According to Metacritic, Danny Boyle’s new film Slumdog Millionaire has received universal critical acclaim. Based on those reviews–and my general admiration for Boyle’s freaky magic realism–I headed to Slumdog this afternoon.
And because I saw the movie near Lincoln Center, I was in a sold-out theater, which is one of the reasons I love New York. Where else could an indie film about a destitute Indian kid pack the rafters?
Of course, it’s not just Lincoln Center geeks who are being primised a good time. Critics are calling the movie a crowd-pleasing, romantic delight. In the New York Post, Lou Lumenick even insists that little kids should see it because “few movies ever have provided better and more entertaining lessons about the joys of learning.”
But I’m not sure anyone needs the Slumdog Millionaire curriculum.
I’ll break down what I learned… after the jump.
Warning: I’m going to discuss the entire plot.
Now don’t get me wrong… The movie doesn’t suck. Danny Boyle’s fairy tale logic entertains the hell out of me. It’s fun to accept that impoverished young Jamal (Dev Patel) has had just the right experiences to correctly answer almost every question on a round of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Along with Boyle’s dreamy camerawork, this conceit makes it clear we’re in a fable.
And the fantasy unfolds in a slum so awful that Hitler and Satan might peddle by on a tandem bicycle. That’s so disconcerting! When they’re happening in hell, what do these flights of fancy mean?
Well… they partly mean that everyone has the right to a magical life. I’ve always appreciated that Boyle fills his repulsive landscapes with charming, witty protagonists. We’re not supposed to feel sorry for these people. We’re supposed to cheer them on, which reminds us they’re like us. We can save our righteous pity for the characters in Hotel Rwanda.
But in Slumdog Millionaire, this relatability has troubling implications. The movie wants us to think Jamal’s wealth is virtuous.
That’s the message of the scenes immediately following his Millionaire victory. We see slum-dwellers cheering that he has escaped poverty, but we also see rich people crying with happiness, presumably because the kid can finally afford to eat their food instead of just serve it to them.
And in case that seems materialistic, the film presents an alternate route to wealth. Jamal’s brother Salim (Madhur Mittal) also gets rich and escapes the slum, but he does it by becoming a gangster’s murderous henchman. In a final plot twist, he even gets shot while he’s sitting in a bathtub full of money.
By contrast, Jamal is a saint–he never even tells a lie–and since he lives, there’s clearly a good way to get rich and a bad one. But there’s no question that getting rich is the point. No character learns to be happy and poor.
I realize that a billion stories reward their heroes with wealth, but I was unsettled by how moral Jamal’s wealth is made to seem, as though millions of rupees are the obvious purpose of goodness.
And if we call this a “feel good movie,” isn’t it partly because it encourages us to feel good about our own prosperity? Almost everyone who sees Slumdog Millionaire will be better off than Jamal, and since we’re encouraged to identify with him, we can tell ourselves that we’re wealthy like he is–that our virtue won our fortune. I mean, hell… I feel better about my high speed internet connection when I decide it’s a worthy reward for my soul.
And I’m not saying people should be excited to live in a slum. Boyle depicts a horrifying world, and the real version is worse. But is this game show fantasy a better alternative? Is wealth the only way?
I don’t have a clear answer. I’m living in a capitalist country, and I’d certainly like to make more money. But I’m wary of stories that unquestioningly champion winning and owning and getting rich.
One reason I’m leery is the other half of Slumdog’s moral. Along with his money, Jamal wins Latika (Freida Pinto), a girl he has loved all his life. After he answers his final question, he races to his girl, and now that he has enough money to support her, they get to be together.
And sure, that’s kind of how life is. It’s a lot easier to be with someone if you’ve got a good job.
But this movie makes an icky connection between earning money and owning a lover. Latika never has power. She is simply passed from one wealthy man to another, and some of them even force her to be an exotic dancer, which underscores her status as property.
When Latika finally gets to Jamal, we’re supposed to swoon, but really, she’s still being kept by a wealthy man. She still has no agency. Even when she becomes Jamal’s phone-a-friend on Millionaire, she doesn’t know the answer. She can’t help him win the prize because she is the prize
Again, since Jamal is noble, he’s rewarded with Latika, and that’s supposed to be fantastic for them both. But is transactional love really the love we want? Do we want one partner to be a businessman while the other is a deed?
And no, Slumdog Millionaire didn’t invent the “boy gets girl” scenario. Princes have been earning princesses for eons. But when I look at this film, I long for a different type of fairy tale.
12 responses so far ↓
1 JT // Nov 24, 2008 at 9:18 am
I’m surprised by your analysis. Maybe I’m just oversimplifying it but I didn’t feel like Jamal was morally rewarded with the money or that this was the real prize at all. Actually, the money was incidental to his happiness. That’s why he guessed on the last question. It didn’t matter whether he won the money or not at that point. He had his love so he was happy.
2 Mark Blankenship // Nov 24, 2008 at 12:36 pm
I agree with you that the money didn’t matter to Jamal’s specific character, but in the overall structure of the movie, I think the money was positioned as being incredibly important.
As an audience, we’re encouraged to see the cash as the thing that makes Jamal’s happiness possible. After all, Latika asks him what they’ll live on when they run away together. Even though he says, “Love,” we’ve already seen that’s not realistic.
Despite what Latika says, of course, Jamal doesn’t change. He’s never greedy, and like you pointed out, he guesses on the last question. He keeps believing you can live on love alone, and the movie rewards him for his idealism.
