Are Mumbai's Neighbourhoods Turning Into Sets for Influencers? The Curious Case of Bandra's Ranwar Village

Last week, a sign appeared on a quiet lane in Mumbai’s Ranwar Village: ‘No photography, modelling, video recording.’ 

Within hours, it had spread across Instagram Reels, WhatsApp forwards and X threads. The police later removed the board because it had cited them without authorisation, but by then the argument had already outgrown the neighbourhood. 

A Mid-day headline asked: ‘Whose Bandra is it?’ The residents who live there? The brands that monetise it? Or the creators whose livelihoods depend on turning them into backdrops? 

The answer, today, seems to depend on who is holding the camera. 

For traditional film and advertising shoots, at least, there is an established, however imperfect, system.

“When we shoot on the road — whether for a film or a commercial — we take BMC permissions and police permissions from the Commissioner’s office,” says executive producer Aditya Joshi of Yellow Elephant Productions, after wrapping a long day on an OTT series. “But along with that, you also need approval from the local police station. Normally, that is something that happens under the table.” 

Within the industry, the unofficial economy around permissions is an open secret. Producers say the cost of filming in South Mumbai often balloons because informal payments are layered onto formal fees. “It comes to around ₹3.5 lakh in total,” Joshi says. “The official permission might be ₹90,000, but there’s another ₹2 lakh going under the table here and there.” 

Big-budget productions absorb these costs as part of doing business. For independent creators and smaller teams, though, the system becomes far harder to navigate.

The Legal Grey Zone 

Entertainment lawyer Priyanka Khimani says India still lacks a creator-specific regulatory framework. Existing municipal laws were drafted for films and advertising productions, long before influencer marketing transformed public spaces into monetisable assets. 

Under the Mumbai Municipal Corporation Act, 1888, she explains, all commercial shoots on municipal roads, footpaths or private property require a filming permit, a police NOC from local and traffic police, and the property owner's permission where applicable. The grey area is whether this extends to a creator filming a monetised Reel or brand collaboration in neighbourhoods, like Ranwar Village in this case. 

Khimani adds, “Influencer shoots currently occupy a hybrid space,” she explains. “They are not formally categorised as ‘film shoots’ in every instance, but in practice they can attract comparable legal obligations where the activity becomes organised and commercial in nature.” 

The ambiguity grows further once money enters the equation. “If content is created pursuant to a brand partnership, or an endorsement agreement, it moves beyond purely personal expression and is categorised as commercial communication,” Khimani says.  

She considers one possible regulatory approach for authorities which involves evaluating the nature, scale and commercial character of the activity itself, rather than focusing on the type of equipment used or the digital platform on which the content is ultimately published. A coordinated influencer campaign involving location planning, crew members, repeated takes, lighting set-ups, or public obstruction may be treated similarly to a commercial ad shoot, even if the final content is uploaded to Instagram or YouTube instead of television. 

That commercialisation also potentially exposes brands to liability. “Brands cannot entirely distance themselves from the conduct of creators acting on their behalf in a commercial arrangement,” Khimani notes, particularly in cases involving unauthorised filming, municipal violations or public obstruction. 

Increasingly, larger brands attempt to reduce this risk through detailed influencer contracts that require creators to secure permissions and comply with local laws. Some agreements also indemnify brands against legal claims arising from violations. 

Liability becomes even more complicated in public spaces. If branded content is filmed illegally in protected zones or heritage sites, or depicts unlawful acts, both the creator and the brand could potentially be held responsible, depending on the circumstances and the terms of their agreement.

Living in the Reel World 

But regulation alone cannot explain the growing resentment within neighbourhoods like Ranwar Village. For longtime residents, the issue is less about legality than exhaustion. 

Clint Fernandes, who has lived in Ranwar Village his entire life, traces the escalation to the rise of Instagram-friendly cafés and viral aesthetics. “It started with Mary Lodge by Subko in the narrow gali. Then came Veronica’s and the Bollywood graffiti,” he says. 

What was once a quiet residential pocket slowly transformed into an unofficial outdoor studio for creators. Asked whether the neighbourhood now feels treated more like a set than a home, Fernandes replies immediately, “Absolutely.” 

Joshi points out that creators could theoretically shoot in Mumbai’s Film City, but those sets are expensive, heavily booked and often inaccessible without industry connections, something many independent creators simply do not have. 

Fernandes’ frustration is not directed solely at influencers. As a make-up artist, he works with creators himself and understands the pressures of visibility. What frustrates him more is the fixation — from audiences, brands and creators alike — on a handful of “cool” Mumbai locations. 

