Aakash Subramaniam Chooses ZEISS Supreme Primes and Nano Primes to Lens Short Film “Our Weird Selves”

Tell us about your background. What led you to cinematography?

Aakash Subramaniam, WICA: I’m a cinematographer based in Mumbai. Before doing my master’s, I worked in Bollywood for two years, then moved to the US to study at the New York Film Academy. During my time in the US, I had the opportunity to collaborate with ZEISS and Sony through my thesis film and student projects, learned about American culture, and grew significantly as a filmmaker. Now I’m back in India, a member of the Western India Cinematographers Association and a student member of the Society of Camera Operators. I’m doing a lot of commercial work to start, but the narrative market here is booming. It’s an exciting time to be back.

What drew you to photography and filmmaking originally?

I wanted to be an engineer originally. Then my mom gave me a camera and said, engineering can be done later, why don’t you try this? While I was taking pictures, I came across this quote by Andy Warhol: “The best thing about a picture is that it never changes, even when the people in it do.” That set me on the path. My first camera was a Sony HX400V with a Carl Zeiss lens, and there we go — everything started from there.

I used to paint, and one of the first things that would strike me in a painting, or even in people, was texture. I carried that into photography. I would find details and textures in images the same way I did when I painted. That's something I never want to shy away from, whether it's the grittiness or the most beautiful kind.

Tell us about Our Weird Selves. What is the film about?

To me, the film explores what it means to relive a painful memory while still trying to honor someone you loved, especially when the relationship wasn’t simple. It’s about how memory is shaped by emotion — and how difficult it is to stay completely truthful to something when you’re still processing it.

What’s interesting is how we arrived at the tone for the film. Every time we wrote the script, it came out deeply sad, to the point where the director (Marco Felipe) and I kept crying over it. At one point we said, wait — if this was your last moment on earth, would you really want to spend it crying? Or would you want to laugh and cherish the moments of your life? That’s when we made the shift. If this is someone’s last moment in this world, they should go out in a happy way.

How did your role as cinematographer shape the storytelling?

I’m not a DP who starts with lenses and lights. The first conversation I have with any director is about the story and how I can best serve it. Beautiful images are a byproduct of a good story. On this film my first conversation with the director was about what this relationship means and what holding on or letting go feels like. That’s where the foundation of everything else came from.

What was your visual approach? What were you going for?

The biggest thing I was concerned with was portraying honesty — the characters’ honesty. I didn’t want the film to feel artificial or overly designed, because that would take away from the vulnerability of my characters. It became important to me that they feel recognized, to find a way to capture them that feels unfiltered and emotionally true.

At the same time, the world needed to feel like a memory — carefully put together, almost like a perfect preserved moment for the characters. My role was to balance that: something that feels like a visual memory but is also grounded in reality. That tension runs through the film.

There’s also a purposeful contrast between how I shot the two characters. In scenes where Bridget is present, the director and I worked closely with the production designer to make the backgrounds feel gloomy and slightly softer, allowing Bridget to blend into the world around her.

Wherever Charles is alone, it’s darker, more contrasty. He’s separated. He feels the grunge of it because ultimately the story is about him remembering her. Is the memory true? Is it biased? That’s where the ZEISS lenses also came into place.

Tell us about the lens test. How did you land on the ZEISS Supreme Primes?

I wanted a lens that could honestly tell what I wanted from it. I didn’t want anything that would soften my image or add a color bias. For this film, it was really important to capture my actors in their rawest form: the skin texture, the imperfections, the details that make them real. So during the lens test, I called the actor and said, do your makeup so you look real — the way you feel on your best natural day. That’s all I want.

We tested Tokina Primes, Cookes, and the Supreme Primes. When I put on the Supremes, the director tapped me on the shoulder and said, “This is the lens I want to shoot with. That’s it. No other lens.” What stood out immediately was how well it held detail without feeling clinical — which was very important to me. The close focus allowed me to get very intimate with the actors without losing any key features or detail, especially skin texture. The lens felt less like it was shaping an image, and more like it was allowing me to see the world the way I really see it.

How did you divide the two lenses across the film?

The Supreme Primes were our driving agent throughout the film. Wherever both characters appear together in the diner, that’s the Supremes — the director fell in love with that lens and we used it to guide us through the story of a memory, especially in the wider shots.

The Nano Primes I used for Charles alone — the extreme detail shots of his lips, his eyes, and the shot above him when he’s praying. I had tested the Supremes about three weeks before I tested the Nanos, but when I put on the Nanos I realized: this lens is exactly a replica of its elder sister. It felt like the observer I wanted it to be. The Nanos felt a tad sharper — which is exactly what I wanted.

We had a four-lens Supreme Prime kit and an entire six-lens Nano Prime set. The tighter focal lengths gave me incredible close focus — despite being long lenses, I could put the actors right there and get every detail. I was so impressed by that.

How did the lenses perform when pushed hard — wide open or with additional optics?

I was so surprised how well the ZEISS lenses perform wide open. I’ve shot with other lenses that don’t perform exceptionally well at maximum aperture — despite what they advertise. When I saw T1.5, I honestly asked myself: will I be able to shoot at 1.5? To my surprise, it performed extremely well. I shot about 30 percent of this film at 1.5, and my first AC did not hate me for it. He also fell in love with the lens.

I also added a diopter — a diopter 2 — on the scene where Bridget whispers in Charles’ ear, and on one of the panning shots. We were shooting at T2 on a 25mm with the diopter in place, and I thought everything would be a blur. Instead, everything was in focus. I didn’t lose the actor’s skin tone. I didn’t lose the textures. It worked out beautifully.

You mentioned skin texture specifically. Why is it so important to you as a storytelling element?

If I hide texture, I think you lose touch with the subject. Whether it’s the grittiness or beauty, texture is where reality lives. A lot of people shy away from it. I never want to.

In this film, the characters’ lives are a little bit of a mess. Getting that close to them — seeing the imperfections — feels right. It makes them fair and intimate. I wanted the audience to feel like they were truly with these people, not watching them from a safe distance. The ZEISS lenses gave me that. The close focus especially allowed me to be very intimate with the actors without losing any of the key features or detail that makes them human.

Tell us about a specific shot where the lenses made a difference.

The final scene where the characters open up emotionally — the continuous panning shot between them — is probably my core shot in the film. Shooting wide open, I was able to capture their subtle expressions without losing any texture. That moment visually deepens the audience’s connection to the characters, while solidifying the core memory that the whole film takes place inside.

What made it special is that for the last take, my director said: “No cues. All yours. Take it.” So I decided on the fly: when Bridget speaks, I’m going to start moving the camera away from her toward Charles. And when Charles speaks, I’ll move away from him. Because I really just want to hear them talk — I don’t need to see them talk. It’s a memory. And in those subtle moments of connection, I put the camera right in the middle. Because that’s what love is to me. Everything in the middle, between two people.

What is your philosophy when selecting lenses for a project?

A few things I ask every time: Is this lens giving me the real textures I want? Is it letting me tell the story in the truest form — in terms of sharpness, color, skin tones, texture? Is the focal length related to how me and the director have seen the world? Is it adding a bias? That’s something I don’t prefer, but if the story wants it, then yes let’s lean in.

But the best way to look at a lens is: how true is it to the image the director visualizes? That’s the lens I want to shoot with. And that’s exactly where ZEISS helped me. I wasn’t looking for a lens that had personality for the sake of it. I was looking for something that lets me observe truthfully.