#BehindTheLens: "With First Act, I aimed to craft a piece that serves as a testament to the times, offering a reflection of how the film industry truly operates" says Deepa Bhatia

In this interview, First Act's director, Deepa Bhatia, discusses the series, its challenges, the art of editing, the BAFTA opportunity and so much more! 

Documentaries often serve as mirrors, reflecting truths we'd rather keep hidden. But it’s something entirely different when a documentary becomes a warning sign, exposing the dark alleys of reality to help us avoid falling into them. First Act does just that for child actors and their parents! By highlighting the journeys of several struggling young performers, the series acts as a guiding light, emphasizing that the innocence of a child should not be sacrificed in the relentless and ruthless pursuit of work, especially if it is not a passion yet realised by the child. And very much like the subject itself, the series holds a clear intention—to ensure that the art of documenting life through cinema isn't lost amid the process of creating it. But what inspired Deepa Bhatia to make such a series? What challenges did she face while making it? And most importantly, what moved her to explore this crucial subject matter?

To shine light on this, Bhatia chatted with us about her journey, her process, the obstacles she handled during the series, her transition from editor to director and much more! This interview was in collaboration with the BAFTA Breakthrough India 2024, a programme initiated by the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA). 

You've gone from being an editor to now a director; how did it all begin for you?

In 2009, I embarked on my first independent documentary project, Nero's Guest, which featured P. Sainath, focusing on farm suicides and the agrarian crisis in India. This was also sort of like my debut as a director. Before this, I had been involved in smaller documentaries and commercials, and because editing came so naturally to me, I found myself constantly immersed in project after project, with my schedule perpetually full. So, just before dabbling into the First Act, it reached a point where I had to make a deliberate choice to say no to editing in order to pursue something I had been passionate about for a long time. I often wondered whether I should take the plunge and do it, especially given my extensive experience with children, parents, and the film industry. At one point, I even considered approaching it as a fiction film.

However, fate had other plans! During a chance encounter at Karan Johar’s Dharma Productions, I ran into the Amazon team in the corridor who were there for a meeting. As we started talking, I mentioned the project I was working on. To my surprise, they suggested turning it into a documentary series. I couldn’t believe it—here was the opportunity I had been chasing to bring this important story to life with the backing of a major platform. That moment marked a significant turning point for me. Now, I no longer feel the same pull towards editing. My focus has shifted towards writing and working on my first feature film. It feels like a natural progression, and I’m excited to see where this path will take me.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Deepa Bhatia (@deepabhatia86)

As a filmmaker, what do you want your films to leave behind?

This is such an important question. Honestly, I just don’t have it in me anymore to work on something that doesn’t mean anything, something that isn’t personal or doesn’t give back in some way to society or people. I’ve reached a point where I can’t see myself editing or being involved in projects that don’t carry that kind of weight. I’ve done 50 projects, and maybe that’s part of it. But now, I just can’t do things for the sake of doing them. With First Act, I wanted to create something that stood as a testament to the times, reflecting how this film industry works. And moving forward, that’s the space I want to stay in—doing work that has meaning, that makes people think, feel, and contributes in some way to the world around us. That’s the zone I’m in right now. I might go broke and have to pick up the next project; who knows? But as long as I can, I’m sticking to this path. And yes, I always have editing to fall back on, but even with editing, I want it to be something that excites me. Something that has value. Let’s see how it goes.

Can you describe a typical process for directing and editing a film? What are some misconceptions about it?

I’m not entirely sure what all the misconceptions are, but when it comes to directing documentaries, I believe it’s really about the relationship you build with your characters. That trust, that bond—that’s something I put a lot of value on. It’s crucial. Another vital aspect is persistence. Many documentaries give the impression that the filmmaker shot for five or ten days, and then it’s done. But I greatly emphasise staying with the characters over a long period. For example, Nero's Guest was shot over four to five years, and it’s been the same with the First Act. I think there’s sometimes a misconception that documentaries can be wrapped up quickly, but it’s a long-term process.

As for editing, I think one misconception, especially now with the rise of Reels and short-form content, is that film editing is seen as something quick and straightforward. But proper film editing is a much more complex and nuanced process involving picture, sound, music, and effects, all working together to create the final cut. It’s a delicate balance of art and craft, instinct and thought. It’s about fine-tuning—knowing when to add a little of this and a little of that. That’s what editing really is. It’s a finely calibrated process that’s hard to fully explain without seeing it firsthand. One day, you should come by the studio, and I’ll show you what we do—or what we don’t do. It’s easier to demonstrate than describe.

First Act is a documentary that offers a unique lens to examine actors and the irony of the industry you have also been a part of. How was your experience of making this film? Did it come with its own set of challenges, keeping in mind that you had to stay detached from the subjects?

