We are a wonderful tribe. We open our pants, and also take the shit.
For 6 long months, we battle every idiocy that the client comes up with, tackle every piece of insane comment made by research respondents who only come for the ‘Free Varun Stainless Steel Plates’ at the end of it, work our ass off till there is no coffee in the vending machine or auto willing to drop you home, finely balance between the 29 parameters of the most puzzling briefs, wait endlessly for meetings to happen in no-smoking zones, accommodate everyone’s wish list down to the liftman to come up with an approved script.
By now, you’ve reached a point where the only non-advertising life you’re left with is probably that school friend you’ve added on Facebook and sent a ‘wassup’ scrap.
But that’s ok. Now, you have with you a script that can change your fortune, an approved script.
You’re just one man away from being a superstar…
Kurusawa’s step son ‘The Director’. (background music)
In the beginnning, it’s difficult to even talk to this man. You would have sent the script but he’ll be busy shooting another happening commercial. It’ll seem like that you are actually intruding into his award winning efforts, by wasting his time on your pathetic script, while all he’s doing is actually shooting an irritating hair cream commercial with some superstar, just because that agency head has asked him to do bloody well do it.
But don’t blame him yet.
The poor chap still doesn’t know the crap he’s just dished out. It’ll take the poor fellow a little while to figure that one out.
He’ll first invite all his smoking buddies at the editing studio, to stub their ciggies and watch the masterpiece he’s just made. It’s only when, after over 7 of them run back to their ciggies, he’ll get the first stench of his own crap.
He’ll now join back his ciggie buddies, make some quick comparisons of his shot breakdown to some world cinema, blame the illiterate agency and the client for not letting him do what he set out to, and then with a deep sigh, decide to move on to the next script.
The crappy printout of some struggler’s script, keenly held out by the anxious producer.
He’ll make faces, ponder, and ask a few questions ‘Writer kaun hai? agency kaunsa hai? paisa hai?’. Then, then….he’ll see his share of the money in the twinkling eyes of the producer (Mr. Warner Bro)……but no,….he’s only …only going to do it, because he’s taken it upon himself to fight this noble cause of bettering the quality of Indian advertising.
Kurosawa Junior has finally agreed to stoop down and uplift your piece of crap.
He’ll ask Warner Bro to ask you to give him a call.
After that, he’ll ask you to narrate the garbage you’ve written, in your own style. You’ll put on your best voice and narrate the script with all the enthusiasm that’s still left in you.
‘Hmmm….lemme think and get back to you.’ is all that you’ll hear.
Then it’s suspense time. You’ll be given a few clues here and there as to what is happening. You’ll now send him a long note on all that you forgot to tell him over that conversation. The boring product window, the longer version of the line that you just told him, the stupid client remarks on a few scenes, the kind of models you have in mind, and of course your two silly world cinema references, which are still german or french but not untapped uzbekistanese….
Its now PPM time…the time when client gets to meet the pedigree and not just the everyday barking mongrels.
Kurosawa Jr and Warner Bro will walk in 15 mins before the event. Everything from the new far off airport to the disgusting traffic will be discussed. Anything but the script. Any queries regarding the script will be brushed off with a hollywood expression of ‘main hoon na’.
The moment has arrived. Tea in special cups and premium biscuits will arrive.
The same script will now be narrated to the client by Kurosawa jr. (It’s the same news that’s on doordarshan, but it sounds so much better on STAR TV.) The same line, where no one got the humor in the past six months will now sound doubly funny. The whole hall will be in splits except the writer.
The client will now ask some vague questions, Kurosawa Jr will give some inane replies, servicing will masterfully jot it down to make it sound open ended and creative will decide to have a private discussion with the director later.
Time for Timeline discussions…Kurosawa Jr will step out for a smoke warning Warner Bro to speed up and Creative will step out for a leak.
And then ….all of a sudden…..KABOOOM!! See you on the day of the shoot.
It’s nothing close to what was in the script or the story board or what was discussed in the PPM or in that world cinema reference.
Two people are specially engaged to keep you busy with yummy refreshments in a corner. Keep your mouth busy or keep it shut is the unsaid message.
Every time Kurosawa Jr screams, you feel its directed towards you, so you rather enjoy that special dhokla with imli chutney.
Any attempt to talk to K Jr. in the meanwhile will be tackled with a ‘we should have discussed that earlier’.
Soon, you’ll be in that studio. K Jr will beam over his masterpiece, storm out and return with a few nicotine smelling buddies. They’ll watch it, smile and return in a hurry to their ciggies.
You’ll be curious. You’ll step out to only find Kurosawa Jr sitting with twinkling eyed Warner Bro.
On another pathetic script.