Lagan
habshi
English subtitles including the songs
Here is a chance for western audiences to see a wonderful Bollywood
blockbuster on the big screen , not a typical masala film but quite
entertaining . The subtitling is excellent , quite literal except
maybe in or two spots - eg where he says' we plough the land' in fact
he actually says 'we are the ones who split Mother earth's chest and
plant seeds in her bosom'- I think if they translated the original
flowery imaginative language it would be even more fun . And it doesnt
distract - in fact helps a lot , for eg I didnt know amber was sky and
shakahari was vegeterian.
Music is excellent , choreography very good . Since the movie is long
another couple of songs on top of the six there would have helped.
There are more reviews on www.sulekha.com and
http://www.indolink.com/bollywood/Film/index.html although I tend to
read them afterwards but they have all marked it very high .
Rachel Shelley is lovely - will go to see the movie again just for her
and Blackthorne as the villain is superb . Somebody do a search and
get the Guardian.co.uk article where she wrote about her experience
of making a Bollywood movies and the loves she found there .
Another favourite character was the wild man who always curses and has
some very unorthodox batting shots ! Gracie Singh and Amir Khan have
excelled themselves and its nice to have so much communal harmony esp
him breaking a coconut before the game and asking for the blessings of
the ape God Hanuman .
Photography is marvellous , liked Rachel's dresses very much , for
once it outshown Indian ones . Loved the village language . If you
look carefully it really does have all the ingredients that make a
Bollywood movie -betrayal , there is Judas type of character ,
forgiveness , glamour dances , great music , superb dialog , great
photography .
habshi
city scenes and Bollywood should continue to use dubbing . It adds
greatly to the enjoyment of a movie if one can hear the words clearly.
Also its great that real life Brits are used . Their Hindi is very
good too ! A must see movie and hopefully because of the subtitles it
will become a big hit in the west .
habshi
just two bases - the homeplate and first base . A batting side player
stands on each plate . Six balls are thrown with an overarm action
from one plate to the other and the player tries to hit it and then
both players run . If they cross and get to the other plate its one
run and if they get back its two. If the ball crosses the boundary
having bounced once its four and if it sails over the boundary without
bouncing its six runs .
If the player misses and it hits the stumps behind him or if he hits
it and somebody catches it , its out . The side which scores more runs
wins . There are 11 players in each side and you have to get ten of
them out . This movie goes into a lot of details of the game - overarm
action , spinning the bowl , bodyline bowling invented by the Brits
when they tried to kill the Australian players ! , no ball , stumping
etc. In the form of entertainment it provides a great learning
experience and it does have English subtitles and is running in
multiplexes in UK , USA , Canada , Australia and South Africa .
More reviews on www.sulekha.com and planet bollywood .
"Jon A. Bell" <joa...@sirius.com> wrote:
Folks,
My wife just returned from a two-week working trip in Mumbai, where
she saw "Ek Rishtaa" and posters for an upcoming film called "Lagaan."
She heard great things about "Lagaan," so I went to the Net, got some
info on it, and we decided to see it at the Naz8 Cinemas in Fremont,
California (we live in the San Francisco Bay Area.)
Although we haven't seen many Bollywood films (we were the only people
of non-Indian ancestry in the entire theater!), we *loved* "Lagaan" --
it plays like an historical cross between "Seven Samarai" and "Rocky"
(if you can imagine these films with musical numbers, culminating in a
do-or-die cricket match!) The photography, acting and music,
especially, were outstanding, and we were thoroughly entertained. It's
a long film -- it's over 3.5 hours -- but it's definitely worth
checking out.-- Jon, who's never eaten somosas in a movie theater
before <g>
amarjit <am...@cunyvm.cuny.edu> wrote:
Go and See Lagaan.
I was waiting for this movie all year but when I saw the review on
rediff ( a lot of cricket etc) I was a bit leary about going to watch
it. Boy, am I glad I went. One of the all time best movies I have
ever seen.
Way Way above the likes of Mohabbattein etc. It was a refreshing
change from all the crap with switzerland locations dished out all
year and all the ultra-serious boring fare like astitva.
The songs were well placed and part of the story, not inserted here
and there. They were beautifully choreographed. Aamir, Gracie Singh
and all the supporting cast did an excellent job.
