Sai Karan Talwar's multidimensional villain

Have you always wanted to direct and what has your journey been like so far?

Yes, I have. It really began in my grandfather's video store in Southall. As a child, I spent countless hours surrounded by films from all over the world. It wasn't just Hollywood - you'd find Indian cinema, European classics, Hong Kong action films, everything. Having access to so many different voices at such a young age made cinema feel limitless.

 I've always been drawn to stories about identity, morality and belonging - characters searching for meaning in a world that often encourages certainty over self-reflection.

As I got older, I realised I was just as interested in why people behaved the way they did as I was in filmmaking itself. That naturally led me to writing. I spent years developing my craft before directing my first short film in 2022. Since then, I've been fortunate enough to make a film every year, with each project becoming more ambitious both creatively and technically.

Alongside that, I've been incredibly lucky to be supported by organisations like BAFTA through BAFTA Connect and the BBC Writers' Access Group. Those experiences have given me opportunities to learn from filmmakers I admire while also reinforcing the importance of telling stories that feel personal and emotionally truthful.

Ultimately, I've always been drawn to stories about identity, morality and belonging - characters searching for meaning in a world that often encourages certainty over self-reflection.

What does it mean to you to win a YDA?

It honestly means an enormous amount. The Young Director Award has introduced so many filmmakers whose work I've admired over the years, so to become part of that community is incredibly humbling. As a filmmaker who's still early in my career, it's a huge vote of confidence - not just in I AM THE PRIZE, but in the kinds of stories I want to tell.

To have that recognised on an international stage makes all of those difficult moments feel worthwhile.

Making independent films is never easy. Every project involves years of writing, fundraising and persuading people to believe in an idea before it exists. To have that recognised on an international stage makes all of those difficult moments feel worthwhile.

It's also something I hope opens doors to larger-scale work while allowing me to continue making films that challenge audiences emotionally rather than simply giving them easy answers.

How did your idea for I AM THE PRIZE develop, and how did the story evolve over time?

The starting point wasn't the manosphere itself - it was performance.

I became fascinated by people who build identities so convincing that eventually they begin performing them even in private. Anthony Selvon is someone who has spent years telling other people how to become "real men," but underneath that carefully constructed image is someone who has never allowed himself to be fully seen.

 Rather than focusing on outrage or spectacle, I became interested in vulnerability, shame and contradiction. 

As I developed the script, it became less about making a film about toxic masculinity and more about exploring the cost of living behind an ideology. I wanted to understand what happens when someone's public philosophy becomes a prison they've built for themselves.

The story gradually evolved into something much more intimate. Rather than focusing on outrage or spectacle, I became interested in vulnerability, shame and contradiction. Those felt like much richer places to explore dramatically.

I AM THE PRIZE explores the manosphere but avoids the social media context that it's often associated with. What drew you to depicting Anthony Selvon outside the usual frame of influencer culture?

I felt that if I focused too heavily on social media, the film risked becoming about algorithms or internet culture, and those things change incredibly quickly.

What interested me was something much older and much more universal: charisma, power and the human desire to belong. Men like Anthony existed long before social media and they'll continue to exist in different forms after today's platforms disappear.

The questions the film asks become less about technology and more about masculinity, performance and the stories we tell ourselves to survive.

By stripping away the online world, I hoped audiences would engage with Anthony as a person rather than simply dismissing him as an internet stereotype. The questions the film asks become less about technology and more about masculinity, performance and the stories we tell ourselves to survive.

For me, the film isn't really about influencers. It's about identity.

Did you want the audience to understand Anthony, judge him, or sit somewhere uneasily between the two?

Definitely somewhere in between.

I think cinema is at its most powerful when it resists easy moral certainty. Anthony says and does things that are deeply harmful, and I didn't want to excuse that. But I also wasn't interested in creating a one-dimensional villain.

 You can understand someone's pain while still holding them accountable for the harm they cause.

I'm much more interested in asking why someone becomes this person in the first place. If we only ever reduce people to monsters, we stop asking the harder questions about how those ideologies develop and why they're able to attract followers.

I hope audiences feel empathy without absolution. Those aren't mutually exclusive ideas. You can understand someone's pain while still holding them accountable for the harm they cause.

That uncomfortable space between compassion and judgement is where I think the film lives.

What conversations do you hope I AM THE PRIZE sparks with viewers?

I hope it encourages conversations about masculinity that move beyond slogans and outrage.

We're living in a time where discussions around gender often become incredibly polarised. I wanted to make a film that asks why so many people search for certainty, belonging and purpose, and what happens when those needs are exploited.

 I hope people leave talking not just about Anthony, but about themselves and the pressures we all feel to become the version of ourselves the world expects

More broadly, I hope it encourages audiences to think about authenticity. How much of ourselves is performance? At what point does the identity we create begin controlling us instead of the other way around?

Ultimately, I hope people leave talking not just about Anthony, but about themselves and the pressures we all feel to become the version of ourselves the world expects.