by In contemporary cinema and streaming drama, where spectacle, fast pacing, and instant emotional signposts tend to dominate storytelling, a project that embraces silence — not as absence but as presence — stands out immediately. Daldal, a recent film/series (depending on distribution), has stirred intense discussion among critics, creators, and audiences precisely because it upends these norms.
At the heart of the conversation is Bhumi Pednekar’s performance — restrained, controlled, and deliberately unexpressive. Unlike many protagonists who articulate inner turbulence through dialogue, tears, or explosive behavior, Pednekar’s character remains largely quiet, withholding emotion — especially until a pivotal shift.
During an exclusive interview with Bollywood Hungama, interviewer Rohit Khilnani confessed how unsettling that silence was, even for a viewer who approaches content with curiosity and patience. “As a viewer,” Khilnani said, “I kept wondering where this character was going … and then it goes somewhere completely unexpected.”
This “slow burn” is not accidental. It is intentional. Daldal weaponizes silence, stillness, and emotional withholding — not as mere aesthetic, but as its sharpest creative tool.
Bhumi’s own journey with the character — her doubts, the director’s encouragement, and her eventual acceptance of the stillness — reveals not only technical craft but a philosophical shift in storytelling.
This article explores:
- What it means to use silence as a narrative weapon;
- How Daldal resists easy emotional cues and why that matters;
- The psychology and technical craft behind restrained performances;
- Audience expectations in an age of instant gratification; and
- Why Daldal is a significant creative risk — and payoff — in modern cinematic storytelling.
1. Silence Isn’t Empty — It’s Measured and Intentional
When Bhumi Pednekar says, “She doesn’t express anything except anger,” she is describing a layered creative choice, not a deficiency.
Traditionally, audiences and mainstream scripts rely on:
- Expository dialogue (telling rather than showing);
- Externalized emotion (crying, angry outbursts, confrontations);
- Instant clarity (a character’s motivations revealed early);
- Cueing (music, camera language that tells the viewer what to feel).
Daldal deliberately reverses these conventions.
The protagonist’s silence is not vacancy; it represents:
- Suppression of feeling — not because the character lacks emotion, but because she is overwhelmed by it;
- Internalization — an emotional footing that can’t be easily verbalized;
- Psychological realism — where trauma, confusion, or existential emptiness manifests not as noise, but as absence.
As Bhumi explained, silence becomes unbearable because it accomplishes something that loud performances cannot — it forces the viewer to sit with discomfort rather than escape it.
This choice is radical because silence, paradoxically, demands more attention than noise. When a character refuses to express, every micro‑gesture, breath, eye movement, and pause becomes highly significant.
In the interview, the refrain that the character “only expresses anger” shows how limited external expression can actually amplify emotional tension — especially in contrast to inner life that’s rich but inaccessible to speech.
2. The Unsettling Experience of the Viewer
Rohit Khilnani’s reaction — that he felt disoriented, unsure where the character was going — highlights a presentational risk that Daldal took intentionally.
Most narratives give viewers:
- A roadmap — clear emotional arcs;
- Signposts — cues for empathy and understanding;
- Early investment triggers — reasons to like, dislike, or relate to a character immediately.
Daldal withholds these constructs.
When a narrative doesn’t explain itself early, many viewers experience:
- Discomfort — confusion about character intention;
- Curiosity — “Why won’t she open up?”;
- Anxiety — expectation of clarification that never comes; and
- Delayed payoff — meaning unfolds much later through subtle shifts.
This is not just stylistic rebellion. It’s a calculated choice that leverages the psychology of suspense without spectacle.
Silence here functions similar to what acclaimed writer‑director Andrei Tarkovsky described as inner sound — where what isn’t said matters as much as what is said. The viewer’s own imagination fills the gaps.
Critically, this technique asks the viewer to participate in the story:
- To interpret minor clues,
- To sit with ambiguity,
- To feel unsettled rather than entertained.
This is a rare invitation in mainstream entertainment.
3. Why Withholding Emotion Is a Radical Act
Boiled down, the central creative choice in Daldal is this: the character’s inner truth is not available through external display until much later. But why is this radical?
3.1 Modern Narratives Are Conditioned for Expression
In most films and shows — especially commercial ones — characters:
- Reveal feelings quickly,
- Use dialogue to signal subtext,
- Offer backstory early,
- And signal clarity to avoid confusion.
These mechanisms help viewers understand, sympathize, and connect quickly — which is often crucial for engagement.
But Daldal refuses to spoon‑feed.
Silence in this context acts as:
- A mask — showing anger only;
- A defensive shield — preventing deeper access;
- An emotional blank canvas — forcing viewers to wonder and reflect.
This approach puts the character closer to real human experience — when people don’t always express what they feel, especially in trauma or limbo.
4. Bhumi’s Initial Self‑Doubt and Trusting Stillness
One of the most revealing parts of the interview was Bhumi Pednekar’s admission that she initially doubted whether she was doing enough.
