After seeing Slumdog Millionaire (“Mill-a-naire!” as that adorably dot-headed Regis Philbin wannabe excitedly cries all the time), I turned to my mother, my date for the evening, and asked her what she thought of the movie. “It was awful!” she cried, and with a furrowed brow I asked her why. “Because no one took care of all those poor, starving children. How could they just leave those poor Indian children there to die? They need to give the money to the children. This is ridiculous.”
“But what about–”
“No, just-just no. It was awful. I can’t believe that with all the talk about the movie, no one’s talked about that.”
Okay, so her reasoning doesn’t quite add up, but the more and more I thought about it, the more I started to really hate Slumdog Millionaire. It’s not that it’s a bad movie, per se; in fact, I thought it was phenomenal (at least, at first), so I’ll admit that the (absolutely brilliant and clever) portmanteau pun of the title above is really just me being facetious. Hell, I’ll even admit that I structured the previous sentence the way that I did just so I could use the word “portmanteau” in it (which I did. Victory!). So as long as I’m being honest with you, I would implore you to be honest with me in return and just admit that, while it was certainly a good film, Slumdog Millionaire did not nearly deserve the ridiculous amount of praise, adoration, and bukkake that it received.
So why did it win so many awards (aka, everything)? Because Americans, especially wealthy Hollywood moguls, are completely enamored on all things “cultural.” We look down at every non-white civilization in the world, and not necessarily in a condescending way; it’s the same way we look at a puppy dog. “Aw! Look at those Indian people with their brown skin and crazy cloth patterns and beads! Ooh, and the way they worship cows? How adorable! Who’s my little Slumdog? Yes you are!” It’s fucking kitschy! We’re too blinded by adoration for these delightful indigenous stereotypes to notice things like, oh, how come every single question Jamal was asked on the game show ran chronologically parallel with his life? OH HAY WELL THAT’S JUST A BIG COINCIDENCE. Right. Just like the coincidence that an Indian actor from a wealthy upper caste would ever fly randomly into the middle of the slums by helicopter, right where our protagonist is swimming in poop (unless I’m just being terribly ignorant on this like a real American?)
Most importantly, do we think that Danny Boyle was at all aware that is movie consisted almost entirely of flashbacks-within-flashbacks? If any other film maker had tried this stunt, he would have been crucified. And sure, the idea of revealing through flashback how Jamal knew every answer was a clever framing device. It also became an incredible tedious crutch after the millionth time it was used. Allow me replay the entire movie for you in broad strokes:
- We are from India!
- Here we are watching you on TV giving answers on a game show!
- How could you know the answer!
- I’ll tell you how I knew the answer!
- Cue glittery 70′s harp glissando flashback music!
- OMG FLASHBACK
- Terrible stereotypical happen in the Indian slums!
- I’m in love with a sexy sexy Indian girl who is devoid of all personality or character!
- My brother is a total douchebag!
- OMG! Somehow, a minor detail of the scene coincidentally correlates with the question I was initially asked in the first-step flashback in the present!
- More heartbreak, angst, and further complications!
- Benign authority figure in the present begrudgingly believes me while fat authority figure in the present is a total dick!
- DRINKS CHAI TEA
- We are from India!
- Here we are watching you on TV giving answers on a game show!
- How could you know the answer!
- I’ll tell you how I knew the answer!
- Cue glittery 70′s harp glissando flashback music!
- OMG FLASHBACK
- Terrible stereotypical happen in the Indian slums!
- I’m in love with a sexy sexy Indian girl who is devoid of all personality or character whom I met briefly over 12 years ago, but love knows no boundaries!
- My brother is a total douchebag!
- Cue glittery 70′s harp glissando flashback music!
- OMG! Somehow, a minor detail of the scene coincidentally correlates with the question I was initially asked in the first-step flashback in the present!
- More heartbreak, angst, and further complications!
- Benign authority figure in the present begrudgingly believes me while fat authority figure in the present is a total dick!
- DRINKS CHAI TEA! Wait, I thought I drank this already!
- We are from India!
- Here we are watching you on TV giving answers on a game show!
- How could you know the answer!
- I’ll tell you how I knew the answer!
- Cue glittery 70′s harp glissando flashback music!
- OMG FLASHBACK
- Terrible stereotypical happen in the Indian slums!
- I’m in love with a sexy sexy Indian girl (*now with a sexy sexy scar!) who is devoid of all personality or character whom I knew for all of 2 months about 12 years ago and I am still completely infatuated with her even though my brother is a total douchebag!
- OMG! Somehow, a minor detail of the scene coincidentally correlates with the question I was initially asked in the first-step flashback in the present!
- More heartbreak, angst, and further complications!
- Benign authority figure in the present begrudgingly believes me while fat authority figure in the present is a total dick!
- DRINKS CHAI TEA
- We are still from India!
- Completely contrived and stereotypical Hollywood ending cop-out that rivals even 28 Days Later!
- Exploitative tongue-in-cheek dance sequence supposedly created as an “homage” to the Bollywood films that the movie otherwise barely references but pretends to!
I read a review somewhere praising the movie for, “The best use of flashback I’ve ever seen.” This person must have written that review after just the first one, when it was still new and exciting, and not after the credits where its tiresome repetition turned it into little more than a cheap, over-glorified and wonderfully forced plot device. Such glaring errors and plot holes were, of course, easily overlooked by the feel-good nature of the thing (which I personally felt great about while watching), and the fact that it featured those cute widdle India people and their silly cultures. Aw, look! That God has tusks! And that one has lots of arms! Isn’t that just precious?
Well, at least the Indian chick was sexy. And that scar! Rawr.
T,
If I did not personally know you (as I do, as you know), I would conjure up some ridiculous argument that only holds weight when angrily scribbled down at 3am in my underwear drinking a warm but well-crafted little-known New England beer.
Oh wait, you just did that.
Slumdog was pretty awesome, and I’ve personally heard you laud much stinkier crap in your day. Don’t be a douche just to be a douche, it’s sometimes okay to like things that everyone else likes (feisty counterculture internet persona be damned!). Stop being an idiot.
B
Hi this blog is great I will be recommending it to friends.