Photographs by Suleiman Thomas
Shamita Sivabalan is no stranger to pushing boundaries—whether it’s in front of the camera, on the stage, or behind the scenes shaping stories that matter. But landing her breakout role in Good Cop Bad Cop, the latest Stan drop, was something even she didn’t see coming. The journey was equal parts chaotic and serendipitous—juggling five auditions in one week, submitting a self-tape she was convinced was terrible, and even ghosting Hollywood without realising it.
In this interview, Shamita gets candid about the rollercoaster ride of booking their first big American TV gig, the reality of being a queer person of colour in the entertainment industry, and why she refuses to box herself—or her art—in. From award-winning dance films to helming her own production company, she’s carving out a space where authenticity, culture, and creativity collide. We talk representation, resilience, and what’s next for an artist who’s always looking for the next challenge.
Can you share what this experience has been like for you having a breakthrough role in the latest Stan drop, Good Cop Bad Cop, particularly as it marks your first big break in an American TV show?
Being cast in Good Cop Bad Cop was a pretty wild experience. The week I auditioned, I had also auditioned for 5 other roles. 70% of the time it’s a drought, but when it rains it pours!
I was working incredibly hard on all the auditions that week, and when GCBC came around, I thought to myself- well this is the LEAST likely project I’ll score. Being an actor in this industry requires a thick skin and a healthy sense of nihilism in my opinion! When I submitted my tape, I felt creatively juiced from every other audition. So, without thinking too much; I leaned into a dry procedural read and thought, “my god, this is the worst audition I’ve ever done”.
Turns out, that’s exactly what I needed to do for the role!
Sometimes as an actor, overthinking is your worst enemy. As unapologetically dry as I was-it worked.
Suddenly my lovely agent Charmaine called me asking if I was rejecting calls from the US.
I was perplexed and said I had thought they were spam calls, but I was embarrassed to find the GCBC showrunner John Quaintance had attempted to reach me multiple times.
When John called me himself to tell me the news, I could hardly comprehend I got the role! Although I questioned how comfortable I felt l playing a cop, I figured the challenge and the experience of an American format show would be well worth it! In addition, I’m so glad I did, because the crew and cast really felt like a little family and we had a very healthy on-set culture.
As a QPOC (Queer Person of Colour) Australian, you’ve spoken about the importance of representation in the industry. What do you think needs to change to ensure more authentic and diverse stories are told, especially for queer people of colour?
Authenticity in storytelling is a tricky beast—what’s authentic to one person can feel totally off to someone else. Personally, as a Malaysian-Indian, queer, third-culture kid in Australia, I’m basically a mixed bag of cultural pick-and-mix candy. But when I watch a show or film and feel that nod of solidarity with a character, I know they’ve nailed it. For real change to happen, it needs to come from the top. We have tons of talented, diverse creators, but the funding bodies and big studios are still run by the same old Tom, Steves, and Joes. Often great guys, just trapped in their own bubble. There’s this fear that anything too different or unrelatable (i.e; not looking like the cast of Friends) will flop, which means we end up with safe, predictable stories. To shift this, we need to push for more diverse voices at the decision-making level—more producers, writers, and directors from different backgrounds. That way, we’ll get stories that truly reflect our diverse world, instead of just ticking diversity boxes. And we also need to trust that audiences are ready for these stories—they’re hungry for something new and real.
You’ve mentioned your goal to encourage people, particularly brown women, to stop boxing themselves in. How do you think the industry can evolve to show a wider range of identities and experiences, especially actors like yourself?
This is a tricky one. Often, we settle for the opportunities others think we’re worthy of, instead of those we can truly achieve. In many brown communities, there’s a level of conservatism and cultural stigma that can make us feel like we need to fit into a very specific box. If we’re too loud, too opinionated, or too “much,” there’s a fear we won’t be seen as the ‘good Indian girl.’ I’m not one, I’ve never been one, and I’ve had to make peace with it and march to the beat of my own drum. There’s also still a lot of colourism, especially in media. While it’s far more subtle in Western productions, it’s clear more Eurocentric features are often favoured. The industry needs to show the full range of who we are, unapologetically and without fear of stepping outside a narrow box. Yes, there is room for the representations of our communities that currently exist on screen, but I often feel (particularly in Australian media) that we go for the ‘safe choice’. As actors, we are often told we have to be a ‘blank slate’- but here’s the thing. You bring your life, your truth, and your own unique energy to every role. If there’s a guttermouthed ratbag inside you, itching to break free—let her out! I’m the biggest cheerleader for being a free spirit, whether that means quitting a job you hate, jumping out of an aeroplane, or cutting off all your hair. The industry needs more of that freedom—the raw, unapologetic sides of ourselves.
It’s clear you’re a strong ally and advocate for both queer and POC communities in the entertainment industry. How do you balance your activism with your career, and do you think these two elements help inform each other?