Every actor knows the temptation — when a character is silent, the performance can feel small, hidden, or inaccessible. Yet this is precisely the point.
4.1 Discipline Over Drama
The choice to embrace stillness is an exercise in discipline. It means:
- Trusting that nervous glances, micro‑movements, and tiny shifts carry weight;
- Believing that absence of speech can evoke emotional depth;
- Accepting that restraint can be more powerful than theatrical expression.
Bhumi didn’t instantly feel confident about this. She questioned whether a character who “doesn’t express anything except anger” could carry a narrative in a way that connects with audiences. That self‑doubt is understandable — especially when conventional storytelling rewards visible emotion.
But when the makers encouraged her to trust the stillness, she began to see the psychological reality of the character — that feeling blank, lost, or amputated from emotional articulation is real and deeply human.
This is vital: authenticity doesn’t always look dramatic on the surface.
5. The Writer’s Intent: Blankness as Reality
Writer Amrit Raj Gupta explained the logic behind this emotional withholding: “If she feels lost, if she feels blank — that’s real.”
Instead of manufacturing drama through dialogue or reaction, Daldal chooses representational truth — even if it feels inert or stagnant. But this stillness isn’t empty; it’s psychological presence withheld.
Think of it this way:
- A character who cries is expressing pain;
- A character who screams is communicating intensity;
- A character who smiles is giving an emotional cue.
But a character who remains blank and silent?
That character forces the viewer to wonder — what is she feeling beneath the surface?
This silence becomes a mirror — not of the character alone but of our own expectations of emotional clarity.
6. Cinema and Television Have Underused Silence
Silence has been celebrated in global cinema — from Kurosawa to Antonioni to Tarkovsky to Chantal Akerman. In Western auteur cinema, silence often:
- Reflects existential uncertainty,
- Amplifies environmental texture,
- Creates a psychological fracture,
- Or becomes a tool of narrative slow burn.
In mainstream Indian cinema — including narrative TV and OTT originals — silence is usually shorter and explanatory dialogue longer. Emotional expression is frequently externalized through song, speech, or heightened display.
Daldal interrupts this pattern.
When silence lasts — perhaps too long for conventional comfort — it:
- Heightens tension;
- Suspends emotional certainty;
- Forces the viewer to wait rather than to understand immediately.
This kind of kinetic plateauing is rare in big commercial projects — especially those marketed to broad audiences who expect clarity and gratification.
7. The Director’s Struggle: Even He Felt Uncomfortable
That the director himself, Suresh Triveni, admitted to struggling with watching parts of the project reveals something crucial: silence is unsettling by design.
Most directors:
- Like clarity of emotion,
- Use performance language to cue audiences,
- And rely on pacing that keeps viewers engaged through obvious tension.
But in Daldal, the discomfort is the point. Silence is not simply absence of sound — it is a tension‑building device that evokes unease, mystery, and psychological immersion.
When the director himself is unsettled watching the scene, it shows:
- How brave the choice is;
- How little emotional signposting is used;
- How deeply intentional the restraint is.
Silence isn’t a shortcut. It’s a risk — because it assumes the viewer will stay engaged even when they are unsure, even when they feel lost.
8. The Payoff: Why Waiting Matters
In the interview, the creative team repeatedly emphasized this: the discomfort is the payoff.
When the character finally shifts — when she breaks silence, reveals vulnerability, or transforms — the impact feels seismic. But it doesn’t come because of spectacle — it arrives because:
- A long period of emotional expectation builds the viewer’s sensitivity;
- The absence becomes charged with unresolved energy;
- The character’s eventual change feels earned, not instantaneous.
This mirrors real psychological processes. In human behavior:
- Sudden outbursts don’t always reflect depth;
- Often, major inner shifts happen after long periods of silence, confusion, or emotional processing;
- People sometimes reveal emotion only when the hidden pressure becomes unsustainable.
By translating this into cinematic language, Daldal bypasses melodrama in favor of psychological truth.
9. Audience Expectations and the Culture of Instant Gratification
We live in an era where:
- Clips go viral in seconds,
- Emotion is often displayed loudly and rapidly,
- Stories are consumed in highlight reels,
- Solutions are expected within minutes of plot introduction.
This conditioning shapes how audiences respond to narrative pacing. Streaming platforms, short‑form content, and binge culture encourage instant clarity — characters who are:
- Expressive early,
- Revealing their intentions fast,
- Easily legible.
Daldal flies in the face of this model. It demands patience — and patience is the very thing modern entertainment often avoids.
This is why Rohit Khilnani — a professional interviewer and viewer accustomed to clear cues — found himself unsettled.
When traditional emotional cues are withheld, our cognitive systems:
- Seek meaning where there is none immediately;
- Project expectations onto silence;
- Feel discomfort because the narrative refuses to confirm assumptions.
This discomfort is productive in the context of Daldal. It forces viewers to not just watch but experience the story.
10. Silence and the Language of Visual Storytelling
If silence is a tool, what else accompanies it?
