Best Picture: #81
Original Release Date: November 12, 2008
Rating: R
Runtime: 2 hours
Director: Danny Boyle
Quick Impressions:
Slumdog Millionaire is a much different watch after you’ve had a successful run on a gameshow. Now that I’ve been on Jeopardy!, one of these scenes engendered a greater sense of panic in me than any horror movie. For the scene’s duration, I felt like a xenomorph would burst out of my soul.
Now, let me be clear. I’ve watched this Best Picture winner before.
In fact, not only did I watch Slumdog Millionaire back in 2008, but I’d also started writing up my own thoughts on all Oscar nominated movies by then, even though I wasn’t showing them to anyone. So I didn’t sit passively in the theater letting the trains run past my eyes for two hours. I watched Slumdog Millionaire carefully, critically. I thought about it. I discussed it with my husband, my mother, my aunt and her husband at my dad’s family reunion. I was paying attention. I promise.
But for some reason, I told my daughter, “Come on! You’ll love Slumdog Millionaire. It’s a feel-good movie!”
About thirty minutes in, my daughter was so outraged and bewildered. She was like, “Mom! Why did you tell me this was a feel-good movie?”
“Well…” I fumbled, “it has a happy ending.”
Skeptically, she questioned, “It does…?”
“Well…” I insisted, “it has a catchy song.”
My husband jumped in, “Translation. She doesn’t remember it at all.”
I remembered the ending. That’s what always sticks in my mind about Slumdog Millionaire, that enthusiastic performance of “Jai Ho,” as a show stopping curtain call. And that scene does make you feel good. At least, it made me feel good.
“And it was a very popular song!” I insisted.
“I don’t believe that,” my daughter said. “I’ve never heard this song!”
“Well, you weren’t born!” I cried. She was born in time for the Oscar ceremony. That’s a rare one I didn’t watch live because she was in the NICU. My mom recorded it for me.
The Good:
When I mentally filed away Slumdog Millionaire as “a feel-good movie,” what I meant was, “a movie I don’t connect to much that everyone else considers a rousing crowd-pleaser.” Oddly, at the time, I didn’t find the movie cerebral enough. Admittedly, it has a compelling story structure and winning performances. It introduced me to Dev Patel, Freida Pinto, Irrfan Khan, and Anil Kapoor. (The way he says, “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” may be my favorite thing about the movie. I love his pronunciation of the word “millionaire.” He makes it sound so exciting and fast-paced.) On this watch, I particularly liked the performance of the older Salim (Madhur Mittal). I also couldn’t help noticing his resemblance to Bruno Mars. I’ve never had any complaints about the cast.
Compared to No Country for Old Men, though, the story is so neat. And compared to The Departed, the protagonist is so…uncomplicated. He’s virtuous. These thoughts seem indefensible now. On a re-watch, I demanded, “Well, what did you want from this movie, Sarah? This is the most harrowing human tragedy! What Jamal has to endure…” There are no words.
It’s fun to imagine the film as a series of escalating Jeopardy! anecdotes. Instead of getting grilled in the police station, what if Jamal were parceling out these stories, one anecdote at a time while chatting with Ken Jennings on the Alex Trebek stage? It’s too bad Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? didn’t ask its contestants to reveal how they know the answer on stage instead of in the police station. What a show they would have gotten then!
I do like the structure of the story, especially because we don’t realize we’re watching a mystery until its resolution. As the story progresses, we get clue after clue, but we just think of them as bits of trivia tied to painful memories when, in fact, a narrative is building. Just when we think we understand how the formula works—Jamal answers a question correctly; the police ask how he knew the answer; he tells a painful story from his childhood in which that information happens to figure prominently—we get the rug pulled out from under us. We learn that these bits of information aren’t random at all. Jamal’s past is driving his present. Why did he want to be on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, anyway? (That’s a question they ask when you try out for Jeopardy!. I never thought of why I wanted to be on Jeopardy! until I was asked, but it’s such an important question.) This viewing experience is a little like watching How I Met Your Mother (with a more satisfying ending, depending on who you ask).
