How the cinematic language of capturing rain has evolved in advertising

The first petrichor-laced breeze that sweeps across the parched plains of India doesn’t just signal a change in weather; it brings a shift in the collective consciousness. The monsoon is more than a meteorological event; it holds cultural significance, serving as a muse for poets, a vital force in agriculture, and a deeply ingrained protagonist in the nation's story. From the ancient verses of Kalidasa’s ‘Meghaduta’, where a cloud becomes a messenger for a pining lover, to the joyous chaos of children launching paper boats, the rains are a canvas for the entire spectrum of human emotion.

In the world of filmmaking and advertising, this canvas is both an irresistible opportunity and a logistical minefield. Taj Mahal Tea and Brooke Bond Red Label have used the thematic elements of rain and its essence and woven them into the fabrics of their campaigns to great effect. 

The monsoon is the ultimate wild card, capable of infusing a scene with unparalleled drama, romance, or melancholy. But it can also be, as Joyeeta Patpatia, Director, Creature Film Company puts it, “one of the most unwelcome natural elements in film!” This duality lies at the heart of rainy-season storytelling. How do creative teams harness the raw power of a downpour to tell a compelling story? How do they navigate the technical ballet of capturing an element that is famously difficult to film? And how has our on-screen relationship with rain evolved from the days of romantic chiffon sarees to the gritty, atmospheric realism of modern cinema? 

Rain as a protagonist

For the most discerning storytellers, rain is never just a visual effect sprinkled on in post-production. It’s an active, breathing entity with its own personality and purpose. It’s a character.

“Rain is never just atmosphere to me - it's emotion. It's a presence,” says freelance Ad Director Sonal Batra. “Almost like a character with its own agenda, its own mood. It can be joy, longing, tension, romance, or even rage depending entirely on what the story needs.” This perspective is the philosophical bedrock of effective rain sequences. When rain is treated as a participant, it transforms the entire creative process. It’s no longer a question of if it should rain, but how the rain feels about the events unfolding.

Batra elaborates with a powerful analogy: “A farmer during drought will look at the first drops of rain with gratitude and relief. The same farmer during harvest season might see that same rain as threat, even ruin. Rain is contextual.”

This idea of rain as a contextual mirror is echoed by Mukti Krishan, an Independent Ad Filmmaker. “Rain is not just atmosphere, it’s a presence, a mood, sometimes even a mirror,” she reflects. “I’m drawn to how it creates both distance and closeness, how it can isolate someone or draw two people together without a word.”

When rain graduates from backdrop to character, it dictates the very mechanics of a scene. “It affects everything from blocking to how a scene is lit,” Krishan explains. Actors are no longer just performing in the rain; they are reacting to it. Their movements become hesitant or liberated, their touch gentle or urgent. As Batra notes, “the actor’s performance shifts because now they’re engaging with the rain, not just performing in it.” This intimate, often unspoken, dialogue between actor and element is what creates moments of profound authenticity, where a single raindrop tracing a path down a cheek can convey more than a page of dialogue.

Think of how Crocs used rain as not just a backdrop for its 'Splash of Style' campaign, but encapsulated every aspect of the season in its mise en scène and how it relates to its product. 

The art and science of a downpour

Capturing this emotional weight is a formidable technical challenge. Rain, by its nature, is transparent and fast-moving, making it notoriously difficult to see on camera. Furthermore, the reality of a shoot often clashes with the whims of nature.

“We love what rain does on screen, but not naturally!” admits Patpatia. The unpredictability of natural monsoons can wreak havoc on tight schedules and expensive equipment. “Live sound becomes problematic, expensive camera equipment can get damaged and it causes delays that can be expensive on production,” she says. “Advertising contracts always include a rain clause.”

This is why, paradoxically, many on-screen monsoons are meticulously manufactured. “There’s an entire special effects team that is dedicated to only creating different kinds of rain,” Patpatia reveals. “All kinds of slants, pressure, size of the raindrops etc. as per what the scene demands.” This control allows filmmakers to craft the rain to fit the narrative, rather than the other way around.

Whether real or created, making rain visible is an art form. “It’s very easy to miss our opaque friend,” quips Batra. “Rain is invisible unless lit just right.” The key, agreed upon by all the experts, is backlighting. “I’ll often use backlight or sidelight to catch the droplets,” says Krishan. Batra concurs, “Lighting is everything—without it, your rain disappears, especially on wide shots.”

The choice of lens and shutter speed further refines the rain’s personality. “A fast shutter captures each droplet like frozen pearls - it’s dramatic & sharp,” Batra explains. “A slower shutter lets the rain streak, which can feel more dreamy or chaotic.” Krishan uses these techniques to manipulate the feeling of the downpour: “longer lenses to compress space and make the rain feel heavy, almost claustrophobic. Sometimes I slow the shutter for weight.”

