International
From Bhojpuri to global bigwig: Abhay Sinha’s star turn at FIAPF
MUMBAI: Abhay Sinha, the Indian Motion Picture Producers’ Association (Imppa) president, has sashayed his way into a starring role on the global stage. He’s been unanimously elected vice-president of FIAPF (International Federation of Film Producers Associations), the apex body of of film producers from over 30 countries. The vote took place on 17 May, 2025, at the FIAPF Annual General Assembly in Cannes, France,
This isn’t just a proud moment for Immpa, which has been in the game since 1937, but for the entire Indian film industry. Under Sinha’s leadership, Imppa has become a veritable dynamo, championing Indian producers and filmmakers both at home and abroad. He’s been working tirelessly to ensure Indian content creators get the recognition they deserve.
One of Sinha’s greatest hits has been leading Imppa’s presence at the Cannes Film Festival for two years running. In 2025, over 40 Indian films and a legion of delegates graced the festival, putting India’s diverse cinema firmly in the global spotlight. He even graced the Bharat Pavilion with his wisdom, speaking on a panel about the Changing Paradigm of Film Screening: Theatres to OTT, Digital Platforms and Beyond. He’s truly got his finger on the pulse of where film viewing is headed.
But Sinha isn’t just about the glitz and glamour of international festivals. He’s been a driving force behind shaping better film policies across India. Think improved subsidy systems in Maharashtra, Bihar, Gujarat, Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, and Uttarakhand. He’s also pushed for easier film certification and greater industry representation in national film bodies.
Ever the industry advocate, Sinha has tackled critical concerns like vrtual print fees (VPF), exhibition hurdles, and taxation reforms, aiming to lighten the financial load on producers and distributors. And he’s not one to shy away from a fight, having actively voiced concerns about the proposed 100 per cent tariff by the US on foreign entertainment content. He argues such tariffs are a real cliff hanger for cultural exchange and the global reach of Indian cinema, calling for fair trade policies to protect the creative and economic interests of Indian filmmakers.
Beyond his leadership roles, Sinha is also the founder of Yashi Films, a production powerhouse with over 150 feature films in various languages and more than 5,000 TV episodes under its belt. He’s also the mastermind behind the International Bhojpuri Film Awards (IBFA), the only global award platform for Bhojpuri cinema, which has travelled to multiple countries with the backing of Indian tourism bodies. These events have truly given regional Indian cinema and Bhojpuri artists a global stage.
Sinha’s election as FIAPF vice-president is a landmark moment, giving Indian producers a much stronger voice on the world stage and opening up a treasure trove of new opportunities for collaboration and growth. It seems the reel world just got a whole lot more exciting for India.
LOS ANGELES: Acting has never been an easy profession, but in recent years, it has acquired a new existential anxiety. Artificial intelligence can now mimic faces, clone voices and, in theory at least, speak any language it is fed. The fear that actors may soon be replaced by algorithms no longer belongs exclusively to science fiction. And yet, despite the rise of digital inauthenticity, some performers remain stubbornly resistant to replacement. The reason is not celebrity, nor even talent. It is language.
On paper, this should not be a problem. AI can translate. It can imitate accents. It can string together grammatically correct sentences in dozens of languages. But acting, inconveniently, is not about grammatical correctness. It is about meaning, and meaning is where AI still falters.
Machine translation offers a cautionary tale. Google Translate, now powered by neural AI, has improved markedly since its debut in 2006. It can manage menus, emails and airport signage with impressive efficiency. What it struggles with, however, are the moments that matter most: idioms, metaphors, irony, and cultural shorthand. Ask it to translate a joke, a threat disguised as politeness, or a line heavy with emotional subtext, and it begins to unravel. Acting lives precisely in those gaps.
This matters because film language is rarely literal. Scripts, particularly in independent cinema, rely on figurative speech and symbolism to convey what characters cannot say outright. Pedro Almodóvar’s Volver is a useful example. The film’s recurring use of red operates on multiple levels: grief, desire, repression, liberation, and memory. These meanings are inseparable from the Spanish cultural context and emotional cadence. A translation may convey the words, but not the weight they carry. An AI-generated performance might replicate the sound, but not the sense.
This is where multilingual actors gain their edge. Performers such as Penélope Cruz and SofÃa Vergara do not simply switch between languages; they move between cultural logics. Their fluency allows them to inhabit characters without flattening them for international consumption. Language, for them, is not an accessory but a structuring force.
Beyond European cinema, this becomes even more pronounced. Languages such as Hindi, Arabic and Mandarin are spoken by hundreds of millions of people and underpin vast cinematic traditions. As global audiences grow more interconnected, the demand for authenticity increases rather than diminishes. Viewers can tell when a performance has been filtered through approximation. Subtle errors, misplaced emphasis, and an unnatural rhythm break the illusion.
There is also a practical dimension. Multilingualism expands opportunity. SofÃa Vergara has spoken openly about how learning English enabled her to work beyond Colombia and access Hollywood roles. But this movement is not a one-way export of talent into English-speaking cinema. Multilingual actors carry stories, styles and sensibilities back with them, enriching multiple industries at once.
Cinema has always thrived on such hybridity. Denzel Washington’s performances, for instance, draw on the cultural realities of growing up African American in the United States, while also reflecting stylistic influences from classic Hollywood and Westerns. His work demonstrates how identity and influence intersect on screen. Multilingual actors extend this intersection further, embodying multiple cultural frameworks simultaneously.
At times, linguistic authenticity is not merely artistic but ethical. Films that confront historical trauma, such as Schindler’s List, rely on language to anchor their moral seriousness. When Jewish actors perform in German, the choice is not incidental. Language becomes a site of memory and confrontation. It is difficult to imagine an automated voice carrying that responsibility without hollowing it out.
This is why claims that AI heralds the death of language miss the point. Language is not just a delivery system for information. It is a repository of history, humour, power and pain. Fluency is not only about knowing what to say, but when to hesitate, when to understate, and when to let silence do the work. These are not technical problems waiting to be solved; they are human instincts shaped by lived experience.
AI may one day improve its grasp of metaphor and nuance. It may even learn to sound convincing. But acting is not about sounding convincing; it is about being convincing. Until algorithms can acquire memory, cultural inheritance and emotional intuition, multilingual actors will remain irreplaceable. AI may learn to speak. But it cannot yet learn to mean.
In an industry increasingly tempted by shortcuts, language remains stubbornly resistant to automation. And for actors who can move between worlds, linguistic, cultural, and emotional, that resistance is not a weakness, but a quiet, enduring advantage.
