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We always read about people who we see onscreen,here's an article about people off screen.😊
For their pictures,check the link: http://www.ahmedabadmirror.com/article/26/201208192012081902104055ca51759b/Bollywood%E2%80%99s-new-technocrats.html
Bollywood's new technocrats
The hottest stars of the film industry's invisible technical force step out of the dark
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Posted On Sunday, August 19, 2012 at 05:59:25 PM
| 1. Bollywood His-style
Movie producers no longer hesitate to hand over wardrobe responsibilities to young designers. That's why 26-year-old Kunal Rawal has worked on eight movies in two years, including two Tollywood films — Dookudu and Nanban. Youth is something Rawal has had on his side. When he debuted at Lakme Fashion Week in 2006, he was only 21. A student of the London College of Fashion, Rawal was sceptical about joining films because of long hours and nominal pay. "A costume designer's job had no importance," he says. "A decade ago, the director would personally go out and get costumes." His perception changed when Rhea Kapoor asked him to design chic menswear for Aisha. "For the first time, I felt a producer understood fashion," he says. Protagonist Abhay Deol played an investment banker in the film, and Rawal's corporate buddies were his learning school. "They accessorise to stand out," he says. And so, Deol wore Audemars Piguet and Gautier watches and tie clips. To understand characters, Rawal reads the script, has at least three one-hour sittings with the director followed by four months of research. He was aching to do a gangster flick when Shootout at Wadala came his way. Based on Hussain Zaidi's book Dongri to Dubai, here, the film stars Anil Kapoor as retired encounter specialist ACP Isaque Bagwan. Rawal met Bagwan to discuss how he dressed on duty and in disguise. "Mr Isaque had a secret pocket in most trousers for a back-up gun," says Rawal. For Shahid Kapoor in Teri Meri Kahani, his inspiration was Shammi Kapoor. Thus hats, suspenders and a classic white tuxedo inspired by Dil Ke Jharoke Mein in Brahmachari. The first range of the now omnipresent Being Human T-shirts also came out of Rawal's studio, as did Ranbir Kapoor's old man avatar for a telecommunication services brand. Ankit Ajmera 2. 'The power of silence is underestimated Shajith Koyeri, Sound designer Known for: Kaminey, Ishqiya, Omkara, Dasvidaniya, Bluffmaster! Busy with: Anurag Basu's Ranbir Kapoor-Priyanka Chopra starrer Barfi! Twelve years ago, a purposeless 25-year-old from Punnol village in North Kerala, set foot in Mumbai. He harboured no fancy for films, let alone the dynamics of sound. Yet, six years later, he went on to win both, the National and Filmfare awards for his sound design in Omkara. Another six years on and more than 60 movies later, he is one of Bollywood's finest sound designers. Shajith Koyeri's is the quintessential underdog coming-of-age story. At an Andheri studio, neck-deep in perking up Barfi!, Koyeri explains why his craft must organically blend into a film's narrative. "Good sound design empowers visuals to tell the story better. It fills in mood, amplifies emotion and enhances the depth of a scene," he says. To do this, authenticity of sounds is crucial, Shajith believes. To aurally recreate Barfi's Darjeeling and Kolkata scenes, he sent his assistants to record sounds — from Darjeeling's monastery gongs to birds and crickets; from random Bengali conversations on Kolkata's streets to tram rattle. "It is usual practice to visit shooting locales and record ambience," he says. "Be it the jarring Mumbai traffic hum for Bluffmaster! or the unmistakable village buzz for Omkara. Before taking to the console, I read the script and discuss the film's treatment with the director. If I feel the scene works better with sounds rather than music, I convince the director to drop the music." Koyeri follows a simple rule: Sound and music should never clash. "When sound gets loud or chaotic, it sounds cluttered," he explains. "Silence is rarely used effectively in our cinema, though it can heighten drama superbly. Its power to weave drama is underestimated." He gives an example of what could be one of the more aesthetic kissing scenes in Hindi cinema. "In Ishqiya, to build up the scene where Arshad Warsi and Vidya Balan share a passionate kiss, we used silence; stray ambient sounds typical of a village could be heard in the distance. As they kiss, all your hear is them breathing, the rustle of clothes and a ticking clock. The audience feels involved in that intimacy." Conquering the console has been tough. As a child, Koyeri was afflicted with rheumatoid arthritis, a chronic inflammatory disorder that affects tissues and joints. The pain was so unbearable, he later dropped out of college and stayed home. In 1999, he accompanied his sister, who