One of the all time best movies I have seen. My kids loved it even
though they don't know much about cricket.
Habshi
http://us.imdb.com/CommentsShow?282674-3
excerpt
Rachel Shelley makes her presence felt like an ethereal
spirit. Apart from looking stunning she adds to whichever frame she is
in with panache and style. Her crossover to Indian cinema, or indeed
to this film, is delicately handled and a feat to be applauded. To
light a face like Shelley's in the same frame as the villagers without
making one or the other look considerably darker or awkwardly paler,
is a difficult task in itself. But the cinematography, the lighting
and make up is such that the characters come alive as physical
presences which complement each other
excerpt
My first experience of Indian cinema, and what an enjoyable 3 1/2
hours it was too. The oppressed indian villagers must find a way to
send the evil British and their unfair taxes (Lagaan) packing. A
mighty battle? An uprising? A revolution? Yes - but not on the streets
- on the cricket pitch! It seems the Victorian ideal of salvation
through sport is alive and well in India, and its been spun around to
portray the struggle against Imperialism. Who would have thought?
To my mind, the basic plot seems fairly comical, but there is enough
meat for serious film students to appreciate the picture as well. The
cinematography is first rate, espically of the all important cricket
match; the star Aamir Khan has a magical presence (albeit if he looks
like an Asian Eminem); and the progressive content - including an
untouchable in the team - is still fairly controversial for Indians.
Anyone interested in Indian cinema, I would definitely recommend this
film. It's convinced one very sceptical cinema goer!
http://www.rediff.com/entertai/2001/jun/15lagaan.htm
http://www.guardian.co.uk/friday_review/story/0,3605,488660,00.html
Love in a hot climate
Lagaan is the biggest-budget Bollywood movie ever, the first to shoot
entirely on location and the first to use a large number of British
actors - among them the female lead Rachel Shelley. She chronicles
four months of disease, tears and passion in the desert of western
India
Friday May 11, 2001
The Guardian
Arrival
Bhuj is a dusty, walled fort town in a remote corner of north-western
India. With plenty of soldiers. Pakistan is only 70km 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. It tells the
story of a dastardly British army captain who challenges the locals to
a cricket match, the loser of which will pay the state's land tax - or
lagaan. The Indians are led by a heroic villager, but this being 1893,
they are ignorant of the game's rules. Luckily, the captain's visiting
younger sister, Elizabeth (me), is inspired to teach them covertly out
of sympathy, and later, out of love for the heroic youth. And there
are songs. Our star, producer and muse is the Bollywood legend Aamir
Khan.
Moving in
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. "Just write what you normally write," Satya, a producer, told me,
as though it's something I do every day. The cast and crew are all
billeted on the top four floors of Bhuj's only seven-storey apartment
block. Residents who aren't working on the film won't share the lift
with me. I am told that the shoot was already three days behind
schedule even before I arrived - and that the production is horribly
disorganised and the food is inedible. So far, then, it's really no
different from any other film I've been in.
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. Lagaan breaks many of the rules of Indian film-making, and the
industry is watching, waiting for things to go wrong. These are the
Bollywood firsts: shooting synch-sound (ie, recording the sound
simultaneously with the pictures); shooting entirely on location;
using British actors speaking Hindi lines; and shooting in one
continuous schedule - no one will be slipping off to complete the
other 15 films they have on the go, as is usual. Aamir told the cast
and crew they would not be hired unless they cleared their schedules
and committed, and commit they did. Our director of photography (DP)
is India's award-winning best, Anil Mehta. Our costume designer, Bhanu
Athaiya, won an Oscar for Gandhi. Even the smaller roles are filled by
revered Indian actors.
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. Ever since I arrived I've been asking who would be helping me
dress, as corsets and period costume all seem to fasten at the back.