What I do like is the scene at the very end of Jamal’s game of Millionaire. He doesn’t care about winning the money. He completes his quest and wins his game when Latika picks up the phone. She is the answer to the million-dollar question. That is romantic (and mystical). But it’s more than that. For Jamal, the million-dollar question has always been, “Who is the third musketeer?” The friend he phones is his brother. When Latika answers, it proves Salim has finally answered the question correctly (from Jamal’s point of view). At the very least, it shows that Salim respects Jamal’s answer to the question and the importance he places on it.
After the movie, my daughter shared that, like me, what she likes best about Slumdog Millionaire, is the evolution of the relationship between the brothers. On this watch, I found Salim the most compelling character by far. Slumdog Millionaire does a good job of exploring Jamal’s relationship with his brother. That’s the story with the measured pacing, proper development (and realistic ending). The romance with Latika and the adventure of the gameshow create a good gimmick and a delightful ending, but it’s the progression of Jamal’s story with Salim that rings true. Though Jamal is a dreamer, it’s hard not to credit Salim with driving most of the movie’s action. In the end, both brothers end up buried in money.
Best Scene:
On this watch, the scene that resonated most is that awful moment in the bathroom when the host tips Jamal off about the answer to the next question by writing a letter in steam on the mirror.
Of course, Jamal doesn’t fall for this. He’s learned all the answers from his own life experiences, and if his life has taught him anything, it’s never to trust anyone (particularly not anyone in a position of power who offers an unexpected kindness).
On a first watch, I don’t remember this moment bothering me much. (I mean, of course, you wonder if the host is being honest, and you hope Jamal won’t make a mistake.)
Now that I’ve been on Jeopardy!, though, this played out like a horror movie. Watching it gave me a feeling of intense, panic-like dread. It was a physical feeling. It goes back to a primal terror of mine. What if the good people are the bad people? If the people you trust are the ones trying to hurt you—oh no! Why would good people hurt you? Well, maybe you’re bad, and they can tell, and they’ll get you!
Articulated, this could not sound more bizarre. I assure you, I do not go through my daily life assuming random people are out to get me. When I get stressed though, I do sometimes manifest a weird quirk. If I like people, then they must hate me. If I trust people, then I’m playing right into their hands! They’ll probably get me, and I’ll deserve it. Aaah!
Alex Trebek was so nice to me. Imagine, though, if he’d been evil and out to get me. Yikes! What if he tried to give me the correct responses? I loved being on Jeopardy!, and I have such an irrepressible desire to be compliant and helpful. This worked out on Jeopardy! because everyone was professional, respectful, and helpful to me. But what happens if you go on TV, and you’re told, “Get in this cage and eat these crickets!” I know now that if Alex Trebek told me that, I would get in that cage and eat those crickets. Then what if he said disdainfully, “Oh, you like eating crickets, huh?” (Okay, it sounds funny if I read it out loud in his voice. But in my head, it is so scary!)
Obviously when I was on Jeopardy!, nobody offered me the correct responses (or made me eat crickets). (At the ToC, we got Wolfgang Puck.) They were all so professional and conscientious. I still had internalized mini-bouts of paranoia, though, terrified because everyone was so nice. (Imagine. “Would you like a bottle of water, Sarah?” And I run away screaming like they’re Banquo’s ghost!) The stakes are so low. You’re playing a game. It shouldn’t be hard to trust thorough professionals who are pointedly going out of their way to be kind and helpful. I sometimes feel like Homer in the “Cape Feare” episode of The Simpsons. (“Now when I say, ‘Hello Mr. Thompson,’ and press down on your foot, you smile and nod.” I identify with that sad, confused look on Homer’s face as he glances down bewildered at his foot being stepped on!)
The pressure of the stage makes you so vulnerable. For me, flashes of paranoid fear would come and go from second to second. Even as it’s happening, you’re so painfully aware it’s irrational and, frankly, offensive. And this happens when everyone’s behavior is exemplary. Imagine if between games, Alex slid over and slipped me an answer key for the next board. (I’d have to decipher and memorize it so fast! That’s so impractical! Where would either of us hide it? Maybe he would wear it as a tie!) Obviously, this would never happen at Jeopardy! That’s why it’s such an absurd, silly joke. It’s also why imagining it makes such a horrific nightmare.
