Lights, camera, ACTION, ACTION, ACTION!

I am going to tell the tale of my first Indian cinema-going experience. In some ways this is a bit of a travesty as I am currently traveling around Rajasthan, which is home to a mind-boggling wealth of historic, architectural and cultural treasures all of which are more than worthy of a blog or two, and yet I am most inclined to write about a trip to the flicks! To add insult to injury, the cinema was situated in Jaipur; a fascinating city founded in 1727 by Maharaja Jai Singh II, who was a famous warrior and astronomer and built a fortified city laid out in rectangular, geometric design (pretty unusual in Indian cities). He also constructed an amazing observatory, with all kinds of weird and wonderful astronomical instruments that look more like gigantic abstract sculptures than scientific equipment. They were mostly aimed at obtaining the astrological information that was a crucial part of Indian society at the time (and in many places, still is). Later, another Maharaja had the whole city painted pink in honour of a visit by the Prince of Wales, so you can imagine how beautiful the place is, particularly at sunset. Anyway, I suspect I am starting to sound rather like a guidebook so I'll get on with explaining why, despite these dazzling attractions, the cinema proved to be the highlight.

The cinema trip, I have to confess, was largely motivated by the prospect of whiling away the sweltering midday hours in air-conditioned bliss! As the film would be in Hindi and our main aims were to keep cool and have a "cultural" experience we didn't check the cinema listings and just turned up, which is something I have never done in the UK, and found quite fun - like a lucky dip. The film showing was called "Golmaal Returns" and with its gaudy poster featuring lots of young people posing on motorbikes, the women scantily clad in the height of Indian youf fashion, it frankly didn't look very promising (and yes, I can hear some amongst you disagreeing!).

Anyway, we didn't have time to think too much about it as we had to negotiate the whole ticket buying process. We managed to figure out what kind of seats we needed, and then joined the queue. Yes, you read it right….a "queue"; cinema going, it seems is the only activity, for which Indian people are prepared to form a (relatively) orderly line, although there were obviously a series of barriers and some officials bustling around to assist with the process. There were also two queues; one for women and another for men. Some of the more savvy blokes, who had cottoned onto the fact that the women's line was significantly shorter, put forward some very convincing arguments as to why we should purchase tickets on their behalf. As ever, Jen and I were in a minority; as women, and as Westerners and so received the inevitable stares and curiosity. It didn't feel too uncomfortable, but women are advised to be cautious of going to the cinema alone in the evenings when attendance is even more male dominated and the testosterone levels soar.

I have so far neglected to mention that the Raj Mandir cinema is reputedly India's most well-known Hindi cinema and the venue for premieres that take place outside Mumbai. It also has quite an extraordinary appearance. The Lonely Planet describes it as "so ugly it's beautiful…[with a] cream puff exterior [that] looks ready to orbit outer space or get gobbled up by a passing sweet toothed ogre", which is perhaps only a mild exaggeration. Maybe it was the cinema's status as a national icon, perhaps it is just an Indian phenomenon, but even though this was just a regular matinee performance, there was an almost audible hum of excited anticipation amongst the crowd milling around outside. Their excitement proved infectious and by the time the doors to the foyer opened (ticket booths are outside), I was really looking forward to the film, whatever it was like!

With relief we left the glare of the late morning sun and entered the cool of the cinema foyer. As we blinked and squinted, our eyes adjusting to the low-level lighting, a truly unexpected sight materialised. The building's design and decoration was quite stunning. It was built in 1976 (obviously an auspicious year!), but it seemed, in my completely inexperienced eyes, to take a lot of its inspiration from art-deco? There were huge chandelier type lighting hanging from the ceiling, the wooden doors to the auditorium bore handles carved in a modern leaf-like shape, the walls and coving were painted in immaculate pastels. However what really blew me away was the condition it was all in. In a country whose national monuments are often grossly unkempt, surrounded by rubbish or being destroyed by pollution, the Raj Mandir was in tip-top shape. It was clearly the recipient of some serious TLC, not a hair was out of place; an extraordinary contrast with the dirt, disorder and chaos that characterises a lot of India.

The auditorium was not yet open, so we waited in the foyer absorbing our surroundings and being not-so-surreptitiously photographed by countless mobile-cams. The bolder amongst our fellow-cinema goers took the opportunity to ask us to pose for photos with them. Just as my 'one, two, three cheese face' was starting to tire and turn into more of an innane grin, it was time for the film. The doors opened and everyone piled in; mostly teens and groups of young people, but there were older people and families too. The ceiling of the auditorium was awesome; it's impossible to describe - sort of moulded into swirling shapes - fortunately, despite the camera ban, Jen and I managed to sneak a few clandestine photos from inside our bags which I will post on the blog.

Once again, we were soon distracted from our architectural appreciation by the boisterous antics of the audience. As the film started there was a surge of whoops, whistles and cheers which grew in intensity when characters who were well known from Golmaal Part One, made their appearance. I am told though that this is nothing in comparison to the ruckus that a premiere/evening performance of a really big budget film induces. The film opened with a long scene which involved the characters dancing and singing to the Golmaal song, whilst riding motorbikes in various daring and dramatic positions, and as far as we could tell, had absolutely nothing to do with the film that ensued. Pure Bollywood brilliance.

Despite my reservations (and let's be honest, a certain degree of snobbery), I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed the film. It was exactly what was required; frothy, goofy, light-hearted Ben Stiller-does-Bollywood type entertainment. It was pretty easy to follow as much of the plot and humour was slap-stick / physical and helpfully there were quite a few English expressions used such as "the boss is always right" - which actually speaks volumes about Indian society. The audience lapped it up and seemed to be particularly amused by the camp gay character, whose appearance caused an eruption of schoolboy, 'isn't this naughty' type titters throughout the auditorium. Indian cinemas have preseved the tradition of having an interval - very civilised I feel - during which we snacked on reasonably priced popcorn (none of this forking out three quid for a box of what is mostly salt and air) and samosas, which are a great improvement on those plastic hotdogs you get in the UK.

Three hours passed by and I barely checked the time once, which is more than I can say for some of the high-brow, Guardian recommended stuff I have seen. The plot, based on a series of miscommunications (you know, jealous wife, hapless husband and his merry band of side-kicks) was resolved after an exceptionally farcical scene where each main character took turns at declaring suicidal intent and melodramatically sticking their head in a noose! Oh and of course there was the final super high budget, million special effects music/dance sequence that Bollywood does with such finesse to finish with (again with no apparent relevance to the film we had just seen, but when did that ever matter right?). Without the discipline of the ticket queues, there was at this point somewhat more of a stampede, as a thoroughly content and satisfied audience flooded out of the cinema, two English girls amongst them.

So that was my first trip to an Indian cinema. I would need to see a fair few more Bollywood productions, including some of the older classics, before I could draw conclusions as to whether I like it or not, and to start to understand how Bollywood both reflects and informs Indian culture. One thing for sure, it was an action-packed, lively and scintillating experience both on screen and off, and one I am already looking forward to repeating.