Hello Neetu! Congratulations on the play, how does it feel knowing that it’s rolling out to the public at last?
I’m excited. I think we are in a cultural period that is becoming increasingly obsessed with gender and gender expression and we really are going back in time. Ironically, the digital world has the best evidence for this obsession with manhood and womanhood; reality TV and social media, the rise of the tradwife and podcast bros etc. This play is written in direct response to this culture.
First and foremost, how did you get involved with the project?
As freelancers we always wonder how buildings find and employ us. Sometimes it’s the result of conversations, sometimes they find us through our work or recommendations and sometimes we have absolutely no idea. I had a few availability checks from the Almeida but was on other shows and therefore unavailable. Following this, I had a brilliant meeting with Natalie Crisp, the Senior Producer at the Almeida, in January 2025 to introduce myself as an artist. It was an opportunity to talk openly about my passions and interests and that conversation resulted in this offer. I then interviewed with Sam Pritchard, the director, and he offered me the job.
In five words, how would you describe the play?
Layered. Ambitious. Clever. Fresh. Current.
You have an absolutely stellar cast on board and we’re fully expecting an absolutely stunning saga of a play.
Can you give us your top three moments (without spoiling anything!) that you’re looking forward to audiences spotting and why?
I’m not sure how to give my top three moments without spoiling anything… all my favourite moments will spoil it… sorry. I can say that the movement direction, sound and lighting are incredibly exciting. I can also say that I’ve learned so much from our cast and their process.
Out of all the characters in the play, which one resonates with you the most and why?
I find Marlow a very interesting character precisely because he doesn’t resonate with me. I find him fallible and despicable. His journey from a vulnerable schoolboy to a colonist and patriarchal billionaire represents an extraordinary but common journey where trauma drives people to chase after material success. I do wonder what this kind of representation is doing for audiences; for me, he provokes me and his journey feels the most stark and profound.
Can you share with us your favourite behind-the-scenes moment during the development of the play?
Seeing our movement director, Hannes Langolf, develop two brief but impactful moments between Edmund and Charles and later Edmund and Leo was fascinating. This artistic portrayal of abuse against Edmund is so nuanced and subtle yet heartbreaking and powerful.
For people who might not understand what an Assistant Director does in theatre, how would you describe your role?
This is such a good question. My role as an assistant director varies between buildings and directors; it entirely depends on their practice and process. In this room, before rehearsals, I did research on the context of the play and offered some literary suggestions to our director, Sam, to share with the cast. During rehearsals, I’ve been an artistic sounding board for Sam. He has a collaborative room and is interested in having a second pair of artistic eyes on the show so we have been in regular conversation about which artistic choices are best serving the play.
I also keep track of script changes and when actors are performing or rehearsing and forget a line or need a reminder, I keep my eyes on the book (the most updated script with all script changes) and feed them lines. Once we moved from the rehearsal room into the theatre during technical rehearsals, I kept an eye on blocking and on the book; I sit far back or upstairs in the circle to check if actors are visible and how audiences will experience the show from a distance and if any tweaks need to be made to correct this. When the show opens, I will come in a few times a week to note the show, to essentially maintain the director’s production and vision.
You’ve worked on some fantastic productions. What are the most vital lessons you’ve learnt from your career thus far?
There are a few lessons or discoveries. As a freelancer, it’s often precarious and chaotic and I’ve learned that this is the life of a theatre freelancer; I chose the chaos and becoming anxious or worried about the next gig isn’t going to help me, instead just try to be present in each room, each gig that you’re in. Another lesson: trying to measure my trajectory in a linear way doesn’t make sense, trying to compare myself with other artists doesn’t make sense either. Our careers are a culmination of artistic experiences rather than a checklist of achievements.
Another lesson: I had a conversation with Stella Kanu over Zoom a few years ago which was eye opening. She asked me to describe myself as an artist and I didn’t have much to say except how the world perceives me – Punjabi, working class, woman. This conversation redefined how I think about myself as an artist. I think a lot of us label ourselves and understandably so – it establishes who we are, it draws us to people who are like us, to people who inherently understand us.
But after that conversation, I thought, what am I actually interested in? What truly draws me to creating art? What drives me, inspires me, excites me outside of the binaries and categorisations of race, gender and class? I find that people who are always asking others who they are, usually aren’t much like me anyway. Why are you so interested in where I come from? I don’t have to identify myself, it’s not compulsory actually. I don’t have to locate my identity or roots to you. This conversation with Stella drew me deeper into my practice and art, and it also freed me of identifying myself for someone to categorise, locate, and digest who I am.
I am not only a new writing director; or not only a director of classics, I don’t only work with South Asian artists, or only work with young people. I am not one thing and no assumptions should be made about my practice and artistic interests. It’s limiting. It’s also unfair. I am free to create whatever I feel because I am made of many different things and experiences. I am interested in being in different rooms, working with different people, exercising different muscles in my practice, learning how different buildings, people, communities, artists work and learn.
What would you say is your most memorable moment in theatre to date, and why is it so important to you?
My first two days as assistant director on The Cherry Orchard’s New York transfer. Landing into JFK, driving through the big apple, seeing the Statue of Liberty. Entering my apartment in Wall Street and then using the subway to travel to St. Ann’s Warehousee, with the Brooklyn Bridge overhead. It felt like I did my first big one.
What made you wish to go into theatre in the first place, and who are your biggest inspirations?
