Producing Bollywood: Inside the Contemporary Hindi Film Industry (24 page)

Although a detailed discussion of the formalization of training in filmmaking is beyond the scope of this book, I want to mention briefly efforts by producer/director Subhash Ghai to transform filmmaking from an apprenticeship-based trade into a formally trained profession. A graduate of the state-funded and state-run Film and Television Institute of India, Ghai embarked on an ambitious project in 2000: to create a private film school that would better serve the needs of the Hindi film industry in terms of talent and training. He represented this project as his contribution back to the industry and to ameliorate the situation where a person like him, without kin and social connections, who would normally find it difficult or nearly impossible to gain access to the industry, could be trained and pursue a career in filmmaking. “I had a vision somewhere to institutionalize the industry, and I myself am a self-made man. I came alone in this industry and I didn’t have a family background. Other people made movies for their families and they died. Everybody talked about cinema, but they never gave back anything” (Ghai, interview, October 2000).

Ghai’s vision, Whistling Woods International: Institute for Film, Television and Media Arts, opened its doors to its first entering class in July 2006. Its informational catalog opens with “A Note from Subhash Ghai,” where in seven paragraphs he lays out his motivation for creating the school. One reason given is the improvement of the quality of cinema in India, which can only be had with proper training: “India needs a worldclass cinema and therefore a world-class media school. In Mumbai, thousands of aspirants come from all over India and even from abroad to join the film industry, but they don’t have the guidance or a platform from which they can realize their potential. These aspirants need structured education and a space especially designed to develop their skills in aesthetics and technique” (Whistling Woods International Prospectus 2006–7: 5). Another part of the note emphasizes how filmmaking is a profession that requires a proper formal education, like other more valued and respected professions in India: “I must add that in this fastgrowing industry and an ever-changing world, parents or guardians of talented youth must realize that education in this field is as important as it is in medicine or engineering or any other profession. Aspiring filmmakers must get professional training, and Whistling Woods International, after meticulous research and development, has designed every course to maximize the artistic, technical and professional development of its students, to give them the best skills possible in building a career in film” (Whistling Woods International Prospectus 2006–7: 5).

When viewed against the broader concerns about respectability, an institution such as Whistling Woods represents not just the formalization and professionalization of training in filmmaking, but also a catalyst for bringing about respectability to filmmaking and the Hindi film industry in general.
³⁰
Requiring that its applicants be both proficient in English and have at least twelve years of formal schooling situates Whistling Woods within the broader post-secondary educational landscape in India. By providing people without any social or family connections a systematic avenue, through training, internships, and career fairs, to enter the film industry, Whistling Woods implicitly addresses the potential for exploitation faced by unconnected individuals, who may fall prey to the “casting couch.” Of course the costs of attending this institution, coupled with the English and educational requirements, means that this sort of training and access is restricted to individuals from upper-middle-class or even more socially elite backgrounds.
³¹
Sridhar Kumar, a struggling director from a small town in India, was skeptical of Whistling Woods’s impact in terms of providing access to the industry.
³²
Looking through
its catalog after I had returned from my visit and tour of the institute, Kumar pointed out that the brochure was intimidating—with its stock photographs of boardrooms and classrooms peopled with an array of non–South Asian individuals. He conjectured that the costs and the emphasis on English as a medium of instruction would make the institution appear completely inaccessible to someone from a small town or nonmetropolitan area in India. Shaking his head, Kumar said dismissively, “This is just a place for rich kids.” Thus institutions such as Whistling Woods are also centrally involved in the gentrification of the Hindi film industry.

