Roshan Sethi and Karan Soni are done being nice Indian boys

It is 10 am in the West Coast, and Roshan Sethi and Karan Soni have a long day ahead of them. Yet, the director and actor, who are also real-life romantic partners and in the final leg of the press tour for their upcoming film, A Nice Indian Boy, barely show any signs of exhaustion. Eyes sparkling and smiles bursting at the seams, they turn dead-pan serious when I ask: What makes for a nice Indian boy? Is he the obedient son who calls his mother every night, excels in academics, is heterosexual, and dutifully follows the unspoken rules of tradition? Or is he someone who can belt out all the lyrics to ‘Tujhe Dekha Toh Yeh Jaana Sanam’ while simultaneously starring in a film that upends conventional ideas of Indian family dynamics and love? 

The Los Angeles-based duo argue that the definition is a little more layered. “I always imagine a nice Indian boy as Shah Rukh Khan, before he falls in love with Kajol in Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham,” muses Soni. “Just the perfect son.” Sethi, on the other hand, bursts out laughing. “A nice Indian boy is sweet to his mom, follows the rules, doesn’t create a ruckus. I don’t think I am one.” No matter what they peddle, Sethi and Soni are the very definition of nice Indian boys, bringing to life a tender, funny, and poignant film that redefines what it means to belong (and one that left me a slobbering, weeping mess the previous night, but more on that later). 

Thirty-seven-year-old Sethi’s journey to filmmaking has been anything but traditional. A Harvard-trained doctor, like all nice Indian boys, he initially thought storytelling was a side passion. That changed when he was brought on as a consultant for a television show about young doctors. “The premise was basically ‘what if Harvard med students were hot?’” he jokes. Though the show never made it past its pilot, it opened a door he hadn’t previously considered. He began slipping his own scripts to showrunners and, before long, found himself working as a television writer. Eventually, he co-created The Resident, a medical drama that ran for six seasons. Still, he grew frustrated by the slow-moving machinery of Hollywood, where promising scripts often languish in development limbo. Taking matters into his own hands, he directed his first feature, 7 Days, in 2020. The film starred Soni, who also co-wrote the film. 

For 35-year-old Soni, the road to Hollywood was equally unexpected. Born and raised in Delhi, he had little interest in acting until he realised it could be a way to avoid social obscurity. “I was pretty unpopular and bullied, but then I got cast in the school play. Suddenly, all my bullies’ girlfriends were in the audience, and they thought I was cool,” he recalls. The social benefits quickly evolved into a genuine passion, and when he moved to Los Angeles for college, the dream of an acting career became more tangible. “A friend booked a McDonald’s commercial and made $50,000. In 2007, that was all the money I thought I would need to live my life.” With no connections in the industry, he took the old-school route: printing out headshots and mailing them to every agent he could find. Eventually, one signed him—mistakenly believing he had played a role in Slumdog Millionaire. “I didn’t correct him,” Soni admits with a grin.

A Nice Indian Boy was already an established and frequently performed play by Madhuri Shekar when it first came to their attention. It had been optioned for a film adaptation long before they got involved, but when the duo took over they reshaped the story into something more personal.

“It wasn’t originally about a doctor,” says Sethi, who also works as a medical instructor at Harvard. “But as we rewrote it, it became much more about our experiences.” Soni adds, “What stood out was how it treated Indian parents—not as broad stereotypes, but as complex individuals with their own arcs. So often, in stories about South Asian families, the parents are either obstacles or comic relief. Here, their emotional journey is as important as the love story.”

One of the film’s biggest surprises was the casting of Jonathan Groff. I recount my own memories of watching Groff play the lead in Andrew Haigh’s limited series Looking. Although vastly different from Sethi’s film, the beating heart of Looking was also occupied by questions of belonging faced by modern gay men living in metropolises. “We went to him with no connections, just hope,” Sethi recalls. “And it turned out he was a huge fan of 7 Days—specifically of Karan. He said, ‘You should cast that guy from 7 Days. He could play gay!’ And I was like, ‘He is gay, with me at least…’” Groff signed on without hesitation, fully embracing the character. 

A crucial early courtship scene from the film, also featured in the trailer, sees Groff break into a spontaneous performance of ‘Tujhe Dekha Toh Yeh Jaana Sanam’ on the road. “We didn’t train him. It wasn’t in the script. It just happened,” Sethi says. But the film’s relationship with Bollywood goes beyond just that moment.

“Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge was the backbone of our story,” Sethi reveals. “We reached out to Aditya Chopra, who never licenses DDLJ clips. But he said yes to our little gay Indian movie.” The soundtrack is equally Bollywood-infused, with tracks ranging from ‘Jalebi Baby’ to ‘Badtameez Dil’ working as formative time stamps over the film’s 90-minute runtime. “We had to explain to older members of our audience what ‘Jalebi Baby’ meant,” Soni laughs. “They were not thrilled.”

Sunita Mani was their first choice to play the protagonist’s sister, a tricky role that required balancing warmth and resistance. The film also features comedian Zarna Garg as Soni’s mother, a casting decision that brought even more authenticity to the family dynamic. “She’s that very Indian mom—hilarious and loving, but also capable of making you feel guilty in less than a second,” Sethi says.

At its core, A Nice Indian Boy is a celebration of identity, family, and love. Sethi and Soni both grew up with very little queer representation in the media. After 20 years of growing up with Brokeback Mountain and A Single Man, I explain to both the euphoric joy of seeing a film that not only frontlines a brown gay man, but also one who dreams of and fights for a grand Indian wedding. The duo’s unassuming candour finally paves the way for something deeper finally—an awareness that they’re part of a changing moment in our cultural tapestry. 

“I don’t feel pressure to only tell queer stories,” Sethi says, “but I do want to centre stories around people of colour in a way that isn’t just about hardship.” Soni agrees. “We want movies that are fun. Not ones that feel like homework.”

A Nice Indian Boy is more than just a rom-com. It’s a love letter to Bollywood, to messy family conversations, to tradition and rebellion, and to the ever-expanding definition of what it means to be a nice Indian boy.