Slumdog Millionaire

Why do so many people watch this?

Because it's an escape.

The television program in question is Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. The country is India, more specifically Mumbai. Known as Bombay until 1996, Mumbai has become the second most populous city in the world. With the name change sprouted associated affluence. Commerce flows from the multitudes of corporations that have outsourced their staffs to this Indian capital. Condos and skyscrapers dot the landscape in stark constrast to the piles of rubble just meters away. More than 60% of the population lives in slums. What do the nouveau riche think as they gaze from their bay windows to look down on rows of tin roofed shacks? Are the socialites and tourists uncomfortable when they gaze upon the masses of dirt poor citizens who carry babies as often to get more panhandling money as they do for more legitamate parental responsibilities?

So this TV show, an Eastern version of the popular American phenomenom, is a smash. No wonder. The city streets remain littered, the job prospects few for the residents who never had the sort of opportunities of those who've come to bask in their wealth. The show provides hope. See how masses of Maharashtrians, Gujaratis, Tamils, and Sindhis alike huddle in front of store windows to find televisions, to watch perhaps a fellow Mumbaiite take a crack at millions of rupees.

Jamal is such a contender. A lowly chai runner for a telemarketing firm, the teen continues to confound the show's host and the growing legion of viewers as he gets every question correct. He gets as far as 10 million rupees! How is this possible? A poor boy who hailed from the slums of Dharavi or its equivalent? Impossible! The show's host certainly thinks so, enough to have the boy ambushed one night by the police and taken for interrogation, which includes torture.

Jamal is tough. Finally, the Inspector lays off the electric shocks and lets the kid talk. We learn the story of Jamal's childhood, filled with pathos. Along the way, we are shown how the boy would come to learn about famous Indian poets, footballers, and a certain American whose likeness graces the $100 bill. Knowledge that would get him closer to those millions. How could Jamal know about Ben Franklin, and not know that Ghandi is on the rupee note?? It doesn't make sense to the Inspector. But as each Millionaire question is recalled, as the Inspector (and viewer) are recounted a tale of tragedy that shapes Jamal, we learn as well.

We learn that the knowledge we acquire as a result of life experience is the sum of who we are. What we are exposed to (voluntarily or otherwise), ingrains us. Sculpts our worldview. But the triumph of the human spirit can also trump even the most corrosive influences. That little thing called Love can indeed conquer all. When we meet Jamal's childhood crush, Latika, we are treated to an emotionally charged journey we won't soon forget. Love may temporarily be violently shoved aside in the midst of corruption and avarice, but it cannot be buried. It will emerge victorious. It will transform even the most jaded.

Director Danny Boyle's SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE is an exhilirating cinematic treat. It isn't merely watched, but experienced. With a kineticism that reminded me of the director's TRAINSPOTTING from over a decade ago, this movie runs and jumps and frantically tells this tale with the sort of enthusiasm that isn't seen too often these days. Underneath the flash is a fairly traditional narrative. Boy grows up poor. Is separated from sibling and childhood love. Is reunited. Escapes peril. Gets opportunity. Loses girl. And so on. In the wrong hands, this story could've been syrupy and gag inducingly cute. Boyle doesn't pour on the sentiment, but rather allows the inherent goodness to flow freely. I won't say if Jamal "wins" on the game show, but how that very term is defined is really the whole idea of this film. Pretty simple, really.

Despite Boyle's many darkly cynical films of the past, SLUMDOG is unabashedly hopeful. Took me by surprise. I wasn't sure what to expect with this. Certainly not such a positive, even gleeful movie. I would even go as far as to say that if Frank Capra were alive today, cranking out films in Bollywood, he'd make something like this. Filled with vivid evocations of Indian life (rich and in want), bouncy music, hyperactive lenses and editing, and an indomitable spirit of joy, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE is a sure-fire crowd pleaser. My small theater was full, and the appluase was there at the end. It would be comforting to know that a worthwhile film such as this becomes a box office champ.

A great film? I have to think that over. As I said, the screenplay is a bit conventional, and many questions will likely flood your mind if you think it all over too hard. When that happens, remember that infectiously festive end credit sequence. The parade of life. The ultimate joy. That makes it all worthwhile.

NOTE: The film's "R" rating is really unnecessary, in my not so humble opinion. No one should be excluded from seeing this wonderful film. There is some violence but far less than say, THE DARK KNIGHT, which was inexplicably rated PG-13.