Written by Tanisha Cardozo || Team Allycaral
Swapnil Salkar’s journey into filmmaking didn’t begin with clarity—it began with confusion. And honestly, that’s what makes it so relatable.
At 17, like many others trying to follow a “secure” path, he chose medicine. Enrolling in an MBBS program wasn’t just a career decision—it was also about living up to expectations, especially those shaped by family. But even while navigating textbooks and lectures, there was another side to him quietly growing stronger. He wrote poetry, stories, even drama—creative expressions that hinted at something deeper waiting to surface.
It didn’t take long for that internal conflict to become impossible to ignore.
Something didn’t align.
And that simple realization led to a much bigger question—who was he, really?
What followed wasn’t a sudden breakthrough, but a phase of exploration. Swapnil began trying different forms of expression, almost like searching for a language that felt truly his. Music came first. He picked up the guitar and flute, even played in a band. For a while, it seemed like this could be it. But slowly, doubt crept in. He felt he had started too late, that he might never reach the level he envisioned.
Writing, which had once felt natural, also began to feel limiting. Not because he didn’t love it—but because it didn’t fully capture everything he wanted to say.
And then, cinema happened.
During his college years, exposure to world cinema and a filmmaking workshop changed everything. It wasn’t just about watching films—it was about understanding them. Breaking them down. Feeling them differently.
For the first time, he found a medium that didn’t ask him to choose between his interests. Cinema allowed him to combine them all—music, writing, visuals, performance. It was collaborative, layered, and limitless.
It felt like home.
Like many filmmakers, his influences were shaped by what moved him. The raw honesty of Anurag Kashyap left a strong impression early on. He admired the craftsmanship of Vijay Anand and the storytelling brilliance of Salim–Javed, even before he consciously realized their impact.
Over time, his cinematic world expanded. Filmmakers like Mani Ratnam and Mahesh Bhatt added new layers to his understanding of storytelling.
Across regions and borders, inspiration continued to flow—from Lijo Jose Pellissery and Umesh Kulkarni to global masters like Bong Joon-ho, Akira Kurosawa, Park Chan-wook, and Martin Scorsese. He also holds Billy Wilder among his absolute favorites, alongside Woody Allen and Kathryn Bigelow.
Beyond cinema, literature shaped him just as deeply—especially the works of Haruki Murakami. But above everything else, Swapnil believes that life itself is the greatest teacher.
His approach to storytelling reflects that belief.
Ideas don’t arrive in a structured format. They come as fragments—a visual, a feeling, a line of dialogue, sometimes even a news report. His film Stolen was born from one such moment—a disturbing real-life incident where misinformation spread through WhatsApp led to mob lynching. But instead of simply recreating the event, he chose to explore the psychology behind it. Why do people behave the way they do in a crowd? What drives fear into violence?
That curiosity became the foundation of the film.
His process is meticulous but organic. A spark becomes a premise. A premise becomes a logline. That expands into a paragraph, and eventually a detailed treatment of 30 to 40 pages. Only then does the screenplay begin.
And even then, it’s just the beginning.
The first draft—often stretching between 100 to 150 pages—is far from final. For Swapnil, writing is rewriting. And in filmmaking, rewriting doesn’t stop on paper—it continues on set, and even in the editing room.
Collaboration plays a crucial role here, especially with actors. During Stolen, he remained closely involved throughout the shoot, constantly refining scenes. He values the way actors interpret moments, often catching nuances that might escape a writer or director too close to the material.
But like most independent filmmakers, the journey hasn’t been without challenges.
Reaching the right audience remains one of the biggest hurdles. While mainstream films like Pushpa: The Rise are built for mass appeal, independent cinema often struggles with distribution—both in theatres and on OTT platforms.
This is where film festivals become vital.
For Swapnil, they weren’t just platforms—they were gateways. Stolen connected with audiences far beyond India, resonating in countries like Italy, Germany, and China. Its premiere at the Venice Film Festival in 2023 marked a defining moment in his journey.
But what makes that milestone even more powerful is the journey behind it.
The film began in November 2019 and went through nearly 70 drafts before reaching its final form. Years of persistence, doubt, rewriting, and rebuilding—all leading to a story that finally found its audience.
At its core, Swapnil’s work is driven by connection.
He wants audiences to feel something—whether it’s laughter, discomfort, fear, or empathy. He sees himself as both an entertainer and a storyteller, someone who can engage while also making people think.
And he’s far from done exploring.
Currently, he’s venturing into horror and thriller genres, while also working on a deeply personal story about two societal misfits—another example of his instinct to explore the human condition from different angles.
On a personal level, the success of Stolen brought something beyond professional validation.
It brought emotional closure.
Walking away from medicine without industry backing wasn’t easy. But today, seeing his parents proud of the path he chose—that makes it all worth it.
Stories, for Swapnil, are not just a profession—they’re a way of life. He consumes them endlessly—books, films, poetry, graphic novels. There are days he watches three to four films back-to-back, simply because he wants to understand storytelling better.
And if you asked him which fictional world he’d step into?
It would be Breaking Bad—to experience life as Walter White.
Because at the end of the day, what fascinates him most isn’t just stories—it’s people. Their choices, their contradictions, their journeys.
And maybe that’s why, if given a superpower, he wouldn’t choose invisibility or flight.
He’d choose storytelling.
The power to move people. To persuade. To connect.
Because sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do… is tell a story well.