The wardrobe staff are all older men and wouldn't help even if I
wanted them to. Pina, the chief hairdresser, has volunteered but says
she will not be held responsible for anything that goes wrong. She has
enough to do and cannot keep checking me on set. So what happens? We
lose an entire afternoon's shooting. I talk to the Indian actors who
tell me they are keeping their own continuity because no one else
will. Although that's not the official line, it's what always ends up
happening in Bollywood, even for the leading lady. Continuity has
never been a responsibility I have faced before. I have enough of my
own work to be thinking about. I am told not to worry because it is
totally not my fault and of course a dresser will be found
immediately. I know it's not my fault! But we still have to re-shoot
and that pisses me off! 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. I guess he is the star and it
is his shebang and I will just have to deal with it. After six days of
pre-dawn calls and 14-hour working days, I was ready for my Saturday
night. I nearly cried again when I heard that my fellow Brit actors
were all about to spend the evening watching the Leeds-Liverpool match
live on telly. I wandered off to find the "party" in the DP's room.
Oh my God. Ghazaals are traditional Urdu rhymes set to music,
helplessly romantic, stunningly poetic, even in translation. One of
the cast, Ragou, is a trained ghazaal singer, and it was
spine-tingling to listen to him. Add to this the fact that Apoo, our
assistant director, who until this evening had barely spoken to or
even smiled at me, took it upon himself to tumble his translations
into my left ear. Apoo is probably the most attractive man on the
entire film and to have his sweet voice pour warm poetry over me under
the bewitching wails of Ragou's succulent voice . . . Well, after 15
minutes I felt sure he was about to propose something to me. But when
I returned from the bathroom, my place had been snuck into by
Clementina in production. Although the evening continued in grand
style, when I got into bed I could still hear his words: "How can I
throw the ashes of your thoughts in the water, their fire will turn
the water into flames . . ."
Day 18
The working week was characterised by the public study of the
declining state of my complexion. When I arrived in India, there
wasn't a blemish in sight; in the last two weeks, my face has erupted.
Spots are never nice, but now their progress isbeing tracked by the
make-up artist, the DP, the chief gaffer, the lighting man, the
director, the lead actor and the entire AD department - and then will
be magnified to fill the screen. To be fair, all these people are so
good at their respective jobs that I doubt anything will be very
obvious in the finished product. I just wish I could keep my spot
examination within the confines and privacy of my own bathroom.
Another Saturday night, another ghazaal concert, this time a
professional performance organised by production on the roof of
Sahajanand Towers. I tried to squeeze in next to Apoo but in the end I
had to share his translations with everyone else. I have heard that he
is involved with his assistant. They are curiously cagey about their
whole affair. People took turns to sing near the end of the show. I
stumbled through a rather croaky rendition of Norwegian Wood, then hid
in a corner for a while.
Day 34
Another nightmare. Having been told I had my first whole day off, I
was enjoying doing nothing when I was called on set. No one could tell
me what for. On arrival I was told out of the blue that I was doing an
enormously emotional scene, my second biggest Hindi one. And I had a
brand new Hindi line. As the production team knows well, Hindi lines
take me a couple of days to become fluid with. So I got cross and
upset. Their excuse was that they only made the decision at 1am and
didn't want to wake me. So why didn't I know about it till I got on
set at midday? I attempted to learn the new words - none of which were
familiar. And it would have to be the line before I say "I love you"
in Hindi, wouldn't it? It wasn't going in. No surprise really: I gave
up my millennium holiday to learn Hindi - if I could learn Hindi lines
in an hour I wouldn't have bothered. Imagine the scenario: young
tearful Victorian gal attempting to plead her innocence to sceptical
handsome Indian villager is forced to confess the unrequited and
doomed love she feels for him. Emotion fills her flushed and tearful
face as her eyes meet those of her beloved:
Elizabeth: Mayray bahee nay mujhay dhoka dhaka toomhay giruftar
kuraya. [My brother when to me deception gave your arrest did.]
Bhuvan: Kyookee kah? [Because what?]
Elizabeth: (over-wrought) Kyookee . . . [Because . . .]
Aamir steps aside briefly to reveal a small and very badly written cue
board. Our gal reads it once, and then again, because it's all just
too unsettling and quite a tough line . . .
Elizabeth Mayray bahee ko yay maloom ho gaya ta key . . . [My brother
of this found out past tense that . . .]
Aamir steps back into my eye line for me to deliver the rest of the
original script . . .
Elizabeth May toomsay pyar kurnay lugee hoo. Ha, Bhuvan, may toomsay
pyar kurnay lugee hoo. [I've fallen in love with you. Yes, Bhuvan,
I've fallen in love with you.]
