SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE (2008)

director: Danny Boyle


There's something about SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE that left a bad taste in my mouth. It's not the film itself, which is made in top-notch quality, boasts a lovely handful of new and veteran Bollywood talent, and sets a smile on your face at the end of it which will have you leaving your seat with an air of satisfaction that can only be acquired through a supreme Bollywood dance number (this one ends on a lighter version of one).

Perhaps the bad taste came from the glossy shellacked bagel-bite of social apathy that seems to seethe through the cracks of this film. It sure looks like an Indian film, but hold on there a second... why is it obviously being marketed to an English-speaking audience?... Oh, it's a British film, that's why. Essentially the British are reaping economic and artistic awards off the backs of India. And here I was thinking they gave up sovereignty over a century ago.

To be sure, the story is inspiring enough. Essentially a lower-class, uneducated citizen manages to go from just that to an almost mythic hero overnight thanks to a televised game show. The draw is rendered thus: How did the slumdog win a million? It's a multiple choice question, and the answer is, of course, D: 'it is written' or, if you're secular 'it is destiny'. The rags-to-riches story introduces us to Dev Patel, sitting in his contestants chair, being handed questions from the host, but really from God, as the kid had not only already answered each question at some point in his life, but had answered each question in sequential order. I suppose this is more for our benefit than his, as the movie seems less concerned with showing us his winning effort and more concerned with giving us a look at a “slumdog's” life. Essentially you grow up to be orphaned at a young age, exploited in every possible way, and to even have the few good things in your life be stolen away from you (usually by those closest to you). At the end of the movie everybody redeems themselves, or dies... or both. And then there is a lovely kiss and a nice Bollywood dance number and everyone goes home happy. It's like cotton candy dipped in shit and come up smelling like roses. You just keep telling yourself its chocolate... or something.

7.66/10