Fame is a high-interest loan. You spend years grinding in the dark, cutting together frames on a laptop that’s perpetually overheating, hoping the YouTube algorithm doesn't bury your soul under a mountain of "Skibidi Toilet" parodies. Then, a movie star notices you. Suddenly, you aren't just a guy with a camera and a vision. You're a "sensation."
Abishan Jeevinth, the director behind the short film With Love, is currently navigating this specific brand of digital vertigo. After his work started gaining traction, he landed the ultimate validation prize in the South Indian film ecosystem: a sit-down with Vijay Deverakonda. Jeevinth took to social media to share his gratitude, calling it a "great conversation." It’s the kind of PR win that young filmmakers would trade a kidney for. But let’s look at the plumbing behind the praise.
We live in an era where the "shoutout" is the most potent form of venture capital. For an indie creator like Jeevinth, a nod from the Arjun Reddy star isn't just a pat on the back. It’s a massive injection of social liquidity. One "appreciation" post can bypass three years of networking and a dozen rejected festival entries. It’s efficient. It’s fast. It’s also a little bit depressing if you think about it for more than ten seconds.
The friction here is obvious, even if we pretend it isn't. To get to this "great conversation," Jeevinth didn't just need talent; he needed the stars to align in a way that’s increasingly expensive. High-quality short films don't happen on a zero-dollar budget anymore. You’re looking at rental costs for Blackmagic rigs, sound engineers who actually know what they’re doing, and the sheer opportunity cost of not working a 9-to-5 while you chase a "viral" dream. The price tag for a polished short film today can easily hit the mid-six figures in rupees, and that’s before you spend a dime on marketing. All that investment, just for the hope that a superstar might find your link in their DMs.
Deverakonda, for his part, plays the role of the benevolent gatekeeper perfectly. He’s built a brand on being the "outsider" who made it big, so acknowledging new talent reinforces his own mythos. It’s a symbiotic loop. The star stays relevant with the "cool, indie" crowd, and the filmmaker gets a temporary shield against the brutal reality of the attention economy.
But what happens when the "great conversation" ends?
Jeevinth is clearly talented—With Love wouldn't have reached the star's radar if there wasn't some genuine craft involved. Yet, the industry's obsession with these moments of celebrity blessing suggests we don't actually trust our own taste. We wait for a signal from the top of the pyramid before we decide something is worth our time. It’s the same logic that drives tech IPOs; nobody cares about the product until the big institutional investors start buying in.
The digital space was supposed to democratize fame. It was supposed to be the end of the gatekeepers. Instead, we’ve just traded the old studio heads for a new set of influencers and superstars who act as human algorithms. Jeevinth is now "Fame Abishan Jeevinth," a moniker that carries the weight of expectation. He’s been seen. He’s been validated. He’s been "appreciated."
Now comes the hard part. The star’s attention is a flickering light. It’s bright, it’s warm, and it moves on to the next shiny thing faster than a TikTok transition. Jeevinth has the momentum, but momentum is just energy looking for a place to crash. He’s got the "great conversation" in his pocket, but the industry is littered with directors who had one lunch with a star and were never heard from again.
The real question isn't whether Deverakonda liked the film. The question is whether the industry knows how to support a creator once the celebrity’s Instagram Story expires. Or are we just content to watch these brief sparks of "appreciation" and call it progress?