It’s just weird what a visceral reaction I had when I watched that bathroom scene this time. I think it upset me more than Jamal, who’s always ready for anything.
Best Action Sequence:
The social injustice and relentless trauma in all of Jamal’s flashbacks spoke to me much more on this watch.
I am a person who struggles with endless rumination and crushing feelings of guilt as I reflect on potential harm I may have caused myself or others. Life is hard for everyone, and I’m an everyone. Watch Barbie, and if that doesn’t make it clear, then also watch Oppenheimer. In tandem, this summer’s box office hits perfectly illustrate why everyone is always miserable and drowning in unreasonable societal expectations, existential crises, and crushing feelings of inadequacy.
There’s a scene in this film in which Jamal’s mother dies when a militant mob attacks his neighborhood. (This appears to be a religion-based hate crime.) Watching the boys escape from the mob’s fire and bloodshed, I suddenly felt profoundly disoriented, distanced from the action on the screen.
“Wait a minute,” I thought. “Why do people do things like this?” Every day, I feel so guilty. I worry about behaving strangely, saying the wrong thing, responding insensitively to a question. I watch this and think, “Why would you ever decide this is the right choice? All you have to do is not attack and butcher people. How hard is that?”
It’s so easy not to attack and kill unarmed strangers. The laziest person on earth could do it with no effort. Just do nothing! Ta-da! Granted, ideological differences are legitimately hard to sort out and resolve. I tie myself in psychological knots daily trying to reconcile my religious beliefs and my thoughts on social justice, good parenting, and just general normalcy. But that has nothing to do with attacking people with blunt instruments and fire. Just never do that. Ever. It’s so avoidable. If you’ve got so much nervous energy, just go be on a gameshow. That’ll keep you busy.
I’ve lost patience for violence of this kind. Here is my PSA. Do not murder random strangers. If you didn’t notice from my ramblings about paranoia, I’m a complete lunatic. I am always upset about everything, and in my life, I have murdered zero innocent bystanders. If I can do it, you can, too.
This scene had a huge effect on me this time. Every day, we make choices. Any one of them could be wrong (and probably is from some point of view). Our passive vices cause massive chaos. If you drink from plastic straws, it’s probably your fault it’s been 110 degrees in Texas all summer. But how hard is it not to murder defenseless women and children and set neighborhoods on fire? I feel guilty worrying I don’t do enough to stop injustice like this. But think. If nobody did it, it would never happen.
It’s a very effective scene. As a small child Jamal escaped bloodshed like this, and nobody cared. Now he’s being electrocuted by police because somebody suspects he might have cheated on a gameshow.
Best Scene Visually:
There’s an even earlier scene when a celebrity visits his village, and Jamal is locked inside an outhouse. Because he wants an autograph so badly, he jumps out through the bottom, plunging into a pit of excrement. Then he races through the crowd completely covered in filth, screaming the celebrity’s name. The crowd parts around him, and he gets that autograph. (“That’s how I got on Jeopardy!” I joked.)
This visual metaphor is the movie in miniature. Jamal comes from the slums and desperately fights all the way to victory motivated by his desire to reach someone he loves.
We get more visually oriented foreshadowing later when boys are “rewarded” for learning to sing well in much the same way Jamal is later “rewarded” for performing well on the show.
The Negatives:
Probably the film’s biggest weakness is that its last act is so much more exciting than its beginning. The pace picks up dramatically once adult Salim and Latika enter the story. The finale is truly gripping. My daughter was on the edge of her seat. “If he doesn’t win, I’m going to die!” she declared. I was also overwhelmed with suspense that felt physically painful—and I had seen the movie before and remembered the ending (if nothing else) quite clearly.