This chapter has focused on Hindi filmmakers’ anxieties around
respectability
, which have been expressed primarily through concerns about the social origins of its members—mostly actresses—the practices of female modesty, the disavowal of interest in or connection to the film industry, and the valorization of formal higher education. In filmmakers’ discussions, the middle class emerges as a normative social category and the arbiter of respectability, against which the film industry is measured. Although Hindi filmmakers’ concern with respectability has been a longstanding one, the conditions of its possibility can only be achieved with the shift from a developmentalist to a neoliberal paradigm. With its commercial and entertainment orientation, the Hindi film industry always fell short of the goals of social uplift and modernization outlined by the Nehruvian developmentalist state. In chapter one I discussed how the neoliberal transformation of the Indian political economy reconfigured the value and status of filmmaking. What the present chapter has demonstrated is that despite the reconstitution of middle-class identities in India under neoliberalism discussed by scholars (Dwyer 2000, Fernandes 2006, Mazzarella 2003), the film industry is a site for the continued presence and valorization of older definitions of middle-classness, based on qualities of modesty, self-restraint, and self-discipline. The significance attributed to the notion of respectability is the most telling example of filmmakers’ sense of its tenuous presence within the industry.

In fact, the continued relevance of the concept of respectability corresponds to the new structures of financing and production that have come about for Hindi filmmaking since 2000. With the increasing presence of the Indian corporate sector, traditional members of the film industry are concerned with demonstrating their ability to fit into this other social
world. Chapter seven focuses on how Hindi filmmakers try to recast filmmaking into a modern, high-status profession. In order to make sense of those efforts, however, it is first necessary to understand the general working style, production practices, and overall structure of the Hindi film industry, which I turn to in the following three chapters.

When family members visited me in Bombay during my fieldwork in 1996, they were curious and excited to see a film shoot, or “shooting,” as it is more commonly referred to in India. Afterward, they invariably complained about the repetition, tedium, and boredom they experienced while observing the shoot. They asked, “How do you do this every day? Don’t you get bored?” I was also asked some variant of these questions by a number of people in Bombay who had had the opportunity to observe film shoots in the city.
¹
Given that my dissertation was to be an ethnography of film production, film shoots were the most logical sites to begin my research. As my research progressed, I realized that film shoots not only yielded information about specific production practices, but also many insights into the structure, organization, and social relations of the film industry itself. In this chapter, I present a detailed sketch of a typical day on a Hindi film set in order to impart the spirit and essence of the working style of Hindi filmmakers as well as to bring to light prominent characteristics of the industry’s structure and organization.
²
This typical day is a composite drawn from my observations of a variety of film shoots. Although the sketch is written in the present tense, it is not a timeless ethnographic present, but represents Hindi filmmaking of the late 1990s and the early 2000s. The sketch also provides the foundation for understanding the prominent discourses of change and progress that are addressed in chapter
seven, as well as how audiences are represented and discussed, examined in chapter eight.

The sketch illustrates some
of
the main features of the work culture of the
film industry
: the prevalence of face-to-face interactions; the significance of kinship as a source of talent; the set as a meeting space; the highly oral style of working; and the very visible manifestations of hierarchy. It also puts forth the flexibility—by which I mean the ability to make impromptu decisions, the capacity to adapt to uncertainty, and a willingness to change the course of action—that is characteristic of Hindi filmmaking. Additionally, it portrays conversations about audiences, commercial outcome, and Hollywood that are significant components of the industry’s production-talk, which provides insights into the prevailing ideologies of production and self-representations of the industry. Finally, it depicts the presence of Hindu rituals, which have become incorporated into production routines, as well as the tremendous diversity— regional, linguistic, and religious—of members of the film industry.
³

A Hindi film set is a very multi-lingual environment, with a fair amount of English spoken by principal decision makers, as well as code-switching between Hindi and English. For the sake of readability, however, I have presented all of the conversations in English and indicate with italics those sentences that originally occurred in Hindi, indicating with roman type those words that remain in English even when the conversation is in Hindi. In keeping with the idioms of Indian English, I maintain the use of Hindi honorific suffixes such as
ji
(sir/madam) and
saab
(sir), as well as words and phrases like
haan
(yes),
accha
(good, okay), and
theek hai
(okay, alright), because these are commonly employed in everyday speech. Since the terms used for the various crew positions and tasks on a film set in India differ from those used in the United States, I use local terminology and provide definitions when necessary.
⁴
The two chapters following this sketch analyze in depth the issues raised by the ethnographic material.

