Mumbai

Evening gowns worn with hiking sandals and awkward movements: watch out, Europeans have been asked to take part in the shooting of a Bollywood movie. A field report from a Bollywood studio.

It is often said that the life of an actor or model is very boring, because they spend most of their time sitting around and waiting. It’s true. If you’ve ever worked as an extra on a Bollywood film, you’ll know that they are right. Each of the 23 tourists standing here in front of the McDonalds in Colaba this morning at eight was asked the day before, “Do you wanna be in a Bollywood movie?” We were told there would be money and food. Some were promised that they’d have their hair styled and face made up.

So, here we sit sweating in a bus. We are the globetrotters and seekers of truth, the India-inspired and Goa tourists. For most, Mumbai is merely a way station, for many the offer is tempting, not because of the meals or the 500 rupees, but for the chance to have a new experience, an experience that’s not listed in any of the tourist guides. “It’s an amusement,” as a Scot remarks.

The morning begins with what we will be doing the most over the next thirteen hours: waiting. Poles, Swedes, Germans, Dutch, English and Scots first wait for a girlfriend of the English woman who wanted to come along. Then, once we arrive at the studios in Bandra, we wait again – for our costumes. I refuse to put on the very short, red frock; while the English woman isn’t bothered. “Oh, why not?” she says. “We’re just on the set.” I am squeezed into a light-blue tube made of polyester that smells of old sweat. None of the extras were given a dress in their size. The fabrics are pulled tight over midriffs, squeeze our breasts together. There are no matching shoes. We leave our own shoes on and so we wear hiking sandals or trainers with our ostensible evening gowns.

As cheap as the costumes appear, the set is a sight for sore eyes. Today, they are filming a casino scene. The lights glitter, there are roulette tables, slot machines, a till, bars and velvet armchairs. Girls dressed in Mickey Mouse ears, corsets and miniskirts look like a cross between Playmate and Christina Aguilera. The scene is supposed to be set in Hong Kong, so a few Asian-looking people are standing at the tables, in addition some blacks and we white Europeans were cast. There are a lot of people here on the set; at least 150 of them. Some of them lug cables about, some are rearranging the set, while others collect roulette chips and bring the hulk of a director a cup of tea. But, most are sitting around waiting for something, maybe for the plot of the movie. It’s a romantic comedy, someone explains.

The star of the show is Mallika Sherawat. Unlike us, she is perfectly made-up and wearing a pink-coloured glittering outfit. A stylist is plucking at her hair, while a choreographer rehearses the scenes over and over with the two dozen dancers. Naturally, their motions are perfectly coordinated and not as stiff as Toby’s from London. He landed in Mumbai yesterday and is already in a Bollywood studio. He never imagined that happening. The 19-year old will spend the next five months travelling through India before beginning studies at St. Andrews in Scotland.

He finds it amusing to experience this all so close up, even though we spend most of our time waiting. A few of the extras give up and forgo their wages. Some are reading, eating, smoking and waiting. Most of all, they are talking. Gavin is the luminary of the troop. The tall Englishman is wearing a salmon-coloured suit and a light-blue shirt that a bird shat on during one of the breaks. His tie is adorned with penguins and fir trees that make it look more like Christmas than Bollywood. In general, the Europeans appear quite out of place and feel it, as well. We nonetheless obey the instructions: “Energy boys, power girls.” Or, “When the music starts everyone dance.” And, “Enjoy!” Today, twenty seconds of a five-minute song are being filmed. It is a long twelve-hour day and the catchy tune sticks in our heads. “It could be worse,” says Sien from the Netherlands. “At least we’re allowed to dance.”

There is nothing at all glamorous about the set of a Bollywood film, but it’s still “far better than just looking at temples and museums,” as Sien puts it. The pay of 500 rupees for 12 hours of boredom is invested immediately in a beer at Café Leopold. We clink our glasses to the big day. Toby raises his glass and says, “There’s no business like show business.”