Thursday, August 02, 2007

A New Mission

KOLKATA, India - When someone taps you on the street in Kolkata, they usually want spare change or some milk for their eminanacted children, not offer a movie role.

Kolkata (Calcutta if you're feeling colonial) deserves reevaluation. Mother Theresa made it famous for her work with the city's poor. Thersea did her most important work right after the partition of India and Pakistan, when hundreds of thousands of Hindus created makeshift slums after fleeing what is now Bangladesh.

There are still poor people in Kolkata, they tug on shirts, shuffle between taxis with an outstretched hands and give heart-breaking speeches about how long it's been since their last meal. But there are also wealthy ones, the people I saw at the bar Somewhere Else dancing to a really good cover of The Cranberries "Zombie."
 
It's a cosmopolitan place, and when the house band took a break I chatted with members of the Nigerian national volleyball team, in town for a Commonwealth tournament. They had arrived earlier in the afternoon, and went straight from the airport to the stadium and lost to Singapore. Christopher, a lanky 33-year-old who played center and enjoyed spiking, predicted victory in the next day's match against the host team.
 
Harry Potter's everywhere. Since his final book is printed outside the city, it's available and cheaper than in other countries. A hardcover copy can be found for 550 rupees, about $13. He's also selling-out crowds in Kolkata's air-conditioned shopping centers, where the middle class beat the monsoon humidity. I saw "The Order of the Phoenix" in a rooftop facility with high-security. I was frisked twice before being allowed to enter, forced to spit out my gum (I tounged it) and forced to give up the rest of the pack.
 
And there's Jack, who mans an ice cream stand in the backpacker ghetto of Chowringee in the evenings, which makes recruiting for his day job of aspiring filmmaker easier. Jack served me an orange Popsicle and a business card my first evening here. He looks around 25, well-built and friendly, someone who probably does well selling food but isn't satisfied spending his youth on a Kolkatan street corner.

He wanted to know if I'd been in town later this week, and would be available for an early morning shoot.

"Just four hours," he said. "I'll pick you up from here and return three or four hours later."

I would portray a British solider, one of six who would be committing some sort of atrocity to a young, presumably defenseless Indian. For my work I'd receive 1,000 rupees ($25) and something for my video resume. I declined the offer, not out of pride for the British Raj, but because I'm camera-shy. Even in a non-speaking, strictly massacring role.