It’s funny, I never really saw myself as an ‘activist’—for me, activism and artistry go hand in hand. My beliefs and opinions shape who I am, and if that means striving for self-improvement and becoming a more empathetic, informed person, I don’t see that as a bad thing. Although I’ve been told I seem ‘intimidating’ on a first impression, the truth is, I’m a huge empath and feel things very deeply. Because I care so much about my friends and the wider community, I gravitate toward projects that benefit or amplify diverse voices. However, I also find it incredibly satisfying when I work on more “mainstream” or conventional projects and end up being the token in the room. It sparks interesting conversations and creates space for mutual learning and unlearning, which is just as valuable.
In your earlier years, the industry was much “less woke” as you’ve said. Can you please share more about your experience navigating that environment, and how you feel the industry has changed over time?
I don’t like to talk about this stuff too much, as I feel many BIPOC actors re-hash their trauma with the industry often! I will share a funny one:
Many years ago, I went in for a makeup TVC audition for a large and very well-known beauty brand. This was just as the ‘Fenty’ era was rising, and beauty giants were scrambling to keep up to expand their range of colours. When I arrived, we were told they would swatch the makeup on us and do a camera test as we performed the lines.
I sat in the poor makeup artists chair, and she looked at me like she’d just eaten a lime.
She picked up the darkest shade they had (around a light olive) and said, “We’ll just try, don’t worry there’s a shade two shades darker that they forgot to bring”. Frankly, even if it was two shades darker, there were still about four to get through before it would remotely match my tone! She stood there, gingerly dotting the product on my cheeks.
By the time she had finished I looked like the crypt keeper. I looked in the mirror and laughed my way into the audition room, where the director was clearly unimpressed. I decided then that there was no way I was getting the job, and even if by some miracle they DID offer it to me, I would decline. As I was leaving, a Sudanese girl entered the casting office. I wished her luck and warned her about the awkwardness she, too, was about to endure.
What annoyed me the most about this audition wasn’t just the absurd makeup— it was that while the casting agency was trying to bring in diverse talent, the beauty brand’s ‘wokeness’ was purely superficial. Developing a product that suited a range of skin tones felt more like ticking a box than actually striving for diversity.
Thank goodness it’s been a long while since anything like this has happened to me! If this happened now, there would be a shitstorm on social media.
Your award-winning dance film Twin Flame, which premiered last year, continues to tour the festival circuit. How did this project come to life, and what role does story-telling through dance play in your artistic vision?
Twin Flame was written in the throes of the 1st and 2nd Melbourne lockdowns, lest we forget. My friend and frequent collaborator Ida Ghate and I were spending a lot of time together as lockdown buddies, and we were brainstorming ideas for a live dance show. Among the atmosphere of lockdowns, many live performers were pivoting to video because we had no idea when we would be on stages again. We had a concept that we reshaped to create a narrative dance film, exploring the archetypes of Hindu mythology through Goddess Kali and Goddess Parvati. I’ve encountered so many stunning dance films but always found that I wanted to see more of a narrative, or to find the film engaging of its own merit, even without the elements of dance. Ida and I also wanted to explore the representation of classical Indian forms of dance; fusing our own practices of Kathak and Contemporary to create a film that showcased our unique styles in a way that felt modern, yet still authentic. I approach most of my work this way. I believe culture is important, but I’m not here to create an educational product that becomes soulless by trying to pander to puritanism. I’m here to bring authenticity to varied modes of storytelling and then interrogate and dissect it through a more progressive lens.
As the newly appointed artistic director of a young production company, what are your goals and visions for the company?
Shadow Goose Entertainment was formed because we want to bridge the gap between major production companies, and micro/ indie productions. A few of our team mates come from the world of independent theatre, but have worked our way up whilst retaining some of that fringe ethos and spirit. At the moment we are focusing on unscripted content, documentaries and one or two lifestyle/ reality shows. Although we love a guilty watch of MAFS, or Real Housewives, we want to create impactful work with an emphasis on truthful human experiences, indigenous issues, and unique Australian stories. Eventually we want to be able to create and facilitate the development of content that is bold and unique- even if other larger networks have passed over it. My dream would be to produce work in the vein of entertainment company A24; a huge inspiration for me.
What advice would you give to emerging artists, particularly those from marginalised backgrounds, who are trying to break through in the industry?
I think this advice applies to many emerging artists, regardless of your background. 1) Sometimes your family will NOT understand what you are pursuing, and that’s okay. 2) Find your people and find the right collaborators. Sometimes, this takes a while. 3) Rejection is a major part of this industry. Learning to live with the disproportionate amount of rejection that artists get, only makes you that much stronger.
Looking ahead, what’s next for you? Are there any upcoming projects or aspirations that you’re particularly excited about in your career?
At the moment I’m really focusing on the Shadow Goose Entertainment side of my work, and also trying to manifest an awesome theatre role this year. I’m so ready for a challenge at the moment- so I’m putting it out to the universe! Outside of that, I’m working on a few theatre developments and forever auditioning for Film and TV. I’m secretly also hoping that Good Cop Bad Cop will get a season 2- that’s a set I would be particularly excited to return to!