Filming is so often like this. Last- minute changes wipe out months of
preparation. Our director, Ash, was very happy so I had to accept it.
But I could have been much better.
Day 45
This week and last have been long and hard. We are filming the grand
finale, a three-day cricket match, and all those not on the pitch are
spectators in the British pavilion, ie we are background. So
background that we are not processed through hair and make-up. So
background that the Raj is played by a stand-in chosen for his
dissimilarity, and one of the British majors has been allowed to go
home for a few days.
In fact, so background are we that on Thursday, when the
"creative team" decided to return unexpectedly to day one and all
day-one costumes were found being smashed to pieces on a rock
somewhere (ie were in the wash), they decided it didn't really matter
what we were wearing. So we wore day-two clothes instead. Everyone is
losing it slightly. Possibly out of sheer boredom I contracted a
violent dose of gastroenteritis on Friday morning and was sent home at
lunch. Even though I felt quite normal again by evening, Apoo told me
not to come in today (Saturday) because my absence can be obscured by
a parasol. In his words, "It's good to be friends with the first AD."
Still, finding my casual dispensability rather unnerving, I have
decided to re-read my script and brush up on my character this
afternoon. These last 10 days I have almost forgotten the plot.
Day 52
We are still filming the cricket match. Everyone is getting delirious.
I have been sitting with Jeremy Child, another Britisher, for three
weeks now, in the same position on the same raffia chair, in 38-degree
heat, pretending to be engrossed in a game we can't even see. Some of
the unluckier extras are sitting in the sun and sunstroke has taken
its toll. I am about to crack.
Day 54
Today I did crack. But thankfully I cracked along with everyone else
under the guise of Holi, the Indian festival of colour which
celebrates the spring equinox, and traditionally everyone drinks bang
lassi and throws paint at one another. As soon as "wrap" was called,
all hell broke loose. I had come equipped with a 2ft-long water pistol
and a bucket full of balloons that Harri, my unofficial assistant, had
been dutifully filling with pink paint for me all day. Immediately I
was out of costume I stepped out, thinking I could take on the world.
Within 20 seconds, Apoo was upon me and so was the entire bucket of
pink paint, balloons and all. I ended up in the trough of water
prepared specially for the celebration. Of course, all this spilt
water went into the dry cracked earth, creating one enormous mud pool.
And then we all went into the mud pool. We were even provided with
small amounts of alcohol that evening by the caterers. I wish every
day was Holi.
Day 64
So now I am on drugs. After two days of low-grade gastroenteritis, I
couldn't get to sleep because the composer, AR 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. Then my puking and poohing became more severe. Doctor Rao was
called. In my delirious state I began to think I might never get
better. I took the antibiotics, slept a little and managed to stay
upright throughout the evening's work.
Day 68
It's 2:40pm and I have just woken up after a week of night shoots at
Mandvi Palace, 90 minutes south of Bhuj. Though Mandvi is lush with
trees and crops, the state of Gujarat is suffering from severe
drought, and cattle are dying by the side of the road. It's difficult
to accept, but there is water if you have the money. We had water to
waste at Holi, and there is water enough for the fountains at the
palace. Someone has organised a whip-round for the local farmers. At
the palace, it's cool, calm, controllable, intimate and dust-free. We
even get ahead of schedule.
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 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. I am out of my depth - all Indian actresses are
classically trained dancers too. When Harri delivers a sweetly
reassuring note and a handful of rose petals from Apoo just before we
shoot, I think, sod it, pretend you're messing about in your living
room with a friend. Hey presto, everything then goes smoothly. I have
completed my first Bollywood dance sequence.
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. Trouble is, I am now way too skinny to be considered at all
sexy to the average male Indian filmgoer. Apoo is, it seems, no
average Indian filmgoer. He has taken to inviting me for brunch at
about 3pm when everyone wakes up. I am the last to leave and sometimes
the only one to arrive, and the party always goes with a romantic
swing. This last week it was not unusual to see us rushing on to the
bus, slightly flushed, just before departure time.