But the way it rewards him is with loads of money (along with Latika.) That ending doesn’t say Jamal is right–that you can live on love instead of your fortune. It says just the opposite, that living well actually hinges on lots of cash. Jamal just gets to earn a fortune without ever wanting one. He gets the security and happiness of wealth without sacrificing his character.
That’s why I was saying the movie encourages us to feel good about ourselves. We can decide that like Jamal and unlike Salim, we didn’t sacrifice our characters to get wealth..
And like I was saying, *I* would like to win lots of money. But who say it’s necessary for me to feel that way? Who says “Slumdog Millionaire” had to make money part of the equation? What if Jamal had found a way to be happy in the slum? What if he had missed the last question, but found a different road to joy?
The movie ends with cash and Latika, but it doesn’t have to end that way. But that ending is the most traditional. It’s the ending we see most often and certainly one that we’re conditioned to perceive as “happy” and “satisfying.” I’m just not sure I can accept that as easily as I used to.
3 Amanda // Nov 24, 2008 at 12:48 pm
Now that I’ve read your review and know the entire plot, I really want to see this film! Sick, isn’t it?
4 Mark Blankenship // Nov 24, 2008 at 12:56 pm
Not sick at all! When you do see it, let us know what you thought!
5 Lauren // Nov 24, 2008 at 3:29 pm
See, i really liked this movie. But my feminist haunches were definitely raised. Just the fact that a conservative/traditionalist story such as this one includes the “requisite” female-with-no-agency prize is troubling… or perhaps its normalized now… which is troubling.
I think precisely BECAUSE the movie was so beautiful and exciting and moralistic and well done, that it should have its ONLY female character have some muscle… or at least some opinion/talent/power (that isn’t the self-sacrificing-have-sex-with-me power). Mark is right – she was constantly pushed and pulled from one man to another with no plan of her own but survival (which equaled subservience) and no direct action except putting chillies on Salim’s crotch. Hmm….
Because the movie is so good, it should be better. Ha. This is why i leave the smart criticism to Mark
6 Anonymous // Dec 1, 2008 at 2:43 pm
“What if he had missed the last question, but found a different road to joy? ”
They filmed a version with Jamal getting the last question wrong, (with the happy ending being that money didn’t matter, he and Lathika got to be together)… but audience response was poor to that ending.
7 Mark Blankenship // Dec 1, 2008 at 4:06 pm
Wild! That says a lot about audiences, I suppose…
8 DJ // Dec 6, 2008 at 2:47 pm
Interesting analysis, Mark, but the thing you’re leaving out is class. The Mumbai shown by the film is not only bifurcated by extremes of wealth and poverty, but is riddled with vicious class distinctions. ‘Slumdog’ isn’t (merely) a financial slur, it’s a rancid social judgement. Although the characterisation could hardly be thinner or the plot less conventional, it seemed to me that Boyle uses them to prise open some perspectives on this extraordinarily class-ridden society. The money symbolises not an end in itself, I think, but mobility – which is why the Mumbai crowds are transfixed and willing Jamal on.
9 Mark Blankenship // Dec 8, 2008 at 4:28 pm
That’s a good point DJ. It doesn’t ameliorate my concern about Jamal “winning” his girlfriend, but it expands my view of the rest of the show’s context. I can see that from a class perspective, “Slumdog Millionaire” is a pleasant fantasy about a kid’s goodness alone elevating him to a better life.
10 Henry C. // Jan 12, 2009 at 1:50 pm
“It says just the opposite, that living well actually hinges on lots of cash.”
And doesn’t it? I don’t mean to be cynical, but to live well and comfortable, you do need a decent amount of cash. Let’s be practical. You can’t buy a house or a car w/o money. You can’t buy food, clothes, or an education w/o money. And having experienced a much milder version of the slums of Mumbai, I can relate to the quest for money, for financial independence and wealth. We’re no longer a barter & trade world. We’re a world that runs on money. You can say the world runs on love and family, but that’s just idealistic hodgepodge.
And Latika DOES have power. You talk about her being passed from one wealthy man to another. Sure, that’s true at the beginning of the movie, but at the end, when she finally gets to be with Jamal, that no longer is the case. She runs away to Jamal. She CHOOSES to be with Jamal. That in itself is power.
11 Charlene // Apr 22, 2009 at 5:00 pm
Latika never developed as a full character because she was always at the mercy of other men. However, Latika did attempt to run away with Jamal regardless of finances, but her plans were thwarted. When she met Jamal at the train station the first time, she carried absolutely nothing with her.
12 Afton // May 2, 2011 at 12:46 pm
I disagree with Mark on the whole “Latika is the prize” concept. They had a very thorough back story and their love for one another regardless of their financial situation was long established before Jamal went on the show. The interaction between Latika and Jamal at the home of the mobster she was owned by implied that she was concerned about their safety and thought their fate was sealed; a lack of faith. The movie is supposed to show you that one-in-a-million fantasy that is highly improbable, but makes you feel good about. It’s kind of absurd to criticize it for not being realistic. How many movies that clean up at the Oscars are realistic to the average person? The money symbolizes faith and the by product is Latika. I also feel the movie insinuates that Latika is chaste. So while she is exploited in some senses, she also placed on a pedestal in a sense. Being the sexual object of a man that loves you the way Jamal loves Latika is an anomaly.
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