In Daldal, silence is paired with:
- Measured cinematography — lingering shots, thoughtful framing;
- Minimalistic sound design — absence of score amplifying psychological weight;
- Performance micro‑moments — eye movement, posture shifts, slight head tilts;
- Environmental texture — visuals that reflect interior emotional landscapes.
This synergy turns silence into narrative force.
It’s not that nothing is happening — it’s that the story is happening beneath the surface.
This is similar to cinematic techniques used by:
- Andrei Tarkovsky, who saw silence as sacred space for audience reflection;
- Carl Theodor Dreyer, whose stillness builds profound emotional tension;
- Yasujiro Ozu, whose unspoken pauses reveal inner life more than dialogue.
These are not casual comparisons — they reveal a lineage of crafting meaning through absence rather than abundance.
11. Patience as a Narrative Weapon
At a conceptual level, Daldal uses patience as a storytelling mechanism. The story doesn’t push, it invites. It doesn’t reveal, it hints. It doesn’t explain, it waits.
Patience in storytelling:
- Builds anticipation;
- Deepens immersion;
- Encourages contemplation;
- And transforms passive watching into active engagement.
The narrative tactic is especially powerful because it contrasts sharply with:
- Plot‑driven spectacles,
- Quick emotional beats,
- Obvious motivations, and
- Instant gratification.
This slow burn forces viewers to linger in discomfort until they are ready for payoff — and payoff that arrives without fanfare often lands harder because it is unexpected.
12. The Psychological Anatomy of Restraint
Psychologically speaking, restraint in character performance can reflect:
- Emotional suppression,
- Cognitive dissonance,
- Trauma or shock,
- Inability to articulate pain,
- Cultural contexts of silence.
Pednekar’s character — who “doesn’t express anything except anger” — embodies anger as the surface emotion masking deeper uncertainty. Anger is:
- Visceral,
- Easily recognizable,
- Energetic,
- But it is often a defense — not the core of emotional experience.
By using anger as the only expressed emotion initially, the project:
- Subverts easy empathy by withholding tenderness;
- Makes viewers look beyond surface emotion;
- And sets up a transformation where calm, vulnerability, or clarity feels dramatic precisely because it was absent for so long.
This aligns with psychological realities where individuals sometimes:
- Mask vulnerability with irritability,
- Express frustration instead of sadness,
- Turn to anger when they cannot articulate deeper hurt.
In this way, Daldal doesn’t just tell a story — it maps an emotional architecture that feels authentic, unpredictable, and layered.
13. The Impact of Daldal on Modern Audiences
By daring to embrace stillness, Daldal invites discourse beyond plot and spectacle. It prompts questions like:
- What are viewers willing to endure for deeper meaning?
- How does silence shape emotional resonance?
- Can absence of expression be more powerful than overt drama?
- What does restraint reveal about a character’s inner world?
The fact that professionals — including interviewers and critics — are unsettled speaks to its artistic impact.
This kind of storytelling:
- Expands audience sensibilities;
- Challenges conditioned narrative consumption;
- Encourages emotional intelligence;
- And fosters patience as a narrative virtue.
14. Why Daldal Matters in Today’s Creative Landscape
At a time when many films and series rely on:
- CGI spectacle,
- Fast pacing,
- Clear emotional cues,
- Memorable soundtracks,
- And social media shareability,
Daldal is a bold countercurrent.
It demonstrates that:
- Silence can be emotionally denser than dialogue;
- Stillness can carry more psychological weight than spectacle;
- Unspoken narrative can be richer than explained plot;
- Patience can be a narrative strategy, not a flaw.
This creative choice is not only daring but pedagogical: it teaches creators and viewers alike to value subtlety, trust complexity, and honor emotional interiority.
15. Looking Ahead: What Creators Can Learn from Daldal
For filmmakers, actors, and writers, the lessons from Daldal include:
- Trusting the audience rather than spoon‑feeding meaning;
- **Elevating inner life through restraint rather than expression;
- **Using silence as a structural device;
- **Structuring emotional payoff gradually rather than immediately;
- **Embracing discomfort as narrative currency.
For actors in particular, the project affirms that:
- Silence is a performance choice;
- Stillness can be expressive if calibrated carefully;
- Emotional presence doesn’t require words;
- The unseen inner life can be more impactful than explicit dialogue.
This is a profound artistic message in a cultural moment enamored with surface expression.
16. Conclusion: Silence Is the Sharpest Weapon
In a media environment driven by visibility, verbosity, and velocity — where characters speak early, show emotion constantly, and provide clarity quickly — Daldal stands out not by breaking silence, but by holding it, shaping it, and weaponizing it.
Bhumi Pednekar’s journey — from self‑doubt to surrendering to stillness — mirrors the film’s core philosophy: not every feeling needs immediate articulation, not every thought demands a voice, not every character needs to explain herself early.
Silence, in Daldal, is not lack. It is not reserve. It is not void.
It is meaning in waiting.
And in that waiting — precisely because it challenges expectation and discomfort — it finds its power.
