This
review comes with something of a caveat: I spent three weeks in February
working with Umar Ahmed, the co-writer and director of How to Make a Killing in Bollywood. I’m glad I did – if not, it’s doubtful
I would have walked through the snow on a dismal Friday night in Paisley to watch
a play about Bollywood.
How to Make a Killing in Bollywood tells the story of
Raza Khan, a struggling Scottish-Asian actor disillusioned by working evenings
in his family’s carryout in Glasgow – “serving chips and cheese to the local
neds”. After persuading his best friend and fellow actor, Gurjit, to take a
leap of faith and have a crack at making it big in Bollywood, the pair set off
for India “on a path that will change both their lives forever.” [Quotes from
the show’s official flyer]
The first
act rushes a little too quickly towards its cliff-hanger moment, although when
it arrives, it is difficult not to feel sympathy for Raza. It’s no spoiler to
reveal that it is actually Gurjit who receives the fabled call-back from a
Bollywood casting company. Cue shocked expression on Raza’s face and a fade to
black for the interval. At this point, I was really hoping that the second act
didn’t lurch into a moral testing of faith/soul-searching for Raza. In a way,
it does do that, but How to Make a
Killing in Bollywood is actually a much cleverer and more ambitious play.
Raza’s
relationship with Versha, a prostitute he meets at a bar on his first night in
India, becomes one of the highlights of the show. Not only does Versha embody
the duality of India and Bollywood – sexy yet seedy, beautiful yet dangerous,
hot yet cold – her ability to manipulate Raza (and the ease with which he
allows this to happen), makes him a far more rounded and, crucially, believable, character. In a great scene
in the second act, where Gurjit chastises Raza for going out drinking again
instead of concentrating on what he came to India for, Raza curtly tells his
friend that that is what he’s doing. The ambiguity, bizarrely, could not be
more clear: Raza has realised, finally, that the road to glory is not as
straightforward as he had previously hoped, so he panders to Versha’s good
nature, deceiving her with promises of a future together, that he really cares, so that he can steal her ‘little
black book’. As Raza becomes less likeable as a character, the tension between
him and Gurjit escalates perfectly along its tragicomic plotline. Yet, its
almost-inevitable climax remained a surprise, quite a shocking one at that,
which I think the play manages because of its expert juxtaposition and blending
of dark and light, both visually and metaphorically.
Had the
play ended ten seconds earlier, with the harrowing confrontation between Raza
and Gurjit, I would have left Paisley Arts Centre slightly underwhelmed. That
the last words we hear are “And, cut!” from a disembodied director is testament
to the writers’ and (real) director’s skill and judgement. How to Make a Killing in Bollywood doesn’t frame itself as a
metafictional work in the way that books like If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller do, but I am very glad that
Ahmed and Sumal injected the play with a hearty dose of self-awareness. The
play’s opening, an answer-phone message left by a casting agency informing Raza
of a(nother) unsuccessful audition, is strong, but it’s only two hours later,
when we realise that How to Make a
Killing In Bollywood is, effectively, a two-fingered salute to all of the
directors and theatre companies that didn’t employ the four actors in this
show, that we fully appreciate its real intricacy and beauty: the ease with
which it lies a sardonic, deadpan message about the whole of the theatre and acting world while simultaneously
providing us with a camp-as-you-like, pat the dog, change the lightbulb romp
through the journey of two minority characters.
There
are, of course, problems with the play, just as there are specific instances of
excellence. For me, the tendency towards very literal soliloquies, in which
characters subjected us to their inner fears and desires in quite banal
speeches felt a little over the top. A more successful example of these
soliloquies, performed by Gurjit not long after his arrival in India, sees the
character reflect on a meeting with a street kid who wanted to involve him in a
game of cricket. By focusing on the ordinary, on Gurjit’s noticing of the
precise way that the child held the bat, the speech became more than a sum of
its parts; it invoked something else about India – a bigger picture and wider
scope than that merely framed in this show.
Elsewhere,
the airport security scene was handled brilliantly, giving us a sense of some
of the prejudices facing Asian travellers. Done so humorously – Gurjit
ultimately having to strip to his boxers, with the alarm-raising ‘problem’
being discovered ‘down there’ – the scene was genuinely funny without holding us, as a
neutral audience, accountable for the bigotry of others. Just after this, as a
nervous Gurjit waits for the plane to take off, he muses on the mechanics of
what it is that will actually keep him in the air all the way to India. The
scene is very poetic: isolated within his own mind, we hear all of the
ridiculous but appropriate thoughts that we must have all had at some point
during flying, such as what would happen if just that one wire were to fail?
How to Make a Killing in Bollywood is currently touring
Scotland (dates on the site below) and I really hope that people will make the
effort to see it. Ahmed and Sumal have produced a play which is so much richer
than it appears; a play that is about friendship and ambition and the lengths
people will go to realise their dreams. It’s a play of light and dark; a play
of life and death; a play of laughter and sorrow. It’s a play that more people
need to see, and I wish the cast and the whole team every success with it in
the future.
Written
and devised by Umar Ahmed and Manjot Sumal. Directed by Umar Ahemd. Cast of
actors: Umar Ahmed, Manjot Sumal, Storm Skyler McClure and Adam Buksh.
Produced
by Scott Kyle, NLP Theatre Company/Regal Theatre, Bathgate
Watched
at Paisley Arts Centre on Friday the 22nd March 2013.
For tour dates and more information, please click here.
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ReplyDeleteSeconded! And well done on a much more coherent critique than I managed in my beer-addled heid.
ReplyDeletePaul H