With four months behind them and three days to go, at the beginning of February, The Film Works producer Paul Stephens has his cell phone turned on as he anxiously awaits news concerning a location crisis, just one of the things they have come to expect while shooting in Mumbai, India.

One of the central locations for Such A Long Journey is the Central Bank of India, which they had locked up and were ready to shoot. But following a bomb explosion in Mumbai central, and with the French Prime Minister visiting, the fear of terrorist activity has closed all public institutions to foreigners, leaving the crew out of a location.

Aside from this and a few other unavoidable setbacks, Stephens assures that everything surrounding the $4.5-million feature film shoot has been wonderful and relatively smooth, well… as smooth as it can go in Mumbai.

‘I think it is probably the most difficult city in the world to shoot in; logistically it’s a nightmare, the traffic and congestion is fantastic. But we certainly have the color and authenticity for the film as well as some tremendous performances,’ says Stephens.

A long peninsula with 12 million locals and one road traveling north and one going south, moving about the overpopulated Mumbai is a nightmare, something director Sturla Gunnarsson was experiencing first-hand during our conversation.

With the shooting day behind him, Gunnarsson is heading downtown for an Indian feast with friends, cell phone close at hand, also awaiting word on the botched locale. But before indulging in the foreign delights, just 20 kilometers up the road, there are two hours of traffic to battle.

Such A Long Journey is a Canada/u.k. coproduction based on the book by Rohinton Mistry, winner of the 1991 Governor General’s Award and a Booker Prize nominee. Sooni Taraporevala wrote the screenplay, Victor Solnicki is executive producer and Jan Kiesser is lensing the film about the life of an Indian bank clerk, Gustad Noble, played by Roshan Seth.

Alliance Releasing is the Canadian distributor and The Sales Company is distributing in the rest of the world.

Described by the director as an ‘archetypal story, made real by the simple observance of the rituals, details and humor of everyday life,’ Gustad’s life is turned around when an old friend, Major Jimmy Billimoria, offers him an opportunity to do something for his country. When the scheme goes wrong, Gustad must accept Jimmy in a new light and forgive the betrayal of their friendship.

Aside from the first ad contracting typhoid fever, numerous sprained ankles, the pollution problem, which Gunnarsson says makes Mexico City look ecologically safe, and just about everyone excluding himself (who knocks on wood as he speaks) sick at least once, he is very excited about the material and the rushes.

According to Gunnarsson, the noise, pollution and hundreds of curious onlookers who mob the scene whenever there is a camera in sight (and in one instance almost caused a riot), make Mumbai an extremely difficult place to shoot, but on the flip side, the director boasts, ‘We got stuff on screen that you could never imagine, it’s just unbelievable.’

Some of the locales for the two-month shoot include Crawford Market, Chor Bazaar, the Muslim district where they did some hidden camera work with Seth in the crowd, the financial district near Flora Fountain, a midtown district where they shot the Khodadad Building, and the red-light district, which in terms of security is a shoot-on-sight zone.

‘You have never seen anything like it,’ says Gunnarsson. ‘The beds are out on the street and there are rats and open sewers, brothels and cages. You have to bribe the gundas and then you have to deal with the various levels of police and security.’

Still stuck in traffic and still awaiting word about the bank shoot, a very calm and cool Gunnarsson, who has been in India since October, says over the delayed long-distance connection that despite it all he is in no rush to get home.

‘I don’t think I want to leave, I like it too much here. It’s an adventure, it’s such a fantastic place.’