It’s 9 PM at Xavier’s College. We are 12 hours into the shoot, with eight shots left out of the 30 that we’ve unrealistically committed to (because, advertising circa 2024). The overtime shift is about to begin, the quality of shots is suffering, and as the director, it’s starting to feel like a lot.
Naturally, my manic side has reared its head: I’m speaking in clipped tones, screaming at nobody in particular (as if screaming ever made things move faster) and just being my most ridiculous self. Clearly, I’ve given up hope. Despite this, the crew maintains their calm. They focus on the work while I focus on them. My DA brings up a random idea I mentioned 14 days ago, which she dutifully noted. My chief AD insists I stick to my vision, even though we are out of time. My producer, though begrudgingly, offers me the additional shots I need for a director’s cut. Everyone is, quite simply, doing their best.
Many sulking hours later, I’m finally in bed, reflecting on my behaviour and wondering whether I will ever change. I have tried, believe me, I have. But when I’m on a film set and things aren’t going my way, I become possessed by a madness that grows as the day drags and eventually turns into a rather wild beast.
Directors, we have all been here.
Our passion brings intensity and we must serve that passion. Sure, we’ll always strive to meditate on set, but let’s be honest - something will inevitably tip us over into hysteria. It’s just the nature of the job. Being truly alive might always mean being a little mad - the two are, of course, interchangeable.
That said, hasn’t it felt lately like advertising is in a state of flux and we’re compromising more than ever? I know I’ve found myself making more concessions than I’m comfortable with. We’re all purists, but the fight to hold onto creative purity has become so exhausting that we’re often tempted to just “let it go.”
And yet, amidst this state of flux, there’s the crew. Time and again, they remind me - sometimes gently, sometimes firmly - to be my maddest self.
Because, within a crew, the madness is understood. During a recent moment of doubt, my DA gently nudged me back to myself, saying, “This is the most non-Tanvi Gandhi reaction to a problem ever,” - her way of saying, “Hey girl, buck up.”
On another shoot, after I rudely expressed my disappointments, my DOP said, “You’re right to feel this way and expect what you want; I just wish I had the time to give it to you.”
His way of saying, “What matters is that you continue expecting the best”. Pure. Insistent.
While the creative process may currently feel diluted with research data, thumbstoppers and the need to shoot more shots in a day than is creatively possible, what we can hold onto is the purity of the people who surround us. In them, there is always hope.
The author is a film director, editor and (much to her friends and family’s dismay) a total sentimentalist. She continues our series, in which through a female lens, women ad film directors and producers share their thoughts about the industry.
This column first appeared in our January issue. Get your copy here. For subscription options click here.