Before embarking on my epic overland journey from India to Germany, I set my sights on a couple of key experiences that I'd like to have in each country. While it's important to be flexible and open to new experiences, I think it's also important to do a bit of healthy goal-setting; things that will keep you motivated during the tough days that you inevitably face while on the road. One of these goals is to get my face into a Bollywood film.
This might sound like a pretty lofty goal, but being the world's largest film industry means there is a lot of work for extras, and there is a particular demand for westerners – to the point where there are scouts that lurk around the tourist areas of South Mumbai approaching white-skinned tourists to shoot a scene or two. It's almost a rite of passage for westerners visiting Mumbai.
I'm staying at Arma Hostel in Bandra East when I meet two English girls called Frankie and Hannah, who have been approached by such a scout. When they tell me this news, I ask them if they can get me in. Frankie sends a couple of messages and tells me that I need to make an audition video. Apparently I just need to say my name, where I'm from, my age and my height.
Okay then.
Frankie films me on her phone, as I announce “Hi, I'm Donovan Murphy, from Sydney, Australia. I'm 27 years old and 175 centimetres tall.” Frankie sends the video and we wait for a response.
“The part is for a soldier in the US Army. Tell him to look tough.”
Take two.
I stand with my feet a little further apart, puff my chest, flare my shoulder blades, and raise my voice a little, trying my best to look like cocky and brash. “Hi. I'm Donovan Murphy! I'm 27 years old and come from Sydney, Australia! I'm 175 centimetres tall and weigh 87 kilograms. My hobbies include rugby and hiking!”
Slight embellishment of facts. I used to play rugby – badly – and I hike maybe a few times a year.
Again, Frankie sends off the video, and this time we are told:
“That's good, but we need more light. Do it again somewhere with better lighting. I liked the part about the rugby.”
We go searching for somewhere in the hostel with plenty of light, and the best place turns out to be the corridor leading to the dormitories. I feel like an absolute wanker going through this routine, especially while people are trying to sleep right next to me, but then I suppose the film industry is built on big egos, so I just try to feed on that.
We send through take 3 and wait.
Bingo.
I'll have to shave my beard for the “role”, I'm told. I don't like the idea of being beardless, but they grow back pretty quickly, and it's definitely a worthy sacrifice for the experience of a lifetime! Nevertheless, I hold off on shaving it for now. It's a film studio. Surely they have hair and makeup artists for that shit.
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Our “scout” arranges to meet us outside our hostel at 8am Monday morning. He turns up at 8:45. His name is Imran. He is in his mid 30s, bald, a bit stocky, and very stressed out. That final point is a theme that I will see repeated multiple times throughout the day. The film industry, from what I can gather, is a highly-strung business full of highly-strung people. He complains that he doesn't know the area where we are staying and he got lost on the way. The train line that shoots north through Mumbai's suburbs doesn't just divide them physically. It's a rich-poor line as well. To the west of the train line is glamour; to the east, slums. He never goes east. More on this in a later post.
As we drive, Imran explains to us that we will be working with a very famous actor called Salman Khan. That name means absolutely nothing to the three of us at the moment, but Imran tells us that he's a superstar, and that every movie he's in is a smash hit at the box office. I Google him, and it seems Imran isn't bullshitting us. According to Forbes, he's the highest paid celebrity in India. And apparently he's known for getting his shirt off on screen and showing off his muscles. What a thing to be known for! The movie is called Tiger Zinda Hai, which is the sequel to Ek Tha Tiger, one of the highest-grossing Bollywood films of all time. It's a big-budget spy action thriller, a la James Bond.
Imran says that he's going to take me to get shaved, but in his rush he forgets to do it. We pull into Yash Raj Film Studios at 9:30am, and Imran rushes us upstairs to a makeup room. The place is absolutely frantic; dozens of actors, extras and costume designers rushing about like the apocalypse is coming.
One of the costume designers looks at me and says: “US?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess so?”
“Take this,” she orders, and shoves a US Army uniform at me.
I go into the dressing room and put it on, and then take a seat and absorb the chaos. Frankie has also been put into a US Army costume. Hannah has not been put into a costume at all. Interesting.
