I enjoyed everyday of traveling outside Bombay, but I couldn’t help but feel homesick for it, which may seem strange since I lived there for a mere four months.
Needless to say, I was excited to return. I am always surprised when I meet travelers who tell me how much they loath Bombay, or how they darted out of the city as quickly as they flew into it. Granted, the city can be overwhelming, but with a second look the same factors that may initially seem suffocating turn out to be endless options and an awe-inspiring vitality.
Luckily, Elsie was just as excited to see the city or the first time as I was to return. We vowed to go out every night in attempt to stretch out the days and pull at the corners of the night to see the hours that many don’t know exist.
Late nights on marine drive, at parties, and on rooftops were matched with groggy days that result from 3 hours of sleep, kicking back coffees while watching the monsoon flood the streets, and running through markets and museums on nothing but adrenaline.
As is the case with living in a new city, I put a few touristy experiences on the back burner thinking “I’ll get to them eventually” but perhaps never would have if it wasn’t for traveling with someone who was seeing the city or the first time.
One of the things Elsie was dying to do was be in a Bollywood film. Extras are scouted everyday on Causeway, and I always had the excuse of an early morning at college or work to not go. This time there were no excuses, so I decided to join her. I have heard many tales of bad experiences acting in Bollywood films as a foreigner, that include being left in the trailer all day, or never getting paid. Though of course a foreigner never getting paid isn’t so tragic, since the gig pays only 500 rupees, about $10.
We went ahead with it and were told the day would be spent as extras in a club scene, which essentially meant dancing all day—sounded pretty great.
The set was in the suburbs, more specifically Andheri, and after getting off of the bus we were welcomed with breakfast, and given a few minutes to mingle before being rushed off to the costume room, which basically meant having a couple of men throw clothes at us that they thought may fit and the girls gasping at how little they were expected to wear.
It took six costume changes before I begrudgingly went on set. The first five must have been made for girls who were half a foot shorter than me.
I wanted to look out for Bollywood actors that I might recognize, but I realized that this was going to be difficult since I could count all the ones I might recognize on one hand. After entering the club with my “boyfriend,” one of the leads came on set and the director yelled cut, giving me a moment to release my excitement.
He was one of the main characters from the Bollywood film I had watched on my last flight, which had also garnered some international acclaim.
“Hey! You’re in 3 Idiots, right?”
“Yeah, that was a great movie.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being funny, or just felt that strongly about his own work. I awkwardly laughed it off.
“Unlike this movie. It’s total shit.”
“Really?!” I asked.
“No, it’ll be good. It’s like an Indian version of the Italian Job.”
In the following scene as the same actor, Omi Vaidya, went to enter the club and the door handle popped right off. He turned around to a couple of foreign extras, “Welcome to Bollywood.”
I wondered if instances like that, including water leaks in the ceiling and costumes falling apart part way through scenes also happened in Hollywood.
Wanting to be able to pick ourselves out in the film in 6 months, Elsie and I decided to tear up the dance floor to try to get some camera time. Unfortunately that may have been the reason we barely got a chance to sit out a scene on that exhausting 13 hour day.
The shots got more and more ridiculous as we and others tried to see how much we could get away with on set—from fist pumping, to subtle dance offs and outrageous gestures. The shooting should have ended at about 8 p.m., but by 9:30 it began to eat away at our night and I was getting grumpy. I asked one of the directors if we were going to be able to go home soon, and if we could get paid more.
The first answer was a lie: “Yes”. And the second was an obvious and much expected “No.”
Once we were finally taken back on the bus and released into the streets of Colaba it was 11:30 p.m. Our night was just beginning and our earnings were spent much more quickly than they were earned.
Players comes out December 23rd 2011
Needless to say, I was excited to return. I am always surprised when I meet travelers who tell me how much they loath Bombay, or how they darted out of the city as quickly as they flew into it. Granted, the city can be overwhelming, but with a second look the same factors that may initially seem suffocating turn out to be endless options and an awe-inspiring vitality.
Luckily, Elsie was just as excited to see the city or the first time as I was to return. We vowed to go out every night in attempt to stretch out the days and pull at the corners of the night to see the hours that many don’t know exist.
Late nights on marine drive, at parties, and on rooftops were matched with groggy days that result from 3 hours of sleep, kicking back coffees while watching the monsoon flood the streets, and running through markets and museums on nothing but adrenaline.
As is the case with living in a new city, I put a few touristy experiences on the back burner thinking “I’ll get to them eventually” but perhaps never would have if it wasn’t for traveling with someone who was seeing the city or the first time.
One of the things Elsie was dying to do was be in a Bollywood film. Extras are scouted everyday on Causeway, and I always had the excuse of an early morning at college or work to not go. This time there were no excuses, so I decided to join her. I have heard many tales of bad experiences acting in Bollywood films as a foreigner, that include being left in the trailer all day, or never getting paid. Though of course a foreigner never getting paid isn’t so tragic, since the gig pays only 500 rupees, about $10.
We went ahead with it and were told the day would be spent as extras in a club scene, which essentially meant dancing all day—sounded pretty great.
The set was in the suburbs, more specifically Andheri, and after getting off of the bus we were welcomed with breakfast, and given a few minutes to mingle before being rushed off to the costume room, which basically meant having a couple of men throw clothes at us that they thought may fit and the girls gasping at how little they were expected to wear.
It took six costume changes before I begrudgingly went on set. The first five must have been made for girls who were half a foot shorter than me.
I wanted to look out for Bollywood actors that I might recognize, but I realized that this was going to be difficult since I could count all the ones I might recognize on one hand. After entering the club with my “boyfriend,” one of the leads came on set and the director yelled cut, giving me a moment to release my excitement.
He was one of the main characters from the Bollywood film I had watched on my last flight, which had also garnered some international acclaim.
“Hey! You’re in 3 Idiots, right?”
“Yeah, that was a great movie.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being funny, or just felt that strongly about his own work. I awkwardly laughed it off.
“Unlike this movie. It’s total shit.”
“Really?!” I asked.
“No, it’ll be good. It’s like an Indian version of the Italian Job.”
In the following scene as the same actor, Omi Vaidya, went to enter the club and the door handle popped right off. He turned around to a couple of foreign extras, “Welcome to Bollywood.”
I wondered if instances like that, including water leaks in the ceiling and costumes falling apart part way through scenes also happened in Hollywood.
Wanting to be able to pick ourselves out in the film in 6 months, Elsie and I decided to tear up the dance floor to try to get some camera time. Unfortunately that may have been the reason we barely got a chance to sit out a scene on that exhausting 13 hour day.
The shots got more and more ridiculous as we and others tried to see how much we could get away with on set—from fist pumping, to subtle dance offs and outrageous gestures. The shooting should have ended at about 8 p.m., but by 9:30 it began to eat away at our night and I was getting grumpy. I asked one of the directors if we were going to be able to go home soon, and if we could get paid more.
The first answer was a lie: “Yes”. And the second was an obvious and much expected “No.”
Once we were finally taken back on the bus and released into the streets of Colaba it was 11:30 p.m. Our night was just beginning and our earnings were spent much more quickly than they were earned.
Players comes out December 23rd 2011
what is the movie called?
ReplyDeleteIt's called Players
ReplyDelete