And finally, excerpts from Rachel Shelley's (Elizabeth in the film) own
diary during the filming of Lagaan:
"Bhuj is a dusty, walled fort town in a remote corner of north-western
India. With plenty of soldiers. Pakistan is only 70 km away, and given the
delicate nature of relations between Islamabad and New Delhi, the Indian
government regards the area as "highly sensitive".
So all foreigners are required to register with the police. In big letters,
my little registration card reads: "Please note that landscape photography
is prohibited." Interesting. Did anyone tell them we have come here to shoot
a film? My assignment is to spend four months here as the lead actress in
Bollywood's most expensive film ever. It's a period romantic comedy called
'Lagaan', set in a poor and drought-stricken community in central India in
1893.
People are treating me as though I'm already famous, just because they know
I'm about to do an Aamir Khan film. Giving autographs is new for me.
Day 1 (on set)
During my first hour of filming, the sweat began to collect in puddles in
and around my corset. Then came the sandblasting as the wind whipped up,
playing havoc with my hat and make up. In between having to spit, extract
eye bogies and stand like a teapot (one hand on hat because the hat pins
haven't arrived; one holding my parasol aloft), I/we completed the scheduled
scenes to everyone's satisfaction. The Indian actors celebrated the
completion of the first shot with a prayer.
Day 3
It shouldn't happen on any film set. A whole afternoon's work has to be
re-shot. Why? Because we were finishing a scene today that we started
yesterday and yesterday I was wearing earrings. Today I wasn't. Whose fault
is that? Continuity? It doesn't exist. Wardrobe? Yes, but they are really
tailors, not dressers. They've actually asked me if the back of my skirt
looks OK - like I can see it from where my head is.
Back at Sahajanand Towers, I want to drown my sorrows in a large vodka
ginger ale or dairy-free ice cream or an enormous bowl of pasta or a hot
bath. None of these is available. I may take up smoking again instead.
Day 11
The reason for not writing in more than a week is not just because some of
the other Brits have arrived and I suddenly have something that resembles a
social life (Scrabble), but because I have been working like a dog.
Tuesday morning was by far the lowlight. Awful. After all my requests for a
wardrobe assistant, no one had arrived and as I prepared for a new scene,
the nightmares in the changing room began. There were still no hatpins,
which are essential. My undergarments had been washed but were still wet. No
one could find the right shoes and the period leather laces hadn't been cut.
The assistant directors (ADs) were bullying me into leaving for set when I
wasn't fully dressed.
I was supposed to be doing my biggest Hindi scene and instead was stressing
over wardrobe! No one even attempted to apologise, placate or accept
responsibility, so when I found the temporarily appointed wardrobe man,
Sanjay, I demanded answers. OK - I shouted at him. Not for more than about
30 seconds, and then I immediately apologised, but I shouted. Maybe now, I
thought, someone would get the message. Sure enough, solutions miraculously
became available. That night, I was summoned to Aamir Khan's room where, to
my acute shame, I was sanctimoniously reprimanded. "Everyone was completely
shocked," said Aamir, because they all thought I was "such a nice,
reasonable girl", and "that sort of behaviour just doesn't happen on my film
sets". To my huge surprise, I began to cry. This made him feel terrible,
which I'm sorry to admit actually made me feel a lot better.
But still, I hadn't managed to justify or defend myself as well as I could.
What I did manage to tell Aamir was that I found his dual role as producer
and actor very hard to cope with as I couldn't handle being reprimanded by
him in the evening and then having to tell him the next day in Hindi that I
love him.
Day 64
So now I am on drugs. After two days of low-grade gastroenteritis, I
couldn't get to sleep because the composer, A R Rahman, who is about to work
with Andrew Lloyd Webber on his new musical, is in the next room and can
only work at night. And it seems he can only work very, very loud.
Day 68
The only problem for me was the first scene of my song/fantasy. I'm taken
into the ballroom where they are all set up to shoot Aamir (who is now
dressed in British officer uniform) and I do a swift, romantic waltz. Except
it's not just a quick waltz; they start throwing in multiple spins and head
turns and telling me to "spot" (whatever that is) and basically behave like
the trained dancer which I am not. I did not expect to have to rehearse -
self-consciously and badly - in front of the entire cast and crew in full
costume. It takes me 40 minutes to get it right, but thankfully Aamir isn't
much better. The dance director rattled me immediately, shouting and telling
me how easy it is.
Day 78
My "song" continues to make me laugh. I twirl in circles on the beach in my
nightwear, skip around pillars and fountains and dance with scarves on a
high, blustery turret. They've even got me kissing roses and clasping doves
(pigeons, really) and declaring "Yes, I'm in looove!" before releasing them
to the heavens. It's a shame they are so lazy they plummet to the ground
when I let them go. All of this is done to music playback which is loud
enough to drown out my dreadful singing. It is all over just as I am really
beginning to love it.
My song was the only opportunity I got to wear sensual and sexy clothes and
make-up. The best part for me was dressing up as a local Indian village girl
and playing coy with Aamir at twilight. With my midriff showing and adorned
with jewellery, I've decided I make a cool peasant.
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