The problem, he says, is cumulative. “Yes, the content creator will come with a photographer and a videographer,” Fernandes says. “But imagine that multiplied by 50.” 

He remembers actors like Jackie Shroff, Anil Kapoor and Govinda shooting films in Ranwar Village during the 1980s, when children from the neighbourhood would run out for autographs. “But people got really upset and stopped it all,” he recalls. “They put a blanket ban on any kind of photography or film shoot and spoke to the BMC at that time.” 

Would charging creators a location fee reduce footfall? Fernandes thinks the opposite. Paying for access, he argues, creates entitlement — a dangerous dynamic in a residential neighbourhood. Instead, he asks for basic civic sense. Shoot during less crowded hours. Avoid blocking roads. Be respectful. 

That same frustration with public behaviour had earlier pushed Fernandes and several older residents to lobby for stricter parking rules in the area after restaurant valets repeatedly clogged the lanes. Eventually, ‘No Parking’ signs were installed, and at least one violator reportedly received a ₹1.28 lakh fine. 

Creators, meanwhile, often interpret such backlash as elitist gatekeeping over public space. 

Food content creator Sahil Makhija, better known as HeadbangerEats on Instagram, dismisses many restrictions as entitlement disguised as civic concern. “It is a free country. It is a public space,” he says. “Just shut your window if you have a problem.” 

For Makhija, the tension reflects Mumbai’s broader urban failures more than creators themselves. Restaurants, cafés and nightlife businesses transformed Bandra long before influencers arrived. “If you really want to make Ranwar less crowded, then make sure the MLAs remove the licenses and turn it into housing,” he says. 

“If you're just shooting on your phone, there's no law, as far as I know, that can stop you — unless it's a military area or if it says ‘Photography prohibited’.” 

Globally, cities facing overtourism and creator culture have already begun experimenting with restrictions. Photography is prohibited in parts of Japan’s Gion District and Goa’s Fontainhas, while residents in London’s Notting Hill reportedly repainted colourful facades black to discourage tourists.

A New World 

Yet creator content also powers a vast informal economy. The same ecosystem residents complain about generates jobs, advertising revenue and new forms of entrepreneurship. 

“We should be doing everything we can to encourage new creators from getting formed rather than putting more restrictive options their way,” Shrivastava argues.  

At the same time, the boom has intensified cost-cutting across the entertainment industry. Joshi describes a landscape where influencer-led productions increasingly replace traditional advertising shoots at a fraction of earlier budgets — savings that rarely benefit workers on set. Spot boys, assistants and technicians continue working punishing hours for shrinking wages. 

“A spot boy who earned ₹2,000 earlier is now getting ₹1,600,” Joshi says. “They are working the same 15 hours a day.” 

In traditional productions, those gaps are often managed through formal systems and specialised crews. Joshi points out that road shoots involving action sequences typically require medical staff, fire marshals and ambulances on standby. But all of that depends on budgets — something most creators simply do not have. 

He believes the industry now urgently needs formalisation and education. Many creators have spent years bootstrapping content independently and naturally continue using those methods even after entering commercial work. 

In that sense, the debate over Bandra’s lanes extends far beyond influencers dancing outside cafés. It reflects how India’s entertainment economy is being rebuilt — faster than laws, labour systems or cities can keep up with. Almost everyone agrees that some regulation is inevitable. Even creators and production houses acknowledge the need for clearer guidelines around permissions, consent and public disruption. The challenge is designing rules that recognise scale. 

A creator with a phone camera is not a 250-member Netflix production. And yet, increasingly, they belong to the same entertainment pipeline. Web creators who began on YouTube and Instagram are now developing mainstream streaming projects. Think Kota Factory (2019) or Dhindora (2021). 

Legally, the creator economy is not entirely unregulated. The Information Technology Act and Intermediary Guidelines govern the platforms hosting creator content. Consumer protection laws and ASCI guidelines regulate paid partnerships and misleading advertisements. But significant gaps remain — particularly around AI-generated infringement, copyright, personality rights and grievance redressal. 

What it likely needs is not an entirely new body of law, but a coordinated effort to identify where existing frameworks fail and update them accordingly. Until then, Mumbai’s streets will continue operating in negotiated chaos: residents complaining, creators filming, police intervening selectively, and brands quietly profiting throughout. 

The cameras are unlikely to disappear. The city will simply have to decide who gets to point them — and where.