The Daily Procrastinator

I would prefer not to piss off a nation of over a billion people, but it seems to me that India is a pretty messed-up country.

I hope that no citizens of Indian descent or even denizens of India who may happen across this blog take it personally. I will be the first to admit that my experience with other cultures is severely lacking: my international travel is limited to a couple across-the-border runs to Mexico during my undergrad days and two cruises to the Caribbean. I will also admit that basing one’s opinions about a country on a motion picture is a pretty stupid way of passing judgment.

My wife, however, travels extensively with her job and makes regular trips to India. So when she says, “Yeah, that’s pretty much how it is,” as I express my utter bewilderment after watching Slumdog Millionaire, I’m running with my initial impression.

Slumdog tells the tale of Jamal and Salim, two brothers, and Latika, the cute girl who falls in with them after they are orphaned in the Indian slums. Actually, “slums” is too nice of word. Jesus, even calling it “medieval” does the Middle Ages a disservice.

Regardless, the movie centers around Jamal’s appearance on the Indian version of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” in an effort to win Lakita. Sounds real cute, doesn’t it? Forget it. If the conditions these three faced growing up as portrayed in the film are even remotely realistic, that part of the world is severely lacking in common decency. And not to get too political in a movie review or anything, but for anyone in the “Bollywood” community to give the U.S. grief about our leaders without commenting on what the hell is going on in his own country is to ignore the gigantic timber wedged tightly between his eye and brain.

But I digress.

The questions Jamal faces during the game show track key events in the three leads’ lives (it’s like the questions were chosen specially for him or something), providing the framework for the flashbacks the story is told through. The manufacturer of a revolver, a certain song sung, and the identity of a famous actor (which produced a flashback that appalled me yet somehow drew laughs from the audience) are all intimately entwined in Jamal’s life, and presented in a compelling fashion. For example, he can tell you who’s pictured on the $100 dollar bill, but as for the quote on the Indian national flag, he’s lost. But why would he know it? What has India ever done for him and his friends?

Slumdog deserves the accolades it’s been getting in the press and is ultimately a hopeful movie. But anyone who describes it as “feel good” is taking a very simplistic view.