I notice two tall, photogenic blondes also wearing US Army uniforms, one male and one female. They are posing in front of the makeup mirrors, preening their hair, and generally strutting around like they're the big stars. I gather that they aren't, in fact, big stars, but they do seem comfortable in this environment. They're probably regular extras – maybe they even have a line or two of dialogue!
Two costume designers come up to me and start speaking tersely with each other. I can't appear as a US soldier with a beard. They send me to get changed again, this time into a jet black shalwar kameez (much like the white one I'm wearing in my profile picture). The shalwar kameez is the national dress of Pakistan, and is also widely worn in India and parts of Iran. But for the purposes of Tiger Zinda Hai, it's an ISIS uniform.
Five minutes later, they decide that this won't do either. I'm too white and my hair is too red to be an ISIS member. I go for another costume change. Now, I'm going to be a technician at the Al Faridoon Oil Refinery in Iraq. Alright then.
Once we're all dressed, it's time to stop for breakfast. We filter out into the corridor, where a bank of chafing dishes have been set up with a selection of Indian cuisine. Sadly, nothing to satisfy my aggressive pepper palate, but a good selection of nutritious and filling (and clean!) foods.
Over by the elevator, Frankie and Hannah have picketed Imran. Why hasn't Hannah got a role? I thought we were in this together. Imran is getting animated, telling Frankie that he never said anything about Hannah having a role. There has been a misunderstanding. Frankie says she's only in it if Hannah is in it too. It's just a bit of fun for her and she wants to share it with her friend. She gets back into her regular clothes and they leave. Imran is seething, and he comes to me and starts bitching – Frankie had a couple of lines of dialogue and has just thrown a huge spanner in the works by storming off.
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After breakfast, the 20 or so extras in the US Army uniforms all disappear for filming, and I'm left in the makeup room with four Russians. Two dressed as ISIS soldiers and two dressed as technicians like me. A few of them speak English, so we chat a little, but mostly, we just sit. And sit. And sit some more. A whole lot of sitting. One of the Russians was smart enough to bring a book. This clearly isn't his first time.
After a couple of hours, the two tall, blonde prima donnas from earlier return to the room and join us in our sitting marathon. A few other staff wander in as well. The 20 extras from the morning are either still filming or are finished for the day, because they don't come back. We stop for another food break – we have 5 throughout the day in total.
As we sit in the makeup room eating, he walks in. Salman Khan. I've met a fair few famous people, but none have made such an instant impression on me as this actor – who I had never heard of until this morning – makes when he walks in the room. This guy has Presence™. You can feel the breath being sucked out of the room. Religious people are often referred to as God-fearing, and I'm pretty sure that I've just seen a live enactment of what would happen if any of the world's gods appeared before their believers. The awe. Wow. The only person in the room who isn't totally gobsmacked is me. I just find the whole scene fascinating.
Salman Khan. Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons
Everyone shifts to one side of the room, as Salman sits in a makeup chair, totally nonplussed by the reaction. I'm sure he's used to seeing people get starstruck. One thing that I've always thought would be difficult about being a celebrity is the amount of artificial interactions you would have with people. Everywhere you go, you meet people that already have an opinion of you, whether positive or negative, even though they know nothing about who you really are; only what they've seen on TV or read in magazines. Dealing with starstruck fans who idolise the very ground you walk on. Dealing with haters. Dealing with people who want to ride your coattails on their own journey to fame and fortune. I don't think I would like it, but then I guess humans are a pretty adaptable species, so I'm sure I'd adjust.
The only person who hasn't shifted is one of the blonde Russian prima donnas. She continues sitting in her chair eating a plate of dahl. But her arrogant veneer is stripped away in a split second when Salman Khan turns to her and – quite politely – asks if she could not eat right next to him while he's getting his makeup done. “Okay!” she squeaks, and scampers across the room. I'll be honest, it brings a little sadistic smirk to my face. Unwarranted arrogance is a trait that I detest.
Salman is in and out in 10 minutes, only needing a little foundation. For a 51 year old, he's in great shape and holding his age quite well. He disappears for some filming, while for the rest of us, the sitting marathon continues.
Stay tuned for part two of this story, as I finally make it onto the set and get my big chance at fame and fortune!
