professionally.”Kashika Kapoor offers a softer, reflective perspective. For her, silence was not fear-driven but observational.“Early in my career, silence was a way of listening deeply.”With time comes discernment.“I was learning not just about performance, but about people, power dynamics, and collaboration. As you grow, you understand that your voice has value—but so does timing. Speaking your truth with clarity and compassion often creates more impact than speaking loudly.”Together, these voices reveal a system that rewards silence early, then punishes it later—leaving artists to navigate the cost on their own.
Living under the tyranny of numbers
Few industries quantify worth as aggressively as Bollywood. Alexx O’Nell admits that judgment—through box office numbers and social media metrics—is impossible to fully ignore.“We like to pretend numbers don’t matter, but they do.”They influence perception quietly but decisively.“They quietly decide whether you’re considered ‘hot,’ ‘finished,’ or ‘bankable.’”Social media intensifies this scrutiny.“Suddenly millions of strangers are reviewing not just your work, but your face, your accent, and your worth.”Even now, after performing across languages and cultures, O’Nell finds himself vulnerable to the numbers game.“There are days when I catch myself equating my success with reviews or box-office collections.”This, despite the fact that his 2025 releases—Lucifer 2: Empuraan, Kesari Chapter 2, Phule, Pokkhirajer Dim, Raghu Dakat, Devi Chowdhurani and Thamma—have connected strongly with audiences.“Gratitude and pressure often coexist.”For Alexx O’Nell, music became an emotional refuge.“Writing songs, being a musician, gave me a private space where I could fall in love with a melody before anyone else had an opinion about it.”Yet even that sanctuary is not immune.“Downloads, streams, and radio play quickly become another scoreboard.”His conclusion is sobering.“Art isn’t meant to be a competition. Yet the pressure created by statistics never fully disappears.”Vishakha Singh approaches judgment through acceptance. Her career—from the National Award-winning Onaatah to Atkan Chatkan and Real Kashmir Football Club—has largely existed outside mainstream formulas.“I accepted early that not everything I make will fit a mass or theatrical template or a typical ‘success formula’.”What concerns her more is the creative cost of chasing validation.“What has helped me is accepting reality. Theatrical footfalls are still below pre-COVID levels in many markets, pressure is high across producers, actors, exhibitors, and audiences, and attention is now fragmented with short-form and micro-dramas. So, the success metric and goal posts constantly change. Hence, I am less worried about judgment and more focused on adaptability. What concerns me majorly, though ,is how detached we are becoming from craft in the rush to chase fads and trends.”Kashika Kapoor reframes judgment as a discipline.
“Judgment is inevitable when your work is public. What it gave me was emotional discipline. I’ve learned to separate feedback from self-worth and relevance from purpose. Numbers tell you where you are; they don’t tell you who you are.”For her, grounding comes from purpose.“Staying anchored in the joy of the work keeps the noise in perspective.”
The missing safety nets on set
Across experiences, one absence stands out sharply: emotional infrastructure.For Alexx O’Nell, the answer is simple.“Mentorship.”He describes an industry that looks glamorous but operates chaotically.“It’s long hours of waiting, sudden chaos, and months of preparation that can come down to a single take.”As a newcomer, especially one working across cultures and languages, confusion is inevitable.“You assume everyone else understands the rules, the politics, the unspoken expectations.”Without guidance, self-doubt grows.“So when you feel lost, you turn it inward and blame yourself.”What he wanted was reassurance.“This industry is strange for all of us. You’re not failing. You’re learning.”Vishakha Singh is more direct and systemic in her demands.“A real, functional HR and mental-health system—not lip service.”She highlights what didn’t exist when she started.“A decade back, I wish there had been on-set counsellors, intimacy coordinators, and confidential grievance redressal systems that worked without fear of retaliation.”She acknowledges rare exceptions.“As a newcomer, vulnerability is real. Even when you are working with good people, you are still fragile. For instance, the emotional well-being, safety and warmth, I experienced as an actor, with established production houses like Excel Entertainment and Ashutosh Gowarikar Productions was rare and I had not seen this on many other sets.”Kashika Kapoor emphasises normalisation.“I would’ve loved more normalized conversations around emotional well-being—not as a weakness, but as part of professionalism.”Her belief is simple.“When people feel safe, seen, and supported, creativity expands. A set that values mental clarity produces not just better performances, but healthier artists.”
What reform could truly change Bollywood?
If change is to come, it must address roots—not symptoms.For Alexx O’Nell, the answer lies in reconnecting cinema with theatre.“Theatre is where humility, discipline, and emotional honesty are learned.”He laments how theatre is treated today.“It’s treated like a hobby, not a foundation.”Investment in theatre, he argues, could reshape the industry.“Entitlement would shrink, preparation would deepen, and opportunities would be earned through ability, not lineage.”His own grounding came from theatre.“Ten years of theater, where you earn your place night after night in front of a live audience.”Vishakha Singh focuses on structure.“We need improved standardised contracts, payment timelines, scheduling discipline, and real penalties for breaches.”But she also stresses preparation for a changed ecosystem.“Digital is now the biggest growth engine. Audience behaviour has shifted, content cycles are faster, and so is fame. Producers are navigating tighter budgets, faster churn, and constant reinvention. What we need now is preparation ; for producers, actors, and talent alike. Fame is a fickle companion.”Her call is clear.“The industry needs better systems to emotionally and professionally equip people for its highs and lows.” Kashika Kapoor looks toward leadership.“A shift toward authentic leadership—where success is shared, voices are heard, and preparation is valued over pressure.”Her vision is collaborative, not hierarchical.“When collaboration replaces hierarchy, the industry becomes a space where talent doesn’t just survive—it thrives.”From spectacle to sustainabilityTaken together, these voices reveal an industry at a crossroads. Bollywood continues to sell dreams, but often asks its artists to carry uncertainty, judgment and emotional isolation in silence. The cost of that silence is becoming harder to ignore.And perhaps, as these conversations suggest, the next chapter of Bollywood’s growth depends less on numbers—and more on listening. Go to Source
