‘Screenwriters Inc.’ brings Bollywood screenwriters into the spotlight, recognising their vital work

Screenwriters Inc. is a collection of interviews Mihir Chitre conducted during lockdown for the Hindustan Times. A passion project became 33 conversations with Indian directors and screenwriters from the 20th and 21st centuries. The book treats screenwriters as central creative figures, not invisible service providers.

Its main purpose is to expose a gap in public understanding. Audiences often remember stars, songs, and films, but overlook the writers who create the stories and characters behind them. The interviews also show how difficult the profession was, especially when writing contracts and independent creative authority were rare.

The book therefore restores screenwriters to the history of Indian cinema. It includes well-known figures and writers unfamiliar to many readers, while tracing changes involving gender, queer representation, and OTT platforms. Its broader implication is clear: understanding cinema requires noticing the people who imagine its worlds before production begins.

Screenwriters Inc. contains 33 interviews. Together, they represent some of the finest Indian directors and screenwriters associated with the 20th and 21st centuries. The collection is broad rather than limited to one generation or one kind of career.

The interviews recall different periods and routes into filmmaking. Some writers came through 1970s FTII, while others worked in Hindi cinema during the 1980s and 1990s. Several began in small-town Bihar, Delhi, Hyderabad, or other settings before reaching Mumbai. Imtiaz Ali describes Bombay as a meeting point for middle-class, small-town aspirants.

The collection also includes contemporary voices working amid changing ideas about gender, queer representation, and creative access. OTT platforms form part of this newer landscape. The result is a conversation across eras, showing how Indian screenwriting moved from informal, undervalued work toward a more open and recognised profession.

Indian screenwriters are vital because they often originate the stories, characters, and structures that become films. Without their work, the familiar stars, songs, and performances would have no shaped narrative to inhabit. Yet audiences commonly remember the actors, music, and finished film more than the writer.

The article links this habit to India’s strong culture of film-star worship. People follow stars and preview music before release, while the screenwriter remains largely invisible. Mihir Chitre asks how many Indian screenwriters are known outside the film industry. The question exposes the gap between creative importance and public recognition.

The interviews matter because they make that hidden labour visible. They show writers working through weak professional structures, limited dignity, and changing social expectations. By placing their experiences alongside famous films and filmmakers, the book encourages audiences to see cinema as a written creation as well as a performance and spectacle.

Hindi-film screenwriters in the 1980s and 1990s generally lacked the status of independent filmmakers. Anjum Rajabali recalls that the writer’s own vision, separate from the director’s, was not really recognised in Hindi cinema. Writing was often treated as an extra service rather than a distinct profession deserving dignity.

The clearest sign was contractual insecurity. Rajabali says the idea of a writing contract was unheard of during those decades. Without a contract, a writer’s contribution, payment, credit, and creative responsibilities could remain unclear. This made the writer vulnerable within a filmmaking system organised around directors, producers, and stars.

Writing contracts mattered because they could formalise the writer’s place in production. They would recognise authorship and establish professional expectations. Rajabali’s work with the Screenwriters Association, India, responds to this history. The book presents that work as grounded in real problems faced by writers, not merely as an abstract campaign for status.

Women, queer, and non-binary creators encountered different but overlapping barriers in Indian screenwriting. Sai Paranjpye questioned whether gender or her limited understanding of money affected her earnings. Ruchi Narain secured her first screenwriting opportunity only after working as a costume designer and assistant director.

Queer and non-binary themes also faced resistance. Onir describes censorship problems while directing Shab in 2017. He nevertheless sees changing attitudes, pointing to growing openness toward gay, trans, and gender-diverse superheroes. Ishita Moitra adds that gender mattered more when she entered the industry because there were fewer women screenwriters.

The current picture is more inclusive, though the earlier barriers remain important context. Moitra says a woman is increasingly seen as simply a writer, not a “woman writer.” Onir’s observation about expanding possibilities suggests cultural change. OTT platforms reinforce this shift by opening creative opportunities to writers from varied backgrounds.

OTT platforms changed Indian screenwriting by opening more creative doors. The article presents them as an important reason writers can now gain opportunities regardless of their background. This broadens who gets to tell stories and which experiences can appear on screen.

The mechanism is increased access to writing work beyond older film-industry pathways. Previously, writers might need to enter through roles such as costume design or assistant direction, as Ruchi Narain did. Gender also carried greater weight when Ishita Moitra began, partly because there were fewer women screenwriters. New platforms create more room for different voices.

This does not erase the barriers described by the interviewees, including weak professional recognition and censorship. But it signals a more accepting industry. Moitra’s view that a woman is now simply a writer captures that shift. OTT’s continuing importance lies in making Indian storytelling less dependent on established identities and traditional routes into cinema.

A screenplay is the written blueprint for a film or series. In standard filmmaking terms, it organises the story, characters, scenes, dialogue, and visible action. It gives the production a structure before actors perform, cameras record, or music shapes the audience’s emotional experience.

The screenplay shapes a film by turning an idea into a sequence of events. It establishes what characters want, what they say, what happens, and how scenes connect. Directors interpret that plan, while actors, cinematographers, editors, and composers bring its possibilities into finished form. The article’s phrase “the writer is the first film-maker” captures this foundation.

The book argues that this creative starting point deserves recognition. Rajabali says Hindi cinema historically did not grant writers an independent vision. The interviews show why that matters: films may be remembered through stars and songs, but their worlds begin in writing. Greater recognition, contracts, and OTT opportunities could strengthen that foundation.