Filth, Fate and Fortune

There are films and then there are films. Some are romantic comedies, and some are action thrillers. Certain others are period dramas, musicals or tragedies. And then there are the others: those that are so wildly original and distinctive that they do not belong to the boundaries of any genre. I experienced one such film recently: Slumdog Millionaire.

A modern, magical fairytale finds its setting in the grimmest and darkest spaces of human habitat that you can envisage. Filth, hatred, blood and moral decay form the backdrop of a heart-warming story of love and destiny, told with inimitable panache and confidence. I loved every bit of it!

No one can question the technical brilliance of the film. The cinematography is dazzling and the editing dizzying: perfect for Boyle’s style of restless storytelling. Rarely has a moving camera romanced poverty, heaps of garbage and narrow, crowded lanes so skilfully and stylishly. And then there’s the break-neck tempo of the film, which lends the narrative an unyielding energy and effervescence as it craftily weaves back and forth in time. Add to that the stupendous and rousing score of Rahman, and you have an irresistible cinematic concoction.

The screenplay is a smart adaptation, with a tremendous flair and flavour. There isn’t any great depth in the story or scope for character development and the manner in which everything falls into place so seamlessly is undeniably far fetched, pushing every conceivable limit of probability. But then that is exactly what gives the film the wonderful quality of an enchanted fairytale – the very reason it has become so universally appealing and such a huge crowd-pleaser.

And a large chunk of the credit must go to the person who has put it all together: the film’s remarkable director, Daniel Boyle. A film derives its form and character from the creative vision of its director and Slumdog Millionaire is no exception. Boyle’s uninhibited imagination and incredible conviction shines throughout the length of the film. And to be able to extract such effortless and memorable performances from its young actors is an amazing accomplishment as well (the performances of the three boys playing Jamal of different ages deserve a special mention here). The way in which the protagonist’s forced growth is mirrored by the meteoric development of the city was also a nice touch. Besides, what makes the director’s effort even more noteworthy is the fact that he is so alien to the land that he has embraced on celluloid. Danny, take a bow!

The film’s success has been exactly like that of the protagonist in its story: improbable. Slumdog Millionaire is by no means an unworthy film, but an essential factor that has worked in its favour is the dominant perception (right or wrong) of India among western and European audiences as an exotic land of corruption, crime and catharsis: notions which the story thrives on. But it is only an artistic work after all, and should be celebrated in that very light, instead of construing it as commentary of any form on India itself. It is therefore saddening to hear of criticism on this front from noted persons who are in the very same field. Equally surprising is the claim of the Indian film industry in its success, because Slumdog Millionaire is as much an Indian film as Chandini Chowk to China is a Chinese film.

Above all though, what worked for me was the simple message of the film. The cop questioning the boy learns that he is not interested in the money that he is seemingly chasing. After having won millions on the game show, Jamal returns to the train station, waiting for the love of his life, without a care in the world for the money. She returns to him, and as he draws closer to kiss her, the slumdog becomes a millionaire.

Miles away, the loveless life of his brother comes to an end in a tub full of money, after he whispers, “God is great.” He realises only too late the simple truth that his little brother had known all along. It is a sensational sequence that elevates a superb film to an unforgettable cinematic triumph.