At university, in my final two weeks, I wrote and directed a play documenting my experiences as a student there. It was called Oxford Girls and followed six South Asian women’s experiences of the university in a group counselling session. The point of the play was to explore people’s diversity and differences despite the supposed homogeneity in the group.
My biggest inspirations are not really people and my interest in theatre isn’t because of certain individuals who work in it. My interest in theatre came from my love for storytelling. I am interested in telling stories about how I feel and how I feel about the world around me. Of course, there’s plenty of artists and art that has taught me what I know and shaped my tone and style but ultimately it’s my lived experiences and the lived experiences of those around me that inspires me. I’m not a big consumer and a lot of my friends know me as the person that doesn’t watch anything or know anyone which is ironic given my job.
How much have you seen the theatre landscape change for people of colour and people of South Asian heritage since you began your career?
I’ve been in the industry three years. It’s a short amount of time to expect or experience monumental change. I think the conversation about people of colour is really nuanced. I’m not interested in categorising or labelling myself, I’m also not interested in generalising people too. However, as a Punjabi Brit, I do think we are the most represented group in theatre, television and film out of all South Asian people. This has been the case for a very long time. I think it’s often the same narratives and I hardly find it invigorating or truly representative of my lived experience. I’m born and raised in a council estate in London. My community there has been a metropolitan, diverse and enriching one.
If what the work is trying to do is called representation then I think a lot of it has failed to represent me personally. I don’t think there’s enough accurate representation of working-class South Asians and I definitely don’t think artists with lived experience are producing the work. There’s been some exciting shows and casting choices in the 3 years I’ve been in this industry, but I consistently see that people of those backgrounds are never the decision makers in these shows, they are not making programming decisions, not writing the shows, not producing the shows and not directing the shows. I did love Lotus Beauty (2023) and Marriage Material (2025). The women in these shows just felt like the women in my family, the women I grew up with, the women I love, the women I come from. This is my personal experience as an audience member, other people might have other things to say and that’s fair.
We do however, need more working-class directors, writers, producers, artistic and creative teams. We need more working-class South Asian artists to be creating their lived experience on stage if that’s what the play is trying to do. The issue, as always, is systemic. This industry is precarious, low-paying and culturally inaccessible, theatre as an institution has long been inaccessible. I also think venues are increasingly not taking risks, not working with new people, upcoming artists, and this forces us into self-producing. Every individual, every artist, is different. I’m not of the argument that one South Asian artist is a representation of all of us. I think it’s a lazy argument that is useful for a lazy world. We are not the same, and we don’t have to be. We are not exchangeable, and we don’t have to be. I’m sick and tired of the narrative that I should be grateful for or represented by things that truly don’t represent me or the world I come from. I also wonder who we are making plays for? I’m always interested in audience first, who is this show for? A lot of shows are supposedly made for representation or social change but are never truly built for or experienced by the people it’s supposed to be representing.
In five years time, how do you hope to see the landscape of the industry change?
I hope that different people are regularly being commissioned, supported and uplifted by buildings. I hope that more people who are systemically disadvantaged, more stories of people who are systemically marginalised, are produced by big venues with big budgets and resources. People shouldn’t have to struggle or convince or hustle as much as they do. I hope that more people are making the stories they want to tell and in charge of how those stories are told. I hope that theatres become a hub for local communities and build long term strategies for real community engagement.
For other young Asians around the world who are following in your footsteps, what advice would you like to give them?
I think just live your truth. Living in your truth, authentically, honestly and unabashedly is transformative. Be truthful in your personal life and professional life. Try new things. I would also say, as a fellow Gen Z, our obsession with categorising ourselves is becoming ironic. Defining yourself through your work, interests, personality, passions is one thing. Calling yourself a working-class South Asian artist is brilliant and define yourself, as you should, but understanding and celebrating your individual interests, tone and style is important. That’s where you truly learn about who you are and what art want to make. Everyone is trying to be the same – don’t!
We’re hoping lots of people will be inspired by Romans, but what is inspiring you right now?
It’s actually quite interesting. I’ve been thinking about masculinity and the cultural shift in gender norms and gender expression for maybe a year now, so to get this offer was very exciting because it’s all I’m thinking about currently. I’m artistically interested in men and their experiences of the world, about how the patriarchy and gender binary isn’t helping anyone. I’m interested in how boys become the men they do, and how it’s entirely to do with inequality and the systems that continually fail people like us.
As an artist I feel like we are often inspired by so many things constantly, it’s almost overwhelming. I think a lot, I think very deeply, and am constantly observing and curating images. Right now, I’m inspired by my current environment, by the journeys, histories, personalities I’ve experienced up close, in my family and wider community in Hackney. I’m also inspired by return of the Punjabi underground music scene right now, by the number of events and nightlife that have emerged since COVID.
I’m also interested in the rise of the right wing and the depth and reach of colonialism and racism around the globe.
I am a huge advocate of empowering and emboldening communities that are systematically disadvantaged. I think my biggest inspiration right now is a huge amount of frustration and anger because ultimately systemic inequality or disadvantage is simply injustice. My inspiration is often an emotional response. How I feel about the world is what constantly inspires me. Not to make a pun but my Roman empire really is inequality and power. In the domestic, in the home, in systems and structures, in the workplace, in bureaucracy and legislation. It’s something I can’t stop thinking about. I think this is a thread in all my work.
Romans runs at the Almeida Theater until the 11th of October. For tickets and more info, click here.