Vir Das says his journey is different from Zakir Khan or Kapil Sharma: ‘One is steeped in poetry, the other's a Punjabi everyman; I'm from nowhere'

Indian Express

18-07-2025

Vir Das is the only Indian stand-up comic to have six stand-up specials on Netflix. After Abroad Understanding (2017), Losing It (2019), For India (2020), Outside In (2020), and the International Emmy Award-winning Landing (2022), comes Vir Das: Fool Volume. It's been shot across three settings — a stadium in Mumbai, a church in London, and an underground cellar in New York. In an exclusive interview with SCREEN, Das talks about his sixth Netflix stand-up special, his brand of comedy, being an outsider, and losing his voice days before he had to record the show.
Did you go into Fool Volume with the baggage of an International Emmy Award?
The opening line of this special is, 'I won an Emmy and that means very little.' It's Kryptonite in certain situations. I don't take that seriously at all. The Emmy is in a cupboard right now with my garam kapda, with my wife's sweaters, some boots, and down jackets.
You performed across three cities — Mumbai, London, and New York — for the same stand-up special. Did you change your set according to the setting?
It was like making a movie. Mumbai was unrehearsed because my voice came back two days before the show. Usually, when you shoot a stand-up special, you've done 180 trial shows and you know every punchline. I rewrote this show entirely in my mind in silence within six weeks. And then we went up and shot it with 17 cameras virtually unrehearsed. But there's a nice raw energy to the Mumbai show.
In London, we did the show at this beautiful church. The more outward-looking portions of the show, where you're talking about racism or the world at large, they're set in London. I wanted to use London as the soapbox to talk to the world. And then, in a documentary, there's a talking head which becomes the voice of the special. New York was that. It's like you saw these two wonderful presentations and then the comedian walked into the basement to tell you the truth about them. In that sense, I know it's asking a bit more from the audience. A normal stand-up special has lights, smoke, aaya, joke sunaya, gaya. But here, I'm asking you to travel through time and nations. At some level, we wanted to show that Indian comedians can write for the world as well.
Do the audiences in these three cities respond differently to comedy?
I think they're pretty similar. In London or New York, 50-70% of the audience is local. So I have to explain certain things to them. But the Indian audience is very patient. They're like, 'Mujhe bhi dekhna hai kaise samjhata hai.' There's a moment where I explain a gaali to the people at the cellar. You should look at the Indian audience's faces — how will he make our 500-year-old gaali palatable to these guys. For them, it's a test I have to pass. But largely, if you're the loser in the story, that's funny and relatable to everybody.
In the special, you talk about the local discrimination against being an English-speaking comedian in India. Have you ever grappled with the fact that you may win all the Emmys, perform all these Netflix stand-up specials and gain global recognition, but you won't win the core audience in a way that a Zakir Khan or a Kapil Sharma does?
No, perhaps my journey is to have deeper interactions with a smaller group of people over a longer period of time. To do what both of them do, which is masterful in their own way, you have to be where they're from and have their own lived-in experiences. You can see Zakir grew up in classical music and poetry. And Kapil Sharma is so much your Punjab everyman travelling through India. I'm not from anywhere. Unfortunately, I've grown up everywhere so I'll have to be who I am. If I ever tried to do that, you'd smell the inauthenticity in the material.
Do you pick up anything from them when you watch Kapil Sharma and Zakir Khan perform?
Ya! I like watching art that makes you angry and makes you want to be better. I go to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe once a year, where I see a random 25-year-old comedian who's written a show that I was never capable of at 25. So I'll go back and write some more. But we all support each other. I did a trial show at Soho Theatre, London last month. Zakir was in town, he popped up and watched my whole thing. I don't know Kapil very well. Of course, we've met only intermittently. But comedians on the comedy circuit in India are always WhatsApping each other and are in each other's feedback loop.
You heaped praises on Aamir Khan's Sitaare Zameen Par by saying it gave stakes to the neurodivergent actors, who never get to perform comedy. You've worked with Aamir Khan Productions in Delhi Belly (2011), an adult comedy, a far cry from the broad comedy of Sitaare Zameen Par. Do you think more creators should help bridge this gap between these two schools of humour?
