2020 was the year that film productions stopped. From Hollywood blockbusters to indie projects, the cameras went dark as the world faced a global health crisis. But while the rest of the industry was on pause, Kuldeep Cariappa was getting ready to film the story of his career.
UNSEEN is a documentary unlike any other to come out of the COVID-19 pandemic, not just because of its subject matter but also because of the way it was made. Filmed across multiple states in India during some of the most restrictive lockdown measures in place, the film is a masterclass in pandemic filmmaking—both in terms of logistics and storytelling.
The idea of remote filmmaking is not entirely new, but the scale at which UNSEEN was produced makes it a logistical feat. Without the ability to travel to key locations—Kashmir, Assam, Mumbai—Cariappa had to rely on local crews, whom he directed virtually through video calls and collaborative apps.
“It was a challenge I had never faced before,” Cariappa admits. “The idea of trusting someone else with the camera, in situations I couldn’t even witness firsthand, was nerve-wracking. But it was the only way to tell these stories.”
What UNSEEN captures is a stunning blend of grounded, real-life imagery that does not shy away from the bleakness of the pandemic, paired with the technical precision that Cariappa is known for. Scenes of empty streets, abandoned marketplaces, and desolate homes were shot with haunting quietude—each frame filled with the weight of stories left untold.
What sets UNSEEN apart from other pandemic documentaries is the cinematic approach to its subjects. The film isn’t a rushed effort to capture footage in crisis; it’s meticulously crafted to highlight the emotional gravitas of each individual’s story. The camera doesn’t just observe; it lingers, allowing moments to stretch out, so the subjects have space to reveal their truths.
Take, for example, the sequences shot in Delhi’s riot-affected areas. Despite being filmed by a local crew, the footage is visceral, punctuated by long, pensive shots that offer viewers a glimpse of the survivors’ emotional state. “We wanted to show the slow pace of recovery—how these communities were rebuilding not just their homes but their lives,” Cariappa says.
Sound plays an equally crucial role in UNSEEN. Given the limitations of filming under lockdown, Cariappa and his sound team worked with a pared-back approach. “In many scenes, we had to make do with the natural soundscape—there was no time or resources for elaborate sound design,” Cariappa explains.
This scarcity becomes an advantage in UNSEEN. The natural sounds—the clatter of empty streets, the distant hum of machinery in a deserted factory, the chirping of birds amidst a gas leak disaster—serve to deepen the emotional impact. The sparse sound design underscores the isolation felt by those living through the lockdown, reminding viewers of the eerie stillness that pervaded much of the world during those months.
An integral aspect of UNSEEN is its narration, crafted by Kuldeep Cariappa and KavanaSrichandra. Kavana’s deep voice adds a compelling emotional layer to the film, striking a chord with the poignant situations depicted. The narration guides viewers through the stories, providing context and depth to the harrowing experiences faced by the subjects. “Kavana’s voice carries the weight of the emotions we wanted to portray,” Cariappa notes. “It enhances the storytelling and invites viewers to connect more deeply with the narratives.”
Another significant aspect of UNSEEN is its haunting score, composed by Abhaydev Praful. His work elevates the film’s emotional weight, seamlessly blending traditional Indian sounds with contemporary elements to create a soundscape that resonates with the film’s themes of loss and resilience.
Furthermore, the soundtrack features a poignant song by renowned Kashmiri singer and composer Irfan Bilal, whose music captures the beauty and complexity of Kashmir. Bilal’s soulful composition echoes the film’s exploration of beauty amidst despair, serving as a reminder that even in the darkest times, there is light to be found. His lyrical reflections on the region’s struggles create an emotional tapestry that complements Cariappa’s visuals.
The film’s poster, which features two children wearing face masks over their eyes, speaks volumes about its core message. The masks serve a dual purpose, symbolizing both the protective gear essential during the pandemic and the theme of invisibility that runs throughout the film. The image powerfully conveys the idea that many individuals and communities have been rendered “unseen” during the pandemic—hidden from view while grappling with their own struggles.
This visual representation not only encapsulates the essence of UNSEEN but also invites viewers to reflect on the broader implications of how society perceives and values different lives during times of crisis.
Technically, UNSEEN is a testament to the minimalist aesthetic. With limited crew sizes, the film relied heavily on handheld cameras and natural light to capture the raw, unfiltered nature of its subjects’ lives. “We didn’t have the luxury of a full production team, but that worked in our favor,” Cariappa says. “The minimal setup allowed us to be nimble and unobtrusive, which is essential when you’re filming such personal, sensitive stories.”
Post-production was a collaborative effort led by editor Vikram, who undertook multiple versions of the edit before finalizing the narrative that best conveyed the stories. “Vikram’s vision was crucial in shaping the film’s flow,” Cariappa notes.
Color grading was entrusted to Ganesh Mahabala, a skilled cinematographer who faced the challenge of harmonizing footage shot on various cameras. Initially, the first version of the film was graded in black and white, but after extensive discussions with Ganesh and Kuldeep, the decision was made to retain color. The extensive color grading aimed to match different footage, lighting conditions, locations, and geographies, creating a cohesive visual experience.
While UNSEEN may have been born out of necessity, its approach could signify the beginning of a new era in documentary filmmaking. The film demonstrates that even under the most challenging conditions, it’s possible to create meaningful, visually stunning work with minimal resources.
“The limitations actually pushed us to be more creative,” Cariappa reflects. “Sometimes, it’s when you have the least that you discover what you’re truly capable of.”
As the film festival circuit continues to embrace UNSEEN, it’s clear that Cariappa’s approach has struck a chord. Critics have praised its visual storytelling, its empathetic treatment of marginalized communities, and its innovative pandemic-era production techniques.
For filmmakers grappling with the challenges of an ever-evolving industry, UNSEEN stands as both a blueprint and an inspiration—a reminder that stories don’t stop for crises. Sometimes, crises are where the most important stories begin.