Yeah, I think that’s a really valid question because there was definitely some internal conflict. When you turn the camera on yourself or on your own industry, it’s uncomfortable because you turn the gaze on you. I’m part of this fraternity, part of this business. I’ve edited films and projects involving children, and there’s always this thought in the back of my mind: What did the child go through? So yes, examining the world I’m a part of sometimes felt unsettling, especially in this context. It was also emotionally draining, to be honest, because I saw certain things happening with certain children that I really didn’t want to see going in that direction. Even on offshoot days, I found myself constantly in dialogue with parents, counselling them because the show or the series was secondary for me. The real-life outcomes for these children mattered far more. I’d make Amole Gupte (filmmaker) have conversations with parents, or even I had conversations with them, I sometimes even showed them clips from people like Mukesh Chhabra, who would say things like, “You don’t need to put makeup on your child, just send natural pictures, keep them in sunlight, let them be themselves.” I always tried to fill those knowledge gaps, hoping the real-life impact would be positive and kind.

And in many cases, it worked. Some stories didn’t even make it into the final cut because people made sensible decisions, like choosing to focus on their child’s education or deciding not to pursue the industry at that moment. I found that really gratifying. We were also very mindful of how we portrayed things, keeping things as measured as we quoted. We could have shown a lot more, but in the interest of the children’s well-being, we chose to be more balanced and indicative rather than explanatory. We didn’t want to be too explicit or sensational; we wanted to give the audience enough to understand, which they do also without laying everything bare. It was important to strike that balance, which guided me throughout the process of handling this story.

Since you've edited many iconic projects, how important is the edit of a film? Is this different for fiction and non-fiction?

It's far, far harder in nonfiction. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. In fiction, you at least have a script—a starting point. You know what the scene is, and the film is shot to match that scene. But in non fiction, the story constantly evolves, shaping itself every day. In that sense, the role of the editor becomes absolutely crucial. The editor in nonfiction has a very definitive, transformative role. That’s one of the biggest differences between the two forms.

Editing can make or break a film. I've often stepped in as a consulting editor on projects where things weren’t quite working for various reasons, and you realize just how much skill and artistry is involved. The editor’s choices can completely change the trajectory of a film. There are so many films I don't want to name them. Just recently, I saw something where people heavily criticised the film, but from my perspective, it was clearly an editing issue. If that had been fixed, the entire film would have been transformed. So, yes, I put a lot of value on the skills of editors. They have immense power in shaping or reshaping a narrative, and their role is often underestimated.

Out of everything you've worked on, which one has been your favourite or most memorable project and why?

Both Rock On and Kai Po Che, which I edited for Abhishek Kapoor, are incredibly dear to me. I absolutely love cutting music, and Rock On allowed me to edit those concert sequences and work on that kind of scale, which was thrilling. Everyone was on the same page when we were putting that film together, and it was a great collaborative experience. It was more of a challenge with Kai Po Che because it dealt with a political subject—riots and ideologies—within a mainstream framework, which was both unique and tricky. Not many films on such topics had succeeded at the time, so making it work was incredibly rewarding. Both of these films hold a very special place in my heart.

I also have a soft spot for Stanley Ka Dabba, partly because it was directed by my husband, Amole, and my son was in it, but also because it was one of the hardest films I’ve ever edited. Amole shot it over multiple Saturdays, with only four hours of footage. Sometimes, I would get shots of the children but not the teacher, and the teacher’s angle wouldn’t come until the following week. I had to piece it together in such a way that the narrative flowed smoothly despite the fragmented shoot. It was eclectic and challenging, and I think I grew a lot as an editor through that experience. So these three films of course, are very dear to me. But everything that I've done is something that I have thoroughly enjoyed. I also fondly remember working on Raees and My Name is Khan. Because I enjoy the challenge of big scale and both of these films were set up on such a grand scale, they gave me a chance, and I loved handling big, ambitious projects like these. I’ve also really enjoyed cutting the much-talked-about Honey Singh documentary, which should hopefully be out by the end of this year. It was a challenging project, but I’m excited about how it’s turned out. Another recent project, Agni, for Rahul Dholakia, which focuses on firefighters - it was equally fascinating to work on. Overall, I’ve had very few bad experiences with editing. I approach every project with complete belief and conviction, which is why I’ve loved everything I’ve worked on so far.

What does this opportunity by BAFTA mean to you? Do you think that it will bring about change?

Yes, there's a lot of potential if the people in this cohort are capable. Looking at the group, I see that they’re an extremely talented bunch. Putting myself aside, just consider the talent within the cohort; it’s impressive. Many times, it’s just about waiting for that break. Making films for India is one thing, but stepping onto the international playing field is an entirely different experience. It’s massive. Take a filmmaker like Asif Kapadia. Look at his body of work—he’s operating on an international level, creating absolutely phenomenal documentaries. If you have something suitable and you're ready for that big stage, then an opportunity like BAFTA’s Breakthrough can be game-changing. It’s like they say: luck is simply the moment when opportunity meets preparation. If you’ve worked for it and you’re ready, it can completely change your career trajectory.

Every opportunity is what you make of it. You see people going to the same institutions—like NYU or USC—some end up making films, some don’t. It’s about the initiatives we take to push our own boundaries and limits. And there’s certainly enough talent in this cohort to do that. The interaction and dialogue with technicians and artists from the West create a fantastic bridge. I’m very optimistic that this exchange will bring something meaningful and dynamic over time. It’s been four or five years now, and I really believe people will break through. It’s a fantastic chance for those who get it, and I’m excited to see what comes of it.

For more interviews, follow us on @socialketchupbinge.