Kranthi Nag

You’ve been acting since the age of 12 what was it like growing up surrounded by the film industry, especially with your parents being so involved behind the scenes?

Growing up around the film industry wasn’t just influential—it was formative. My father was film financier in the Telugu film industry, and both my parents were involved in the silver recovery process from film reels, back when everything was shot on celluloid. So from a very young age, I was surrounded by cans of film, reels, and stories being developed frame by frame—literally. Summers weren’t spent at camps; they were spent on film sets, watching directors call action and crews bring magic to life.

That kind of exposure shapes your imagination in a very specific way. I wasn’t just watching movies—I was watching them being made. I saw the chaos, the craft, the collaboration. And it gave me a deep respect for every layer of storytelling, from the gaffer to the lead actor.

At 12, I got my first acting role in Current (2009), a Telugu feature film produced by Annapurna Studios. Being on set with some of the most acclaimed talent in the industry—that was my first real taste of what it meant to be part of something bigger than yourself. It lit a spark that never went out.

Later, I spent years in the UK, where British theatre further deepened my appreciation for performance. That contrast—being raised in the heart of the South Indian film industry and then being exposed to European theatrical traditions—really shaped how I approach my work today. It’s a blend of instinct, discipline, and storytelling that’s stayed with me ever since.

Your latest film Comet Orphan just premiered at Cannes congratulations! How did it feel to see your work screened at such a prestigious festival?

Thank you so much! Watching Comet Orphan premiere at the Marché du Film during the Cannes Film Festival 2025 was truly one of the most unforgettable moments of my career so far. What made it even more special was knowing the journey it took to get there. From growing up on film sets, acting for the first time at 12, to training at The Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute in Los Angeles—every step led to that moment. It was a powerful reminder that when you commit to the craft and stay true to your passion, the world eventually meets you halfway.

From Current in 2009 to your recent work in Los Angeles, how would you say your artistic voice and acting style have evolved over the years?

That’s a great question. Starting out with Current back in 2009 as a 12-year-old on a bustling Telugu film set was like being thrown into the deep end of a world I already loved. Watching some of the most celebrated stars perform up close taught me early on how much discipline and magic go into great storytelling. At that point, everything was instinct—raw, unfiltered enthusiasm for being on set and becoming someone else, even for a moment.

But over the years, especially after moving to Los Angeles and graduating from The Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute, I’ve learned how to refine that instinct with craft. Method acting gave me the tools to explore characters more deeply—to not just play the role, but live in it. Whether it’s something intense like Chop Chop or more stylized like Comet Orphan, my goal is always the same: to serve the story truthfully.

So I’d say my artistic voice today is more grounded, more intentional. I still carry that passion I had at 12, but now it’s matched with a deeper understanding of character, emotion, and presence. It’s been a journey of growing up both as a person and as a performer—and I’m still evolving with every role.

What drew you to method acting, and how has your time at The Lee Strasberg Institute shaped the way you approach a role?

What drew me to method acting was the emotional depth it demands—the kind that makes a performance linger long after the credits roll. Early on, I had a unique window into the world of filmmaking. My parents worked behind the scenes in the Telugu film industry, and I spent a lot of my childhood around movie productions, watching the entire process unfold. It wasn’t glamorous—it was raw, technical, and deeply human. That experience gave me a respect for the craft and a hunger to explore it from the inside out.

When I enrolled at The Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute in Los Angeles, I wasn’t just looking to act—I wanted to live the roles I played. Strasberg’s approach taught me how to channel personal memory and emotional truth into performance in a way that felt honest and fully immersive. It challenged me, stripped away artifice, and grounded me as an actor.

Whether I’m leading a film like Chop Chop, The Cocktail Party, or Comet Orphan, that foundation is always with me. Every role begins with finding what’s real—internally—and building out from there. That’s what method has given me: not just technique, but a way of seeing and feeling that guides everything I do on screen.

You’ve worked in both Indian cinema and the American independent film scene what are some of the biggest contrasts you’ve noticed between the two worlds?

Working in both Indian cinema and the American independent film scene has been eye-opening and creatively fulfilling in completely different ways. Coming from the Telugu film industry—where my journey began at age 12 with Current (2009)—the energy on set was always dynamic, larger-than-life, and driven by star power and scale. There’s a real rhythm to how things are made in Indian cinema, especially in commercial films—it’s fast-paced, sometimes chaotic, but always rich with emotion and tradition.

On the other hand, the American indie scene—especially here in Los Angeles—feels much more intimate and experimental. It’s less about spectacle and more about nuance. Films like Chop Chop and The Cocktail Party gave me the space to explore characters with depth, ambiguity, and silence. There’s a big emphasis on storytelling through subtext, restraint, and atmosphere. That’s something I’ve grown to love—especially through method acting, which I honed during my time at The Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute.

