Inside the Final Chapter of Four More Shots Please
As Four More Shots Please takes its final bow, director Arunima Sharma reflects on joy, creative calm, evolving womanhood, and the wellness of letting stories—and people—breathe.
Calling it the final season of ‘Four More Shots Please’, one of the most watched web series on Prime Video, wasn’t a dramatic decision—it felt instinctive. For Arunima Sharma, it was about knowing when to let a story breathe, and when to let it go.
Arunima Sharma
“I really feel this is the final season,” she says. “Ending on a high is always nicer than dragging something into oblivion till it’s not even half as good as when you started.” Much like relationships in real life, she believes stories need dignity in their closure. “Series should know when to end and leave the audience with better memories.”
That sense of emotional clarity extends into the making of season four itself. Having lived with these four women for three seasons, Arunima reflects on how time quietly reshapes both characters and audiences alike. “They have grown older and so have we. Every year brings new layers to life, to relationships, to our own personalities.”
That question-who are these women now, became the creative starting point for the final chapter. Along with creators Rangita and Ishita Pritish Nandy and writers Devika Bhagat and Ishita Moitra, Arunima found the answer in a single word: joy.
“This season is about the pursuit of joy,” she explains. “Beyond everything else, that’s what we are all really chasing.” The pandemic, she feels, sharpened that awareness. “It made us ask—can life be simpler? Can we grab joy when we see it instead of overthinking it?”
Each woman’s journey unfolds differently, she adds, because joy is deeply personal. “How you pursue joy and how I do can never be the same. But that search is the common thread.”
At the heart of the series lies performance—something Arunima has always been deeply drawn to. “Performances are the topmost layer of everything. A close-up with a truthful performance should work even without background music telling the audience how to feel.”
Her approach to directing actors is rooted in trust and collaboration. “You cannot take actors as props,” she states firmly. Since season four came after years of the cast inhabiting their characters, Arunima chose to step back rather than assert control. “I kept telling them—you know these characters better than me. Please go with the flow.”
This philosophy reflects in the visual language of the season as well. Long takes, handheld shots, and fluid camera movements allow scenes to breathe. “The spaces, the city, everything is part of the story,” she explains. In an era shaped by social media, she wanted the series to feel lived-in rather than stylised. “Sometimes reels look more real than films because they are breathing.”
Imperfection, she believes, is essential to authenticity. “Are we perfect in real life? Do we speak perfectly thought-out lines?” she asks. Allowing pauses, stumbles, and rawness gives the story its emotional truth.
While Arunima has directed over 150 commercials, filmmaking was always her first love. “I never wanted to be an ad film director,” she admits. Advertising happened organically and eventually became a valuable training ground. “It’s like net practice,” she says. Being on set constantly sharpened her instincts and kept her adaptable.
Working with new teams and younger collaborators has also kept her creatively agile. “You have to stay relevant. Things are changing fast—technology, audience sensibilities, everything.”
One of her most personal projects now is an intimate documentary on Naseeruddin Shah. Having known him for over two decades, she feels the world hasn’t fully seen the man behind the legend. “I want to explore his humor, his flaws, his irreverence. Not worship him. We have already done that.”
When she shared the idea with him, his response was immediate. “He just said, ‘Toh banao.’ That was all I needed.”
Looking back at her own journey, Arunima sees growth not in ambition, but in calm. “I started at 19. I am 41 today,” she says. Early on, she felt the need to be experimental, even gimmicky. “Now I am more comfortable keeping things simple.”
Experience, she feels, has taught her resilience. “Filmmaking will always throw surprises at you—locations fall through, actors fall ill, plans change.” What’s changed is her response. “I don’t get frazzled anymore. I make the best choice with what’s available.”
That inner steadiness—earned through years of work, reflection, and adaptation—now anchors both her storytelling and her life. “I feel calmer on set. And I think I am getting better at dealing with things.”
And perhaps that calm, much like the season she’s just completed, is its own quiet form of joy.