Rags to riches, Mumbai-style

Rating: 10/10 (6 September 2010)

In an age of over-done and unoriginal productions, what remains a shining beacon of hope for today's contemporary theatre-goer are fresh screenplay writers like Simon Beaufoy, who offer a diversity in set-in- stone film genres and proceed to mix them up, evoke their underlying significance and define a far more secular and appreciative medium. Slumdog Millionaire is such a film, and one fortunate enough to fall into the hands of eccentrically versatile director Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, 28 Days Later), whose pragmatic approach to filmmaking is thankfully matched by his avant-garde visual techniques, and daring cinematographer Anthony Don Mantle (also a contributor to 28 Days Later), a rare talent who brings his locations to life, presenting them not only as settings but separate characters, as central to the plot as the actors.
An exercise in the concepts of ever-lasting love, true knowledge and, quite suitably above all else, destiny, Slumdog is a film made to please and does so resoundingly without even considering to cheat the viewer. This legitimacy is most clear in the hazardous and unstable (not by choice) relationship that is the affection between the main character Jamal and his child-hood love Latika. Leading an eventful and not altogether pleasant existence in poverty-stricken Mumbai, Jamal is searching for the elusive Latika (kidnapped by an extortionist of child "performers") and appears on the Indian syndicate of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? so as to indicate to her his whereabouts.
After approximately a decade of searching, Jamal is still compelled to seek his long-lost love and simply be with her, by any means necessary. And the audience will choose to believe Jamal could remain this dedicated, despite the odds, after such a length of time. They are not forced to believe it out of pressure from the plot's consistency, but instead accept it by choice and, what's more, care about both the characters, in part due to the emotionally overwhelming chemistry between actors Patel and Pinto (Jamal and Latika, respectively). Filmmaking at its best struggles to achieve this sincerity.
It is also quite refreshing to witness a film that acknowledges a life of such adversity as Jamal's as not only something that hardens one's character and strengthens moral fibre, but also incurs the obtainment of true knowledge. Of course, this is represented cryptically by Jamal's ability to answer a random assortment of questions that by chance (or fate) he knows the answers to, but the symbolism of his pure, raw intelligence is not lost, especially during a scene in which he answers a question about the location of a district in London not based on any formerly gained information but simply through the application of logic. Ultimately, however, Slumdog Millionaire is a film that is established on the premise of fate and the ideal notion that if it is meant to be, then "it is written." To this reasoning, it is inevitable that Jamal and Latika will wind up together in each others' arms, their quests fulfilled, their undying love satisfied etc. But while the audience may never truly doubt this will be the film's conclusion, all of the misfortune and hardship that precedes it compels the viewer to hope for it all the more.
The underlying beauty and clarity of one of the closing scenes of Slumdog is arguably the film's strongest moments, in which Jamal is asked the final question. He doesn't know the answer, to everyone's surprise and so uses his remaining life-line to call his brother Salim, who happens to be working for the man who has kidnapped Latika. Conveniently enough (in the least cynical sense possible) while watching Jamal's run of good luck, Salim encounters a change of heart and allows Latika to escape with his phone. And so she answers After having an intimate albeit brief discussion with Latika, during which she supplied no answer to the final question (but speaks the words "I am yours" in Hindi), Jamal is once more asked to answer the question. He chooses A "A because?" "Just A because A."
Then something unexpected happens: Jamal is right! What the viewer might assume would be forfeited in the place of love becomes in reality an additional gain. He wins the grand prize of 20 million rupees, and the entire country goes wild. The rags to riches story has finally come true; they have witnessed the rebirth of a slumdog, and no-one could be happier. Even the film's audience will feel a sense of euphoria at this unanticipated victory. The only person, in fact, who couldn't care less is Jamal. The celebration surrounding him, the studio audience cheering his name and the game show host dancing, Jamal is simply staring into space, a discreet smile on his lips, thinking only of Latika.
The next immediate scene is Jamal sitting by himself at a train station, dressed in a plain shirt with raggedy jeans and with no briefcase or over-sized cheque about his person. One can only expect (or hope) that maybe straight after the previous scene, while the festivity was still rife around him and everyone was too excited to notice, perhaps Jamal simply stood up, walked around his chair over to the studio door, looked once over his shoulder, smiled and walked out. I'd like that.
(Final Note: The Bollywood-esquire dance scene during the final credits, to the award-winning original song "Jai Ho" by A. R. Rahman and choreographed by Longinus Fernandes, is kick-ass! Is time perhaps for the introduction of Best Choreography at the Academy?)