It is the first day of the first shooting schedule of mdakmh, produced by M. K. Malhotra, written and directed by Rakesh Chadda, and starring Vijay Khanna, the currently reigning matinee idol, and Sulekha, a recent Miss India pageant winner from southern India, who is being introduced in this film. During this schedule, a song and dance sequence celebrating
Diwali
will be shot in eight-hour shifts, over the span of two and a half weeks.
⁵
An elaborate set depicting the courtyard of a two-story
haveli
, a traditional Indian mansion, has been erected at Filmistan—a studio located in the northwestern suburb of Goregaon—inside one of their larger sound stages, which are called “shooting floors” in Bombay.
⁶
Consisting of an enormous free-standing concrete structure with no soundproofing, air conditioning, or toilets, this particular shooting floor stands 95 feet high, 150 feet long, and 120 feet wide (
Figure 8
).

FIGURE 8
Shooting floor, Film City, Goregaon (northwestern suburb of Bombay), 2005.
Photo by the author.

While the shift begins at 9:00 a.m., the art director, Shantanu Sen, arrives with his assistants by 7:30, in order to put the finishing touches on the set: decorating the arches around the courtyard with garlands of fresh marigolds, placing
diyas
—the small clay oil lamps traditionally used to illuminate homes during
Diwali—
in the numerous alcoves along the wall, and painting
rangolis
—colorful patterns used to decorate homes during festivals—on the floor. Around 8:30 a truck arrives with all of the lights, and workers start unloading the equipment, bringing it onto the set. Another van arrives with the camera and its attendants. The cinematographer, Satish Menon, reaches the set shortly thereafter with his assistants and begins the task of lighting the set. Workers place lights on stands in various corners of the set and overhead on the catwalk, while
one of Menon’s assistants starts to take light readings. Meanwhile, the sound recordist sets up his equipment—a reel-to-reel tape player, a large speaker, and headphones—in one corner of the set.

By 9:00 a.m. the director, Rakesh Chadda, and the dance director, Tanaaz Khan, arrive with their respective assistants.
⁷
Two spot boys—men who do all forms of miscellaneous work on a film set—immediately bring chairs for Chadda and Khan, who nonetheless remain standing. Chadda says, “
Hey man, get me some tea: it will wake me up
,” Menon walks over to Chadda and starts discussing where he wants to place the camera for the first shot.

Khan interrupts, “Rikki, all of the background dancers are here today so we really should do that overhead crane shot first with everyone in the frame.”

“I didn’t hire the crane for today,” Menon interjects, “because I didn’t think we needed it today. I thought we were doing the tracking shots.”

Chadda asks, “Do you think we can get the crane for tomorrow?”

“I’ll have to check that it’s not already booked by another unit,” Menon replies. “You know there’s only one crane of that height in Bombay.”

“In that case,” Khan says, “let’s do the first
antara
[stanza] today. We can use all of the dancers today.” Then she turns to her two assistants, “Kabir, Sania, go get the dancers and start showing them the steps.”

While Khan’s assistants summon the background dancers, who have been lounging outside the set, an assistant director (ad) goes to the makeup rooms to inquire whether Sulekha has arrived and if she is getting ready. The actress is present, along with her mother and sister, and is having her hair and makeup done, but is also waiting for her designer to arrive with her outfits for the song. Another ad calls Vijay Khanna on his cell phone to find out if he is on his way to the set; he is informed by Khanna’s man-Friday that “
saab
” (sir) is still sleeping, as he was shooting for another film until 2:00 a.m.

While he waits for the actors to get ready, Chadda keeps himself busy with his cell phone—sending text messages to his friends and playing games. A man in his early thirties, with a thick manila file folder in his hand, approaches him tentatively.