was to meet her husband in Mumbai. "We were supposed to be here for a day but ended up staying for a month. Those 30 days changed me. It was the first time I had stepped out of my village. Mumbai inspired me, my health improved, I was energised." A few months later, his sound designer friend PM Sateesh asked him to assist him at his studio. "It took me six months to grasp the basics. I persisted. Soon, I began editing sound for designers and learnt on the job." Koyeri loves his 10-hour workdays and its challenges. Five years ago, he would be pushed against unreasonable deadlines with fees five times less. "As sound comes last in the production cycle, the producer would be exhausted of funds and would demand a quickie for peanuts. Although sound makes half the film, few appreciate the work we do," he says. Vishal Bhardwaj gave him a break with Maqbool and The Blue Umbrella. "I wanted to work with Vishal-ji on Kaminey, but my hands were full. When he told me he'll wait for me, I was touched," he smiles. What does the future of sound look like? "I wish there comes a day," he says, laughing goofily at his far-fetched theory, "When sounds too have a resale value. Just like music and background scores, what if sounds start selling? I will get to pocket some neat royalty, no?" Anand Holla 3. When a chair makes the difference Mukund Gupta, Art Director Known for: Do Dooni Char, Ishaqzaade Busy with: Farhan Akhtar's Fukrey Landing up at places uninvited, taking pictures, observing people till they walk away nervously, and making copious notes — for art director Mukund Gupta, it is all in a day's work. "Sometimes, I forget my phone back home, but never my camera," says the 29-year-old. A fortnight ago, armed with a DSLR, Gupta visited Delhi colleges in an exercise to gauge how Indian adolescents talk, sit, spend their time and money. "This leads us to information on their background. It will make designing the sets of Fukrey, a breeze," he says about the Excel Entertainment film he is working on. Produced by Farhan Akhtar and Ritesh Sadhwani, it's the story of young college boys from the capital. As art director, Gupta is four-films-old — Habib Faisal's Do Dooni Chaar and Ishaqzaade, Gurmeet Singh's Daana Pani and Sharafat Gayi Tel Lene (both under post production). But it was Do Dooni Chaar, his first independent project that won him a Filmfare award, making it his most special. "A friend tipped me off about Habib sir making a film on a middle-class North Indian family. I come from that milieu." His first meeting with Faisal, however, turned out to be just a few minutes-long. He asked Gupta to find him a prop that would be indicative of a middle-class Indian home. Gupta settled for a toy model of a globe that changed colour. "I was at the Prithvi Theatre caf, reading the script, wondering what prop to present him with. I left for a walk to Juhu beach. A hawker was selling knick knacks, and this globe," he remembers, saying that one prop changed his world. "Making a huge set is not tough; the challenge is in the detailing. You think a chair in one scene won't make a difference to the film. But it does, it changes the way the frame looks, and eventually the film." With Ishaqzaade, the task was to create a fictitious town in Uttar Pradesh. Gupta spent months in Lucknow and Hardoi, hanging out with locals. "Irrespective of whose home I visited, I'd get served Rooh Afza. You'll see Parineeti Chopra's family serve her future groom a glass of the same." Gupta's understanding of his metier is hands-on. Reluctantly, the mass communication graduate handled grip in Jodhaa Akbar and Don. "But I let people know what work I really wanted to do," he says. A meeting with ace art director Anuradha Parikh landed him the opportunity to assist her on Hrithik-starrer Luck by Chance. The boy from a family of engineers says, "For a long time, my family couldn't understand what I was doing. For the world it may be lights, camera, action. For me, it's lights, camera, set." Reema Gehi 4. 'You learn to kill your darlings' Namrata Rao, Editor Known for: Ishqiya, Kahaani, Shanghai Busy with: YRF's SRK-Katrina starrer Yeh Kahan Aa Gaye Hum Namrata Rao is 32. Yet, for a young audience that has grown up on Bollywood's newest crop of well-made films such as Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!, and Love, Sex and Dhoka, Rao is practically a veteran. A Konkani who grew up in New Delhi, Rao tried many suits before finding the one that fit her best. After graduating in Information Technology, and working as a production assistant at NDTV, Rao asked herself the quintessential question confused 20-somethings counter — What will make me happy? She began to study editing at the Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute in Kolkata. That's when director Dibakar Banerjee saw her work in her professor, Shyamal Karmakar's film, I'm The Very Beautiful. Banerjee