In the end, what excites me most is navigating the contrast—stepping between worlds, learning different languages of cinema, and evolving through every project. That duality has sharpened my instincts, deepened my craft, and constantly reminded me that there’s no single way to tell a powerful story.

You mentioned being inspired by British theatre while living in the U.K. Are there any particular plays or performances that left a lasting impression on you?

Living in the U.K. had a profound influence on me as an actor. Being immersed in the British theatre scene, especially witnessing the work of the Royal Shakespeare Company and The National Theatre in London, felt like stepping into the heartbeat of classical performance. There’s a kind of rigor and poetic precision in the way those actors interpret Shakespeare—it’s deeply disciplined yet emotionally unfiltered.

One production that truly left a mark on me was Coriolanus. The emotional restraint, the inner conflict, the sheer force of character—it was magnetic. That play taught me how powerful silence can be, how stillness and tension can hold just as much weight as a monologue. It challenged me to look inward as an actor, to listen more, and to trust the power of presence.

Those experiences weren’t just inspiring—they were formative. They shaped the lens through which I now view performance, and they’ve stayed with me throughout my training at The Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute in Los Angeles. The intersection of classical theatre and method acting gave me a deeper emotional vocabulary—and that blend continues to inform everything I do on screen.

Your film Chop Chop won multiple awards including Best Acting what do you think made your performance in that film resonate so strongly with audiences and juries?

Chop Chop was one of those rare projects where everything—the writing, the atmosphere, the emotional undercurrent—challenged me in all the right ways. The film leans heavily into tone and subtext, and what made it compelling for me as an actor was the silence between the lines. There’s a sense of danger, desire, and unpredictability simmering beneath the surface, and it required a kind of restraint that was emotionally intense but never overt.

I think what resonated with both audiences and juries is that the performance wasn’t just about delivering lines—it was about embodying everything that wasn’t being said. That kind of vulnerability, especially in a story that’s a little gory, a little passionate, and completely unpredictable, can catch people off guard in the best way. Winning Best of Fest, Best Screenplay & Best Acting at the 3×5 Film Festival in Los Angeles was incredibly rewarding

In your experience, what’s the biggest challenge for emerging actors in Los Angeles today and how have you navigated it personally?

Los Angeles is an exciting place to be an actor—it’s a city that runs on vision and momentum. But even in the middle of all that energy, the real key is knowing exactly who you are and what you bring to the table. For me, that’s always come from staying connected to the work. Training at The Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute shaped that foundation. It taught me to approach each role with integrity and depth, to never rush the emotional truth of a character.

In films like Chop Chop, where the atmosphere and subtext do the heavy lifting, I found a kind of stillness that speaks louder than words. And in The Cocktail Party, which was fast-paced and laced with humor, I had to bring that same inner clarity while playing with rhythm and wit. Each project, no matter how different in tone, calls for the same level of commitment.

There’s a Brad Pitt quote I really connect with: ‘You must lose everything in order to gain anything.’ I think as actors, that speaks to the courage it takes to strip away ego, expectation, and perfection—to be fully present and honest in the work. For me, it’s not about disappearing into a role—it’s about illuminating something honest, something human, that lives at the core of every character. When you tap into that truth with focus and restraint, it resonates in a way that lingers long after the scene ends.

Do you see yourself writing, directing, or producing in the future, given your deep roots in cinema and your family’s connection to the craft?

At this point, no—I’m not looking to write, direct, or produce. I know those are natural paths for a lot of actors, but for me, the joy has always been in the performance itself. I’ve been around film my whole life, I’ve seen what happens behind the curtain—and while I have deep respect for the people who build the machine, I’ve always known I belong in front of the camera. That’s where I feel most at home. That moment between ‘action’ and ‘cut’—that’s where I feel most alive. So right now, I’m all in on acting.

Finally, what kind of stories do you feel most called to tell as an actor what themes or characters move you the most right now?

I’m drawn to roles that live in that delicate space between control and vulnerability. Where the real weight sits in the silences, the pauses, the things left unsaid. I’ve always been fascinated by performances that don’t chase attention but hold it effortlessly. Brad Pitt and Pierce Brosnan have that kind of presence—you feel them thinking, calculating, even when they’re still. It’s not about doing more, it’s about doing it with precision. That’s the kind of storytelling I’m interested in—measured, intentional, and quietly magnetic.

There’s a quote from Jean-Luc Godard I’ve always loved: “Sometimes reality is too complex. Stories give it form.” That’s exactly what acting is for me. I’m not here to explain everything. I’m here to inhabit something honestly—and let the audience lean in and discover the rest. That’s when it stays with you.”