In a comedy scene, usually the person with power drives the comedy scene. What I loved about Sitaare Zameen Par is it places the power with those who usually don't get that. A superstar like Aamir gave the driving seat to someone else. It takes a very secure and good artist to do that. Delhi Belly and Sitaare Zameen Par are very different bookends of entertainment. I think there's an audience that will watch a very broad comedy, but also watch an extremely nuanced hasya kavi muqabla with shero shayari and Urdu lyricism. I think it's what you want on the day. I just made a Hindi movie with Aamir Khan Productions, which will be for an audience way larger than my stand-up comedy audience. My audience will go and watch Zakir. We're at this wonderful place in India right now, where there's purchasing power and intent. Hindi-speakers are going for Coldplay, English-speakers are going for Diljit Dosanjh, it's great. People just want something new, and an experience! I hope the two Indias are coming closer. That's the dream, right?
You're releasing your memoir The Outsider at the end of this year. How do you think being the outsider aids you?
I sometimes feel I have more freedom to talk about America than an American comic. Because American comedy is very steeped in silos of ideology. So you can come in as a rank outsider and say, 'Bro, I don't understand any of this. Here's how I see it.' And it's a perspective they're not used to hearing at all. I've been in Mumbai for 18 years. I consider myself a proud Mumbaikar. You want to have what you didn't have growing up. I wasn't raised in India, which wasn't my choice, but there's nothing I crave more than to take India across the world.
When you entered the comedy circuit in India, there wasn't much of a scene then. A lot of comics today, like Varun Grover and Tanmay Bhat, credit you for that foot in the door. Do you think you've gotten enough credit from the new breed of comics?
Let's be clear — Johnny Lever, Boman Irani, Ash Chandler, Papa CJ, and Bharat Dabolkar were all doing stand-ups way before I entered the scene. I don't want credit, just give me cash yaar. Who cares who founded what? Cash dene ka! Tanmay, make ads for all those people, bas cash bhej aur kuchh nahi. I just want laughter. What's credit worth, compared to laughs?
Why do you think no comic before or after you has been able to cross over like you have?
Yet! I've had a global childhood, so that's definitely aided me with global touring. But every single comic now is touring abroad. Yes, they're performing for an Indian audience. I get the distinction. But I also think we're on the cusp of this Indian soft power, cultural open door. It happened, for instance, with Korean cinema when the entire world began consuming that. It's something begun by RRR (2022) and All We Imagine As Light (2024). It's just two-three years away.
Do you think being a part of movies has also helped you with your popularity as a stand-up comic?
I've never been a film star, to be very clear. I haven't done a movie in nine years! I walked away from movies very clearly at a certain point because I sensed this opportunity and calling. I wouldn't have been able to do both, so I gave comedy everything. Eighty percent of my audience is between 16-30 years old. They're very young! They found me as a comic. They don't know I'm the bald guy from Delhi Belly. Having said that, God's been kind, the tribe has grown, and I hope it's enough for them to come see me in a movie later this year.
What has shifted within you from your first Netflix stand-up special, Abroad Understanding, to Fool Volume?
A special is just a snapshot of who you are at that moment. And Fool Volume is what I am now. I lost my voice, so after that, I wanted to do something silly and fun. Landing (2022) was also fun, but it was heavy. I was like, it's time to be a fool again. Why Netflix and I keep going is because I blackmail them every year. I guilt-trip them into giving me a special, how about that (laughs)?
What's more frustrating? Losing your physical voice or losing your political voice?
Losing your physical voice. The two months I went without my voice, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. It's a terrible, terrible experience. Not being able to communicate, asking for a cup of chai, to sit with your thoughts for six weeks? It's a lot! The kind of medication and vocal therapy you have to take in order to get it back, it's like learning to walk again, except it's tougher.
Also Read — Rishi Kapoor, Katrina Kaif got up and left when it was time for Vir Das' close-up: 'They had umbrellas, I was left to bake in sun'
Finally, you recently shared on social media that we seek a lot of idols online, but we shouldn't be doing that. What do you have to say to those who idolize you?
I have an audience, I don't have a fanbase. Fanbase idolizes. Audience is like, 'I like this, I don't like this, try something different.' Nobody's throwing their underwear at me and asking for a selfie. It's all handshakes and comedians. There are way better people than comics to idolize, and my audience knows that.
Vir Das: Fool Volume drops on Netflix on July 18.