asked Rao to come on board for Oye Lucky! Seven films followed and last week Rao left for Ladakh to edit Yash Chopra's latest directorial venture, Yeh Kahan Aa Gaye Hum, which is due on November 13. She will edit as the film is shot, given the close deadline. There are two things involved in editing, explains Rao. At the micro level, she works on scenes, sifting through the cinematic takes. Once all the scenes are ready — usually 200 to 300 — she stitches them together, ensuring it seems "seamless, and believable". In a way then, an editor's job is to erase herself and her work — the more seamless a movie appears, the better its editor. "That's the fun of it," Rao says. "You have to make the audience forget that someone has put this film together." To achieve this seamlessness, editors take six to eight months. Yet, the more time you have, she says, the more you'll want to chop and tweak a movie. "Even today, I cringe when I see the sequence where Vidya enters her hotel room and lies down on the bed in Kahaani. I wish I'd chopped more in that scene," Rao confesses. That's where the director's vision and the producer's money, comes in. You can't stray too far from one, or expend too much of the other, she laughs. Often, editing is a collaborative effort, and she has learnt to trust her directors. "Sujoy (Ghosh, of Kahaani) and I were often at loggerheads. There was a scene I wanted to drop because I felt it slowed the pace, but Sujoy insisted it remain as it added texture. When I saw the final cut, I realised he was right," she says. Knowing what to cut and what to keep however, is a matter of trusting the gut, says Rao. "I am always scared of what I've dropped, but I have to trust myself. Ultimately, of course, it's the director's call." The biggest mistake an editor can make is to get attached to her work, Rao points out. "You learn to kill your darlings," she says, "and the end product is the better for it." Dhamini Ratnam 5.'I don't watch films' Aseem Mishra, cinematographer Known for: Paan Singh Tomar, Once Upon a Time in Mumbai, Ek Tha Tiger Busy with: Arbaaz Khan Productions' Dabangg 2 Aseem Mishra has a simple argument to illustrate the importance of the cinematographer. "Music, dialogue and story, are important, yes, but who would want to see a visually poor film? Wouldn't you just hear the dialogues and music on audio?" The 40-year-old Director of Photography for Ek Tha Tiger, is aware of the buzz the film's camerawork has generated. But he prefers crediting the camaraderie he shares with its director Kabir Khan, with the success of how the film looks. Mishra's association with Khan dates back six years when the MCRC Jamia graduate and Khan worked as cameramen with senior journalist Saaed Naqvi. A shift to Mumbai in 2006 meant a transition from documentaries to feature films. The first project he bagged was with Ram Gopal Varma, but Contract's unfortunate fate left him broken. The boy from Dhanbad would've roamed in a disillusioned haze if old friend Khan hadn't introduced him to Aditya Chopra. The Katrina-John Abraham starrer New York was followed by a string of YRF projects, occasionally interrupted by films with Milan Luthria and Tigmanshu Dhulia. "It's great working with directors from varying sensibilities, but with Kabir, there's immense comfort. We share the same political views, and are keen followers of world happenings," says Mishra. The 'keep it simple' mantra follower, says his craft is about the play of lights. "I stay away from references, I don't look at old films. In fact, I don't watch films. I can't sit in one place for three hours," he admits. Mishra calls his job a mentally and physically daunting one that involves constant travel (Ek That Tiger was shot in five countries across three continents) and manic planning. Mishra offers an example: When working on a big budget film, and with a star like Salman Khan, time is money. "We resort to what's referred to as blocking. I can't possibly have Salman stand in various positions while I check lighting. So, we do it with dummy actors. When Salman walks in, we know exactly where we want him to stand." That's not every different from what his father, the Deputy Director General of the National Council for Mines Safety, and an avid photographer, would make him do. Mishra says he hadn't held a camera until he got to Jamia, because his father wouldn't let him touch his rangefinder. "I was his favourite subject. He'd shunt me around, getting me to pose." But being caught in the spell of moving images is one that Mishra should credit the Czechoslovakians with. Films that spoke of safety guidelines for mines would arrive from the country, each reel accompanied by cartoon film. "It was a gift for the kids! We'd set up the projector in the bedroom, and hit the image onto a living room wall. That's always stayed with me." |
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