Offering to review Slumdog Millionaire at first seemed like an easy post. Watch. Write. Post. No brainer, right?  But after I sat down and watched it, and thought about it ever since, I’m a little more than overwhelmed at where to start. I guess first, I’ll start with a disclaimer: There are no star ratings or thumbs doing anything here, just an assessment of a very publicly hyped film by a 31 year old American female.
 

*****SPOILER ALERT!******

So, here goes, Slumdog Millionaire was one of the first films in a very long, long time that made me laugh, cry, cringe, cheer and find myself thinking about over and over.

I loved the story. My favorite book is Tom Sawyer and I instantly took to Jamal and his Tom Sawyer-esque qualities. Running through the slums, playing hooky at school, getting rapped on the head, hustling and sometimes getting outwitted by other, meaner boys. But always, always with a heart of gold and a spirit that doesn’t die.  Jamal was the quintessential mischievous boy, on a quest for survival.

Second, this story really could’ve been told anywhere in the world, but was set in India, a place I have never been to, and know little about it’s history. I especially don’t know about the slum life of Mumbai. This made me, the viewer, almost on the same level as the children in the film. I had no idea what their world was like, who to trust, what kind of people there were out there and what to do. I, like Jamal, Salim and Latika was just trying to figure it all out.  The unfamiliarity of the setting played perfectly to me as an American viewer.

Third, the things these children went through were so horrifically gruesome and cruel. Most films tend to only take a coming of age story from birth to death, and as a viewer you are strung along this heart-wrenching journey with little time to breathe. It’s not that I am against sad or realistic portrayals of struggle in film, but I usually can’t bring myself to go see them in the theatre or rent them. It’s the “Schindler’s List” effect. Every time I think “I should really see Schindler’s List." I also think “Oh, man, just not today.” A lot of people are like this, they need movies as a release.

What Slumdog Millionaire did, which is brilliant in my book, is they let you know from the very beginning that Jamal was going to be OK. In fact, he’d find himself on a TV show, becoming a millionaire. So just when things got too heavy, BAM! You were brought back to current day, where Jamal is alive and well.

Fourth, the juxtaposition of the Gameshow to Real Life was poignant. Oh, we as Americans sit back and watch our reality television, biting our fingernails at the canned studio “tension.”  The music, the lights, the host that stares you in the face to make it all seem so serious and life-altering. What Slumdog did was turn that entire genre on it’s head. The tension filled gameshow actually became a release of tension. When we were brought back to the show after watching Jamal’s scar bearing childhood, we were relieved! The show was nothing. The money, though life-changing, was meaningless.

Fifth, there were so many excellent twists and turns and revelations in the script and story that I was constantly kept on my toes.  For instance, in the first part of the film I thought Jamal was beaten by men as training, so he would know the answers and win money for them. I was also constantly baited and switched by Samil. I never know where Latika would be found next, or if she would be found at all. And, having the boys be older as they rolled off the train and found themselves upon Taj Mahal made me laugh out loud. 

The screenwriting was stupendous. What a fantastic concept so flawlessly brought to life. A story of a boy’s life told through the questions that he is asked when as an adult he is brought onto the gameshow “Who wants to be a Millionaire?” Great concept and flawless execution.

The end of the film brought us finally into the reality of a Hollywood movie, complete with the girl rushing in traffic to meet her long lost love. A phone call that almost goes unanswered. A death and redemption to set a brother free. The very slums that spurned Jamal, are now unified to now cheer him on to glory. The hail mary question that ties it all together. The bollywood dancing at the end, complete with the child actors. Slam dunks, all.

Lastly, I will, forever, have the following scene in my memory:  Jamal looking at his prized photograph, pinching his nose and plunging into the raw sewage below, running to see his idol and, then, his war-cry of happiness, when covered in crap he gets the autograph.

Sheer joy, while covered in crap.

If that isn’t what life is all about? I don’t know what is.