Day 83
My back has been itchy. Then it felt a bit sore. When I could no
longer lean back or lie down, I reckoned it was time to see Dr Rao,
who prescribed more antibiotics and diagnosed me as having "multiple
boils and baby lesions"! He told me to ensure my corset is washed
frequently, so this afternoon I mentioned this to the wardrobe guys,
who don't speak English. Please wash this many times. No, no wash
madam. Yes, please wash. And please call me Rachel. OK, OK. So you
will wash it tonight? No, madam, cannot wash. OK, I'll wash it then.
No no, Bhanuji say corset no washing. Why? Bhanuji say. Never. What,
ever?! Never madam. You're telling me you have never washed this
corset? Never madam, we never wash corset. It get damage, madam.
Bhanuji say. I'll give them sodding damage. Three months in the same
gritty, sweaty, dusty, tight corset and never once washed? No amount
of talcum powder was ever going to combat that.
Day 97
I have found myself another pastime to while away the small hours of a
night-time shoot: trying to work out once and for all if Apoo is lying
to me when he tells me he is no longer involved with his assistant.
Wondering if he was telling me the truth when he told me they had
split up months ago, and if it really was just coincidence that he and
I got together only when she had supposedly "left the film". She has
now returned earlier than planned and my dates have been extended and,
oh my God - are we overlapping in too many ways to be tasteful or
hygienic? This is not the most cheerful way to pass the time but it
has suddenly become the most important.
The end
My work is all complete. Apoo called a wrap on me, and Ash presented
me with a cricket bat that had been signed by everyone in the cast and
crew. I looked about me a little dewy-eyed at all the smiling faces
that have filled my life these past four months. I hugged Ash and felt
a rush of nostalgia, sadness, relief, jubilation, achievement. Then
Apoo appeared to tell me he had personally organised for everyone to
sign my cricket bat. I turned away. His fiancée and I (yes, fiancée)
spoke properly for the first time the other night, all night, and
through her tears she taught me a new Hindi word not dissimilar to
another good old English c-word: chute . As I stood there in my own
little web of feelings, I suddenly found myself engulfed by a throng
of extras, all calling for photos and autographs. Ash and Apoo managed
to extract themselves from this affray, and suddenly I was cut off
from the people who meant something to me and surrounded by excited
strangers. As I signed and posed for snaps, I saw the cast and crew
lose interest and begin to wander to the catering area. I wanted to
shout "Don't you understand? I've finished!" For everyone else,
though, today was just another day of shooting. The 100th. Wow.
Lagaan premieres in Bombay on June 15, and will be released in the UK
later this year. Photographs of the making of the film will be on sale
at Alphabet, Beak Street, London W1, from June 26. Proceeds go to the
Gujarat Earthquake Fund.
http://www.rediff.com/search/lagaan.htm
How did you manage the song and dance in the film?
"The song and dance in 'Lagaan' was great fun. I used to do folk dance
earlier. I have always enjoyed dancing. I started proper training in
Classical dance only after the film. I had just basic training in
Classical dance. And I have just finished my Arangetram. I was a great
fan of Hema Malini's. I approached her but she doesn't teach. She has
a Guru and she recommended me to him."
We heard that Ashutosh was down with a slipped disc during the
schedule. How did he manage then?
"He was so brave. We were scared for him. He was supposed to rest for
15 days. But he never took a break. He would lie on a bed near the
monitor and give us instructions. He was quite passionate about it."
What was the schedule in Bhuj like?
We would wake up at 5. a.m, get on the sets and return by 8 p.m and by
that time we were ready to crash. Weekends we would have rehearsals,
reading, perhaps costume fittings. Sometimes there were parties. But I
never went. (Giggles)"
Considering 'Amaanat' can be called your claim to fame, would you
return to TV?
"I don't think I'll be able to do so. They are two different media. It
is difficult to return to TV now after the female lead that I have
played in 'Lagaan.' But I was very attached to the 'Amaanat' unit. And
it was depressing when I had to wind up the character."
Most newcomers would have started with a campus romance. How far do
you think you are at an advantage with 'Lagaan?'
"I have always admired old Hindi films and hoped that I could have
been born 40 years ago and done roles that Vyjayanthi Mala and
Madhubala had done. For me 'Lagaan' is a dream come true. And I think
I am extremely lucky to have done this role. All credit goes to
Ashutosh for having re-created the old world charm."