My daughter reported that the early flashbacks felt properly paced to her. She thought the backstory progressed evenly at intervals that were easy to identify. She noted that as the flashbacks drew closer to present day events, the timeline became a bit scrambled and confusing to her.
I had the opposite experience. I find the flashbacks slow and depressing. The story they reveal is so tragic and traumatic. And they don’t appear to be building to anything. The first two-thirds of the movie appears to be telling the story, “This young man knew the answers on a gameshow because he had such a hard life.” For me, the story picks up in the final third of the film because we finally see Jamal’s motivations (and intended trajectory) clearly.
So we both think the film has slight pacing problems. For me, they come in the beginning, for her, at the end.
I know I should like this movie more than I do. Ordinarily, I love material about fate and destiny. Nothing thrills me more than a highly contrived (impeccably crafted) story that magically works out implausibly well. I mean, who doesn’t like that? That’s great. I’m also big on impossible love stories, even though I relentlessly point out their implausibility as I enjoy them. I have to temper my romantic nature. I find it hard to resist having adventures because…they’re so fun. Who doesn’t like romance?
But…I don’t know. Maybe I see too much of myself in Jamal. He shows up to rescue Latika and wants her to come away with him. She asks practical questions like where will they go, what will they live on? He looks at her with such blank puzzlement that it’s easy to imagine fax machine noises. That reminds me of me. (“What’s our escape plan, Sarah?” “Uh…we’re gonna get away!”)
I mentioned How I Met Your Mother earlier. On reflection, the character development in this reminds me of How I Met Your Mother, too. Jamal is persistently in love with Latika. So he says. (How well could he actually know her, though? They’ve been estranged for so long! They only really knew each other as young children in an intensely traumatic, abusive environment.) He’s driven by this love to risk incredible (frankly foolhardy) things. His plan for their future is to go on a gameshow. It’s a little sketchy. I don’t know.
During the Taj Mahal sequence of the film, I said with a despondent sigh, “I would not want to be a thief.”
Dramatically, my daughter said, “Mom! Ugh! Quit being racist! Have you noticed when you watch Oliver! you do not have these compunctions?”
She was just joking, but I started thinking about what she said. I remember near the film’s release, there was some controversy about its depiction of the poor in India being inaccurate. I don’t have the experience to comment on that.
My daughter is right that normally the idea of being a pickpocket appeals to me. But what appeals to me most about Oliver! is the death of Nancy, and I’m similarly drawn to the Salim storyline in this movie. Oliver, you’ll notice, is not a thief. He doesn’t pick pockets, really. He just stands around looking simultaneously guilty and innocent (like me). What bothers me about this story is that Jamal is horribly abused, and then he must turn around and do vicious things himself to survive. (This film is kind of Dickensian in feel, though. It’s so atmospheric. There’s such rampant social injustice. And the astonishing Millionaire win is quite similar to the whole, “He looks so much like my niece who ran away,” thing. (That’s in the movie, Oliver! The novel complicates all the relationships.))
In the end, Slumdog Millionaire is a bit too sad for my tastes. Most likely, the ending is the only part I remembered clearly because that’s the part I enjoy. The film is well crafted and beautifully acted, but it’s hard to watch children suffering.
Overall:
Because my daughter’s home from school recovering from a second-degree sunburn, we found time to watch a couple of Oscar movies this week. Unfortunately, I got so excited to show her The King’s Speech, I forgot about The Hurt Locker. So now, I’ve messed up our whole project. We’re supposed to be watching these Best Picture winners in order, and we’ve accidentally skipped from Slumdog Millionaire to The King’s Speech. (Eerily, just after we watched Michael Gambon, as George V, pass away on screen, I saw the news that he had died in real life.)
I can’t believe I forgot The Hurt Locker. I’ve barely seen that one. I probably forgot it because I watched all the Oscar movies on Netflix DVDs that year since my daughter was an infant, and we avoided going out. It was hard to watch in the same room with a baby who attentively watched anything I put on TV.
At any rate, Slumdog Millionaire is a more gripping movie than I’d remembered. I was especially captivated by the Salim storyline on this viewing.