The juxtaposition of these two figures highlights a crucial evolution in Bollywood.
No conversation about entertainment and media content with Arunoday Singh would be complete without addressing the elephant in the room: the diminishing value of the writer.
“We love to celebrate directors and actors. But the writer? The writer is the foundation. And right now, our foundation is cracking,” he admits.
He observes that many new web series feel “designed by committee”—a dash of romance here, a forced cliffhanger there, a viral dialogue moment inserted last minute. “That’s not writing. That’s engineering.”
Singh fondly recalls working on projects where the script was treated as sacred. “On The Final Call, we rehearsed for weeks. Every pause, every silence was discussed. The writer sat next to the director during every shot. That respect is disappearing.”
He issues a challenge to production houses: “Stop ordering scripts like you order pizza. ‘I want 30% action, 20% comedy, and extra thrill on the side.’ Great writing comes from obsession, not demographics.” The juxtaposition of these two figures highlights a
For aspiring writers, Singh’s advice is simple: “Read. Not just screenplays. Read poetry, history, science. The best dialogue comes from someone who understands the world, not just the format.”
In a media landscape drowning in noise, memes, and ephemeral trends, Arunoday Singh emerges as an unlikely philosopher-king. He doesn’t claim to have all the answers, nor does he moralize about the industry that employs him. Instead, he asks the right questions.
His vision for entertainment and media content is not nostalgic—it is evolutionary. He doesn’t want to go back to the “good old days.” He wants to move forward with intention, integrity, and a deep respect for the viewer’s soul.
As we wrap up, he leaves us with a final thought—one that every creator should perhaps tattoo on their laptop lid:
“The opposite of shallow content isn’t intellectual content. It’s honest content. Start there. Stay there. And let the algorithm try to catch up.” In a media landscape drowning in noise, memes,
Arunoday Singh’s upcoming projects include a psychological thriller for a major streaming platform and a poetic short film exploring urban loneliness. Both, he promises, will require patience to watch—and that’s exactly the point.
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As the lead of Apharan (Voot Select), Arunoday Singh was an early adopter of long-form streaming content. He credits OTT with liberating actors from the constraints of the censor board and the star system.
In his talks about media content, Singh highlights three specific ways OTT has changed the game:
However, Singh is also wary of the flood of content. He warns that OTT is replicating the mistakes of television. "Now, everyone has a series. The algorithms are pushing for quantity over quality," he laments. He believes that the "second wave" of OTT—the one happening right now—is suffering from content bloat, where mediocre scripts are greenlit just to keep subscribers from canceling. His vision for entertainment and media content is
Sunny Leone’s entry was a cultural flashpoint. The media often framed her as a "target" for conservative critics. However, the narrative eventually shifted. By maintaining a professional demeanor, working hard on her Hindi, and conducting herself with dignity in interviews, she changed the conversation from scandal to business acumen.
In several recent interviews, Singh has expressed a growing disillusionment with formulaic Bollywood. He argues that a significant chunk of mainstream entertainment has become "disposable."
“We are churning out products, not art,” he stated in a 2023 podcast. Singh points to the "three-song, one-fight, one-dialogue template" as a relic that no longer serves the modern, digitally native viewer. He believes that producers have, for too long, underestimated the audience’s appetite for nuance. According to Singh, the problem isn't just nepotism or budget; it is intellectual laziness. He notes that content that treats the viewer as intelligent—films that breathe between dialogues and shows that don't explain every plot point—is often labeled "multiplex cinema" and sidelined for "single-screen massy" fare.
In the early 2010s, Bollywood was undergoing a significant metamorphosis. The "parallel cinema" movement was bleeding into mainstream commercial films, and the industry was becoming more experimental with its themes—specifically regarding sensuality and on-screen intimacy.
During this period, two figures emerged who represented different facets of this new "bold" Bollywood: Arunoday Singh, the tall, charismatic scion of a political family choosing an unconventional acting path, and Sunny Leone, the adult film star making a highly publicized pivot to Indian cinema.
Unlike many urban actors who only cater to South Bombay or Delhi NCR, Singh’s perspective is heavily influenced by his roots. He has observed that the most exciting content is coming from the Hindi heartland—stories about small-town ambitions, caste politics, and moral corruption.
He cites shows like Panchayat and Gullak not as exceptions, but as the future. Singh argues that for too long, "entertainment" meant a Punjabi wedding in Switzerland. Now, genuine entertainment is found in the dialects, the cuisine, and the frustrations of Tier-2 cities. His own choice to play a grizzled cop in Apharan is a nod to this: the character isn't slick; he is sweaty, hungry, and desperate.