Best in Show

A review of Slumdog Millionaire.

Slumdog Millionaire (“Slumdog”), adapted by Simon Beaufoy (Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day, The Full Monty) from a novel by Vikas Swarup (disclaimer: I have not read the source material) and directed by Danny Boyle (Millions, 28 Days Later) (with a co-director credit to Loveleen Tandan), is a visceral, jarring, loud film. The experience of seeing Slumdog felt assaultive at times, but unlike in a typical Hollywood shoot-‘em-up or gore-fest, the violence and graphic portrayal of foul and disturbing events was in the service of skillful storytelling. Slumdog is simultaneously a phenomenal portrayal of a world that’s completely new and utterly foreign to me and the retelling of the oldest story ever told: boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy make it his life’s quest to re-attain girl.

While Slumdog may be a recycling of an oft-told tale, its take on it is refreshingly and engagingly original. Slumdog tells the story of brothers Jamal and Salim Malik who grow up, literally, in the dumps of Mumbai. Jamal and Salim are orphaned at a very young age and must fend for themselves in the filthiest conditions imaginable. Check that, the garbage pits and nooks of the slums where the brothers hole up to survive are indescribably squalid. Yet even when they have less than nothing themselves, younger brother Jamal reaches out with his kind heart to fellow orphan Latika to befriend and help her in whatever way he can. Before long, the gang of three get mixed up with actual gangsters, living well for a time until danger presents itself and Salim must make a difficult choice. Jamal and Salim escape, but must leave Latika behind, and it is Jamal’s quest to find Latika that preoccupies his odyssey for the rest of the film. Ultimately, Jamal appears on the Indian version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” for the purpose of reuniting with Latika, knowing that it is a show that she watches.

Slumdog uses a very clever storytelling device, framing the narrative around the foundation for Jamal’s knowledge of the answers for the “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” questions with which he is confronted in his appearance on the show. This results in a number of character-revealing vignettes that unfold more-or-less chronologically. But because of the device being utilized, we can jump in and out of various episodes of Jamal’s life without disrupting the flow of the film. It also builds energy and suspense into what might otherwise be flat scenes of the taping of a game show.

Mr. Boyle elicits similar energy out of the performance of his actors. As he did with Millions, Mr. Boyle works incredibly well with young actors, coaxing organic, convincing performances out of them, without crossing into cloying territory (always a danger with actors that young). The youngest versions of Jamal, Salim and Latika (Ayush Mahesh Khedekar, Azharuddin Mohammed Ismail and Rubiana Ali, respectively), in particular the charming Ms. Ali, were impressive in their handling of difficult material. There was something magnetic about Madhur Mittal’s performance as the oldest Salim as he managed to allow a glimpse of the sliver of Salim’s heart that was still preserved within his hardened exterior. And Dev Patel as present-day Jamal perfectly embodied the personification of a “slumdog,” from his posture to his body language and attitude. (The less said about – and by – the oldest version of Latika (Freida Pinto), the better. She’s awfully pretty to look at and… she’s pretty to look at.)

Slumdog is masterfully directed, integrating very strong and distinct music and with equally strong and distinct imagery, even managing to present subtitles in a clever and entertaining manner. It almost felt like a movie on steroids. But make no mistake about it, Slumdog is not for the faint of heart. It contains a horrifying portrayal of abject poverty. Some parts of the film were violent, raw and difficult to watch, but they were not gratuitous. So do yourself a favor and grit your way through them and go enjoy Slumdog on the big screen. And be sure to stay all the way through the end credits. You can thank me later.