“Rakesh-
ji
?”

Chadda, without looking up from his phone replies, “
Haan
? [yes]”

The man clears his throat and introduces himself, “
Sir, I’m Alok Sharma,
I am Mrs. Mishra’s—Mrs. Mishra, your neighbor, they live on the same floor
as you—I’m her nephew. I spoke to you on the phone concerning my script
.”

Chadda looks up, staring at the man for a moment. “Yes, of course,
please sit.” Realizing there’s no chair next to him, Chadda turns around and yells, “
Hey spot boy! Bring a chair here!
”

Sharma sits down and takes out a large sheaf of paper held together with staples and hands it to Chadda. “
Sir, I’ve written this screenplay, if you
would read it. .
.”

Chadda interrupts, “Tell me the story in one line.”

Sharma clears his throat again, “It is about a woman’s struggle against the society.”

Chadda interjects, “
Oh no, that is really clichéd! What’s new about that
?” Sharma protests, “But sir, I haven’t finished: the woman is a journalist who goes to a village in Rajasthan to expose child marriage.”

Chadda retorts, “Is this a film or a documentary? How is this commercial?”

Sharma continues, “She falls in love with the local schoolteacher who is also trying to stop the practice.”

Chadda sighs and asks, “So the schoolteacher is the hero? Who do you have in mind for that role?”

“I was thinking that Vijay-
ji
. . .”

“You want Vijay-
ji
to do a heroine-oriented film?” Chadda interrupts. “You think the top star of the country will agree to play second lead to a heroine?”

“
That is why I thought, it will be out of the ordinary. Audience will see him
in a new role
,” responds Sharma.

“Have you spoken with him?”

“
Ji nahin
[no sir],” Sharma answers. “I was hoping that after you read the script that you could speak to Vijay-
ji
about it, and if he likes it then he could speak with Malhotra-
saab
.”

Seeing the film’s producer, M. K. Malhotra, arrive, Chadda stands up, cutting short his conversation with Sharma, “
Theek hai
, [okay] I’ll have a look and get back to you.” The writer looks crestfallen and calls after him, “Thank you; my mobile number is on the title page of the script!”

“Duffer,” Chadda mutters to himself as he walks toward Malhotra and his two tall and lanky sons. “
Hello, Malhotra-saab, how are you
?” he asks, to which the producer replies, “
You tell me, Rikki, is everything alright
?”

Chadda answers, “
Absolutely fine, how do you like the set, it’s quite grand
isn’t it
?”

“
The amount of money you made me spend on it, it should be
,” Malhotra retorts.

“
What to do, Malhotra-saab
,” Chadda rejoins. “
You know for our art director
only the best materials will do
!”

While Malhotra and Chadda are conversing, spot boys place chairs behind them and rush off to bring another round of tea. Sitting down and taking a sip from his tea, Malhotra speaks to Chadda.

“
Rikki, meet my sons—the older one is Vikky, short for Vikram—he’s
twenty-one years old—and the younger one is Lucky, short for Lakshman:
he’s eighteen years old. Put them to work; make them your
assistants.”

Chadda responds, “
Of course, but both of them have so much presence,
why don’t you have them become
actors
? I’ll direct that
picture
. I already have
three assistants
.”

“
Yes, yes, I will do that, but right now they are young and immature, first
they should learn a little bit about this field, if they’re not able to become
stars
,
at least they can get into
direction.”

Without registering any emotion at Malhotra’s characterization of direction, Chadda shouts out for his chief assistant, “Sanjeev! Sanjeev! Where’s Sanjeev?”

Arif, another one of his assistants, rushes to Chadda’s side, “I think he’s outside, sir.”

“Well, go and tell him to come inside,” Chadda says firmly.

Arif dashes outside the set to find Sanjeev smoking a cigarette and texting on his cell phone. “
Sanjeev! Rakesh-ji is looking for you
.
He seems a
little angry
.”

