How to make any shot exciting, learn from Bollywood
hint: it involves a lot of dancing
2007. The year the Hindi movie Cash released, and I was glued to MTV as I danced endlessly to Zara Bach Ke. In the song Dia Mirza, Zayed Khan, Ritesh Deshmukh, Esha Deol and Shamita Shetty, in their own words, shake that thing in the middle of a maze-like set. Each actor appears from one place and disappears into another, doing a swaggy-dance on the way. Their semi-coordinated, extremely addictive moves were magnificent because it was all in one shot.
The one shot is a cinematic technique where action is captured in a single long take. There are no cuts from start to finish. You might remember the method from the Oscar-winning film Birdman (2014) for its attempt at making the full movie look like a one shot. In the digital age of cinema cutting has become the easiest and most necessary tool to make an edit look dynamic. But when that wasn’t the option, a moving camera in a single shot made magic happen on screen. Let me explain.
Zara Bach Ke on first glance doesn’t look like a single continuous movement. The reason? The camera movement. The song has everything; closeups, wides, whip pans, dutch angles. It never makes you feel like the pace has dropped. The camera man and his assistant were probably running through the set to make sure they were at the right spot at the right time. The fact that it was shot in a maze-like set enhanced the dynamism on screen. The performers could snake in and out of the structure seamlessly to disappear and reappear in frame. You never got bored.
Now let’s strip away the set, strip away the dynamic movements, strip away the Usain-Bolt-like-cameraman and look at the one shot in a more naked form. Roop Tera Mastana from the 1969 film Aradhana is essentially just two people in a room being followed by a camera. In the song Rajesh Khanna and Sharmila Tagore are engaging in some old-school flirting. They follow each other, touch each other’s faces, take their hands away, increase longing, seduction, sensuality and finally, they give in to their attraction. In simpler terms, they hold each other's gaze and walk around a bonfire. The camera is constantly moving however in the first one minute of it you won't even notice that it's there. The two actors remain in a close as the camera follows their movement. It is only after they settle down near the bonfire that the camera starts moving on its own, circling them as they react to one another’s touch. This song stands out because of its choice of shooting this as a one-shot. The upbeat rhythm in the song would favour faster cuts and quicker camera movements. However, the song also has a heavy, sensual, jazz undertone which is slower. It is this pace that the song follows. The result is 3:44 seconds of pure longing and need. And if you had any doubts about whether this was a sexy song, Sharmila Tagore’s off-shoulder top and Rajesh Khanna’s unbuttoned button-up will fill in the blanks.
There’s one thing that makes one shot dance sequences in Bollywood films so brilliant: backup dancers. In everyone’s favourite wedding song Gallan Goodiyan from Dil Dhadakne Do (2015), director Zoya Akhtar weaves a sea of backup dancers into an already large ensemble cast to create movie magic. In her own words, she wanted to make the song look like “a home video.” Pulling off a feat like this involves utmost precision in choreography, not just of the dancers but of the technicians as well. Everything in the frame was perfectly timed, perfectly placed and perfectly enjoyed. The camera covers space naturally, emphasising the right moments in the choreography. The choreography itself enhances each actor's character – precisely like a home video. Nothing is out of place, and everything is in frame.
One shots run the risk of looking boring. It's the reason people use so many moving elements to make the frame look exciting. Placing an almost still camera in one place with few people on screen and a modest set takes guts. Sanjal Leela Bhansali has those guts. Meri Jaan from Gangubai Kathiawadi deserves an essay of its own. Timing, musicality, choreography, lighting, acting and camera work – all perfect. In the song, Alia Bhatt and Shantanu Maheshwari are sitting at the back of a taxi as they flirt and tease each other. The song itself has a three-act story – Alia, as Gangubai, teases Shantanu, as Afsaan, by asking him to kiss her. She denies his requests. His desperation builds and he pounces on her. This angers Alia, she slaps him in response. The two sit in silence for a moment before Alia pities him and embraces him. She asks him not to kiss her or hold but just to caress her head. She begins to cry at his tenderness. This, all of this, in just 2 and a half minutes. A single camera, relatively unwavering in its movement, the actors in a mid-shot and the constantly changing lighting. Absolute brilliance. The one shot in all its glory, beauty and magnitude.