The interview which appears below was originally published in Nasreen Munni Kabir's book, A.R. Rahman: The Spirit of Music. ©The rights to this material are reserved to the owner. If you have any concerns or comments, please send an email to info@rahmaniac.com.
NMK: Tell me about the Pussycat Dolls version.
ARR: Jimmy Iovine of Interscope Records heard the soundtrack of Slumdog Millionaire. He liked it very much and bought the film’s music rights. Interscope Records is Lady Gaga’s label too. It was Jimmy’s idea to make a Pussycat Dolls version. At that time, it didn’t seem like a great idea, but then I felt in the long run it might extend the life of the song. It worked well in its own way.
I remember when we were making the music video, the director was in Italy and he directed me on Skype. I was standing on a treadmill against a blue screen. [both laugh]
NMK: Can you talk us through the process of what happens once you’ve agreed to compose music for an Indian film?
ARR: The director narrates the story to me. The songs are already part of the screenplay. That’s when I discover at what point the songs will take place in the story. The directors decide that and I trust them. Some get it right and others don’t.
In India, the story is narrated by the director because we don’t always get a bound script. When I hear the story I might get a general idea of the music that could fit. Though I may end up doing the opposite of what I had first imagined I would do.
The idea is to try and avoid the predictable in music and in film.
NMK: How do you do that?
ARR: There are times when I’ve suggested to directors that I’d like to be involved in how a song is used in the story. Discussing things helps to avoid clichéd film situations. We’ve got to avoid repeating song situations that have come thousands of times before. See how music can be composed and used in an imaginative and fresh way. Sure you need a love song, but can we find a way of making the tune or the situation different?
As I told you, I write tunes in my own time. So I might play one of those tunes to the director and because that tune wasn’t written to a brief, there’s a chance it may bring freshness to the scene. If the director likes the tune, then he’ll use it, even if it wasn’t part of the original planning of the film. This only happens if the song is outstanding. Some changes are made so it will fit into the story.
This is what happened with the song “Rehna tu” in Delhi 6 [2009]. The director, Rakeysh Mehra, heard the tune and liked it. We didn’t actually need the song — it came as an afterthought. But I believed it could be an important song and put a lot of energy into convincing the lyricist Prasoon Joshi and Rakeysh to use it. It took some doing.
“Rehna tu” ended up as a background song in a scene in which the hero is driving down the streets of Delhi.
NMK: Why did you believe it would add something to the film?
ARR: Delhi 6 is a story about a young man who has a Hindu father and a Muslim mother. He belongs to both communities and isn’t accepted in either. The words “Rehna tu hai jaisa tu” [Stay as you are] are about accepting the young hero as he is. At the same time, the song words could describe attitudes we might have towards a neighbor, mother or father — it’s all about learning how to accept people as they are. The song wasn’t an instant hit, but after a while people started liking it. It also became a popular ringtone in India.
NMK: How closely should the song and scene match?
ARR: If a director shoots the song in a traditional way, I’d look a fool if the music doesn’t work with the visuals. It’s a marriage. The music won’t gel if it’s too modern and urban and the visuals are traditional or rural.
It’s also good to go against the narrative. Not repeat in the song what the dialogue has already said. When we were working on Rang de Basanti [2006], I asked Rakeysh Mehra: “In the death scene, can we not talk about liberation, redemption and freedom? Take a more surreal approach.”
In Rang de Basanti, Madhavan plays an Air Force pilot who dies in a plane crash. Instead of a big emotional song for the scene in which the pilot’s mother [played by Waheeda Rehman] learns that her son has died, so I suggested we have a lullaby here and we wrote “Luka chuppi.” Through the song words, the son assures his mother that he is well and at peace and is away from all the suffering.
I remember everyone reacted negatively to the idea, but Rakeysh said: “No, go ahead. Do it.” I figured if the song wasn’t used in the film, we could use it in the album. So the great Lata Mangeshkar and I recorded the duet. Rakeysh finally ended up using it in the film. I heard that “Luka chuppi” made people cry.
NMK: It wasn’t stating the obvious. The song isn’t about the desperate feelings of the pilot’s mother, or the rage that the screen characters feel about their friend dying through no fault of his own.
ARR: Exactly. We didn’t want the music or the song to match the mood of the scene.
In Rang de Basanti, we tried new methods of working. We recorded the entire dialogue, inserting every song and bit of music where they were supposed to come. We then listened to the three-hour tape in a workshop to see if the story and music worked together.
When the film was about to be completed, I was stuck for the last big musical moment, so we heard the workshop recording again and found the solution.
NMK: It sounds like the method that theatre people often use in the West.
ARR: Yes. That’s how we worked in London on the stage production of The Lord of the Rings, and that gave me the idea of trying out this method in Rang de Basanti.