Sanjeev quickly stubs out his cigarette on the ground and hurries inside to where Chadda is sitting with Malhotra, “Yes, Rakesh-
ji
?” “
Saala!
[idiot] When I call for you—you need to be within hearing range, got that?”

“
Ji
[yes],” murmurs Sanjeev.

Chadda says slowly, “Anyway, this is Vikky and Lucky, Malhotra-
saab
’s sons, who are joining the direction team from today—why don’t you show them around the set, fill them in on the details, and catch them up with what needs to be done around here.”

Sanjeev, who had been assisting Chadda for the past four years, understanding his boss’s demeanor of resigned frustration, adds, “How about if they are in charge of costume continuity? We don’t have anyone doing that yet.”

Chadda turns to Malhotra and asks, “
Theek hai
[Okay]?”

Malhotra responds, “
Badiya
[excellent].”

Sanjeev turns to Lucky and Vikky and says, “Come with me, I’ll show you the set and get you the costume continuity notebook. We have to go upstairs.”

As they walk toward the staircase on the left side of the set, Lucky remarks, “I didn’t know that the balcony and stairs were real. I just thought it was all for show.”

Sanjeev responds, “It had to be real and sturdy because, in the opening of the song, all of the girl dancers will be at the balcony with Sulekha and then will follow her down the stairs.”

Once they’re upstairs, Lucky surveys the set below and exclaims, “Wow
yaar
[dude]! It looks really good from here!
Hai na
, [isn’t that so] Vikky?” Vikky nods, “Yeah, Dad always demands the best.”

Sanjeev adds, “Our art director, Shantanu-
da
, is very good. So, you two are interested in going into direction?”

Vikky replies, “Not really, I actually want to be an actor, but Dad thinks that I need to be a little older before he launches me, so I’m just preparing now—you know, taking some acting classes with Namit Kishore, learning diction, training at the gym. Dad thinks that spending some time as an assistant will also be useful experience. . .”

Lucky interrupts, “I definitely want to be a director! Hopefully, I’ll get my chance to direct a film soon after Vikky
bhaiyya
’s [brother] launch, and then we can be a complete team—Dad as producer, me as director, and
bhaiyya
as star!”

From his vantage point, Sanjeev notices the Hindu priest entering the set. He tells Vikky and Lucky, “Let’s go down;
Punditji
has come.”

As the three walk back downstairs, Keshav, Chadda’s third assistant, comes up to Chadda and Malhotra and says, “
The priest has come for the
prayer ceremony
.”

Chadda tells Keshav to fetch Sulekha from her makeup room. She appears, wearing a robe and large curlers in her hair, accompanied by her mother. Sulekha, her mother, Malhotra, Chadda, Khan, Menon, and all of their respective assistants gather in a corner of the set where the priest performs a Ganesh
puja
for the production to commence auspiciously.

During the
puja
, a short, balding middle-aged man with a paunch enters the set quietly. Malhotra’s production manager, Iqbal, notices him and motions to Malhotra. Malhotra turns and nods to the man and dispatches Iqbal to find a spot boy to fetch a chair and water for the visitor. Once the
puja
is over, Malhotra gets up off the floor and walks over to the visitor who has been quietly observing all of the activity on the set.

“
Agrawal-saab, what a surprise, what a surprise! How are you? When did
you arrive from Delhi? Will you have tea, or a soft drink?

The visitor, Prakash Agrawal, a distributor from Delhi, is considering
buying the distribution rights of the film for the Delhi-U.P. territory.
⁸
“
Tea without sugar; I came the night before last. So, the
shooting
hasn’t begun
yet? Where are the
actors?”

Malhotra replies, “
They’re getting ready
.
Today they are shooting a big
song, which I guarantee will top the music
countdown shows
as soon as the
album
releases
.
See how grand the
set
looks!
”
⁹

Agrawal retorts, “
Yes, the
set
is nice, but does the film have a strong story
? Audiences
don’t come to the
theater
to see
sets,
they come for good stories
.”