Picture Show – Apr 5th 1958
Dirk Bogarde’s India Diary
The Rank film unit making The Wind Cannot Read, in India found it one of the most exciting locations ever. The star, Dirk Bogarde, now back in England, was so impressed that he kept a diary, capturing vividly the colourful events that happened. Now he gives readers of “Picturegoer” the chance to relive with him some of the highlights.
FRIDAY
Arrived in Delhi via Paris and Beirut after twenty-two hours’ travel. Stepped off the plane to blazing sunshine and garlands of marigolds and jasmine round our necks. The wonderful smell of India was apparent immediately – heat, curry, roses and dust.
It’s exactly twelve years since I was here with the army. Never hoped to come back . . . but then I didn’t reckon on the Rank Organization.
Drive from the airport a hair-raising rush. Trucks and ox-carts and twenty million maniac cyclists and rickshaw drivers all trying to kill each other and, I was sure after ten minutes, me!
At length the city … and on the evening skyline the great dome of Jama Masjid and its minarets. Holy cattle wander at will amongst the traffic . . . green parrots wheel and screech among the trees. The beggars still beg . . . and the city is surging with rebuilding and fast American cars.
SATURDAY
At lunch, discover that one horrible legacy of the British is English cooking: watery greens and thin meat with cabinet pudding to follow. Must alter this quickly.
After trip to the location, Betty Box and Ralph Thomas gave a large reception in evening for all the cast to meet the many kind Indian officials who have made our arrival here possible. We are very proud to be the first British film company shooting in India for many years.
Bed early in readiness for tomorrow, after a rather dull meal at the Imperial with Yoko Tani – dull because the moment it arrived on the table the lights went out and a very long cabaret started.
I ate a long green chilli in the dark, in mistake for a tender piece of chicken and cried for help and water. Not an auspicious start … but I am glad to be here.
SUNDAY
Shootingstarts. Anthony Bushell and self and Yoko later. Sequence goes well. Sun mounts and gets hotter and hotter. Monkeys jolly excited by our activities … so are the hotel residents.
Between shots we audition a couple of conjurers. One was found by David Lean, who wrote our script, in Agra a year ago. He was so impressed by him that he wrote a part specially into the film.
His name is Munawar and he has three little yellow finches, which he has trained to catch things thrown to them, or select cards, or light cigarettes with matches.
But Bumble Dawson, our costume designer, has been told to dress him up and make him look more Indian. At present hew wears a trilby hat, brown boots, a tweed jacket and a pair of rather old plus-fours.
Dubbed “Starry-Eyes”
In the evening a reception given for us all by the U.K. Deputy High Commissioner and his wife. After this rather cheerful affair Betty and Ralph and I go off to a restaurant, which specializes in Russian and Chinese food.
Bed after a gossip with JOHN FRASER, who finds India so fascinating that the unit has dubbed him “Starry Eyes.” I prophesy that, after his first touch of Delhi-belly, disenchantment will set in.
So far the unit has been free … but I’m an old hand here … and it’ll come!
MONDAY
Shooting in a military establishment just outside the city. Great fun to be in uniform again. Ralph and I become a couple of crashing bores talking over old battles with some of the officers here.
Prince Bhawani of Jaipur arrived, resplendent in breeches and boots, to watch us work. The women in the company collapsed at his splendid appearance and he promised to come and have a drink tonight.
Two of the unit down with Delhi-belly . . . and one Indian assistant bitten in the calf by an angry mother monkey· Here we go!
TUESDAY
Shooting out at the airport. Scenes of wounded arriving back from Burma. Nostalgia again. I saw so much of this before.
John Fraser rode on a mule for five hours to look at an Indian village. There is determination for you … unfortunately, he can hardly stand today … and looks rather like one of the war-wounded.
WEDNESDAY
Leave at first light for our journey down to Agra. A wonderful trip along the great Calcutta Trunk … one of the most famous roads in Asia, originally the great caravan route from the north.
Through countless little mud-walled villages, gay with parrots and monkeys and women washing at the water-holes, dressed in all the colours of the rainbow.
THURSDAY
No one is going to believe this: as we dressed at six-thirty this morning for our first shots on the terrace of the Taj Mahal … it started to RAIN. However, after an hour we were ferried across the Jumna river to the bank opposite the Taj and shot one of the many moving love scenes in the film.
The skies cleared at lunchtime. And a part from one water buffalo, who got over-excited and charged us, the day was without incident…
Later in the evening I had to pose for pictures with a beastly ten-foot python. The usual publicist’s delight: “Snake round star’s neck.” This snake was half dead, I thought, until it started to squeeze rather too hard. Plaintively, I asked the cameraman, George Ward, to get it removed before the company had to recast the film.
George is noted for being deeply polite. He turned to the Indian interpreter and said : “Mickey … that is if I may call you that? … would you be so kind as to ask the snake keeper to remove the python from Mr. Bogarde’s neck? It’s squeezing him a little.”
By the time all this was said Mr. Bogarde was blue in the face and bulging at the eyes. Eventually I was eased from my unpleasant situation. I stamped off hating them all … and bought a lot of silk scarves I didn’t want at all to calm my nerves.
Her First Snake Fight
Yoko saw her first snake fight with a mongoose … and wvas delighted. The snake seemed to be dead and everyone was petting the mongoose and saying how clever it was to kill a snake, when the snake recovered amongst us all and sped hissing in all directions. Yoko ran very fast on high heels. I STILL LOVE India.
FRIDAY
Shooting in the gardens of the Taj Mahal. Wonderful – until the teenagers heard that we were there. Then all hell let loose. After a time Ralph had to get us driven away at high speed before the thing got out of hand.
The hotel proprietor told us that, when an Indian company had been shooting there, the teenagers chucked the male star into the fountains and chased the female star back to the hotel where they smashed all the windows of her room to watch her having a shower!
This evening the local cinema manager called to say that he had got a copy of one of my most famous films and would I do him the honour of making a personal appearance?
I politely asked him what the film was and with a beaming smile he said it was Penny Princess. Now this is one film I try to forget.
They saw the film all by themselves next day. You really can’ t win, can vou? But I DO ADORE India …