This technical mastery is often deployed to build a specific mood or brand identity. For the launch of the Mahindra Scorpio-N, rain was not just an aesthetic choice but a strategic one. “When we were launching Mahindra ScorpioN as The Big Daddy of SUV, Bob (Good Morning Films) suggested we use rain to add drama,” recalls Suyash Khabya, CCO at The Womb. The resulting ad is a masterclass in atmospheric tension, using dark, intense visuals of the vehicle powering through a relentless downpour. “In the film, you can see the impact rain has made,” Khabya says. “You can feel that something powerful is being born.” Here, the rain isn’t just dramatic; it’s a signifier of ruggedness, power, and resilience, embedding those qualities into the product’s DNA.

Painting with raindrops and scoring the silence

Beyond the visual mechanics, the true emotional impact of a monsoon scene is sculpted by its colour and sound. Rain has a transformative effect on the world’s palette, a quality creatives can either fight against or embrace.

“Rain naturally desaturates the world. Colours get muted, the sky flattens, and the landscape starts to blend,” says Batra. The director’s choice is crucial: lean into this muted world for introspection or inject deliberate colour to create contrast. “For urban or nighttime rain, I often push subtle blues or greens in the grade. That cool wash adds mood, introspection, even a quiet melancholy,” she explains. Krishan agrees, noting that “cooler tones help hold silence.”

Conversely, to evoke warmth, joy, or romance, the palette is intentionally fought. “I recommend warm tones, soft yellows, dusky oranges mixed with pinks,” Batra suggests. “Those hues pop beautifully against wet skin, especially under diffused overcast light.” Costumes and props become critical tools. A bright umbrella, a colourful raincoat, or as Batra vividly puts it, “A coral red kurta clinging to someone in the rain can often say more than any spoken line.”

Texture becomes a language in itself. Mukti Krishan builds her visual narrative with “soaked cotton, shiny plastic, reflective glass, rusted metal,” creating a tactile world that the viewer can almost feel.

This sensory experience is completed by the soundscape. In a world saturated with musical scores, there’s a growing appreciation for the inherent music of the rain itself. “Rain already brings its own score,” says Krishan. “Often I dial back the music and let those textures do the emotional work—water hitting leaves, tin, skin, the hush of a world that’s slowed down.”

Sonal Batra shares this philosophy of restraint. “Rain has its own rhythm and density. It can carry a scene on its own,” she asserts. “I often let the rain be the score—especially in emotional or intimate moments.” When music is introduced, it’s with a light touch. “It’s minimal,” says Krishan, “often built on the rhythm the rain has already set.” The goal is harmony, not a battle for auditory dominance. As Batra warns, “Thunder or dramatic cues can backfire if they don’t match the mood.”

From chiffon sarees to cinematic grit

The depiction of rain in Indian media has undergone a dramatic evolution. For decades, Bollywood’s monsoon was synonymous with romance and sensuality. The iconic image of Raj Kapoor and Nargis huddled under a single umbrella in Shree 420's "Pyaar Hua Ikraar Hua" turned the rain into the ultimate matchmaker. Later, it became a vehicle for veiled passion, with the drenched chiffon saree becoming a trope in itself, famously exemplified by Sridevi in Mr. India’s "Kaate Nahin Kat Te."

While these moments are etched in cinematic history, the modern storyteller wields rain with far more nuance. The focus has shifted from pure spectacle to psychological depth. Today, rain is just as likely to symbolise a harsh reality check, as seen in the devastating flood in Parasite, or a moment of quiet, cathartic release, like Andy Dufresne’s triumphant escape in The Shawshank Redemption. 

This evolution reflects a maturing creative sensibility and a willingness to embrace imperfection. The logistical nightmares of shooting in the rain are now often seen as opportunities for serendipity. “Unplanned rain though? That’s where you pivot or perish,” says Batra, recounting an ad shoot where a sudden downpour transformed a simple scene into a “quirky, heightened one.” Her advice is to “stay flexible and embrace what nature throws at you.”

This adaptability is a hard-won lesson. “Rain shoots are unpredictable—budgets, timing, weather all misbehave,” admits Krishan. “I’ve learned to adapt. Sometimes a drizzle does more than a downpour.” Her ultimate philosophy is one of creative surrender. “The truth is, when I let go of control and trust the feeling I’m chasing, the rain usually finds its place.”

From a carefully controlled studio downpour designed to evoke power, to a spontaneous shower that adds unexpected magic, the art of monsoon storytelling is evolving between meticulous planning and beautiful chaos. It is a marker of the enduring power of nature as a narrative force.