So I've been having regular stints with a major production company in Mumbai which 'manufactures' daily soaps that has most of the significant population in its snare. I'm learning my way around to being a cameraman, or a cinematographer, so to speak, and yes-i know its not a good place to start. I have to say i'm frequenting them solely for the purpose of entertainment!
My first day, I hobble in, drenched to the bone, dripping water all over the set, jittery as to how things might turn out. The cameraman on set waves out to me, I make my way to him, as I approach him, he smiles, bows down cupping his fist and says, "mastah!mastah!teach me kung fu!!" Thus began day one.
Now things between a TV serial set and a film set aren't too different. There's a cameraman, there're his assistants, there's the lighting crew and the gaffer, there's the director and his assistants-well, one gets the picture. The only difference i noticed is there's four times more shouting involved and less than half the work done.
I'll have to be partial to the cameraman and his assistants, they're nice guys, I'm ripping the rest apart!
The director: well not all of them are the same, but this one will surely take the cake, and stuff his face with it. Short, fat, balding, hairy little midget on stilts, with a mouth so dirty it'll make a tranny whore from kamatipura blush, the intelligence of,well,a daisy, and the personality of a piece of cardboard. I've looked at a blueberry cheesecake with more dignity than I've looked at him. Legend has it he has more than 6 assistants under him, so far i've managed to locate three, who seem moderately alive, they breathe and respond to when poked in the eye. The others seem to be there 'in spirit'.
The crew: I've never seen such a large crew in such a small area with so much to do yet none doing anything close to industrial standards of productivity. A tyrade of abuses from the director, one which would make a well oiled machine gun feel redundant and want to hang itself, makes everyone get up in a start, and with precision that can only be matched by the secret service themselves, get in each others way!The asst cameramen step in and guide the lighting guys to do just what they need, and sit back to watch the circus unfold. One really can't blame them. The setting crew seem to have everything figured out, the bizarre set with equally bizarre props cannot be handled by anyone else, everyone knows its best left to them and them alone. The director of course is still on rapid fire mode, and is eventually ignored. The kinos which are supposed to emit white light seem to have a mind of their own, one set gives off a yellow tint, one gives off a blue tint, the other red and one just flickers unabashedly like a pervert having the orgasm of his lifetime on a crowded bus. The cameraman gives me the lowdown on the lighting basics on such a set,"make the subject visible." Profound.
The set is miraculously ready, the lights are up and running, the errant kino is still ejaculating, now all thats needed are the actors. Now if an A.D. could be so kind enough to locate one, any one of them. But then again, one needs to locate the A.D's, one, any one of them. Enter director, savior of the day, a septic tank full of expletives is unleashed, 2 minutes later a stranger scampers in with a trail of strange looking women behind him. A.D. #1 has been located, and so have the actors.
Everything is in position, we are finally ready to shoot, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand,aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand...
Strangely, before the much awaited command, "action!" there seems to be this church hymn long series of aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand's.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, (pause), "ACTION!"
Maybe there is a god...
Until later
