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Entertainment with a new bite

Even after 4 Golden Globes and 10 Oscar nominations, we still wonder whether Slumdog is a good film and whether it really deserves global accolades.

Entertainment with a new bite
So, did you like Slumdog Millionaire? Do you think it shows India in poor light? Is the West piggybacking on Bollywood? Do we need the West to tell us what India is?

I have got bomarded by these questions ever since I saw Slumdog. Even after 4 Golden Globes and 10 Oscar nominations, we still wonder whether Slumdog is a good film and whether it really deserves global accolades.

Well, to enjoy Slumdog, you have to get rid off preconceived templates. You have to stop comparing Slumdog with Swordfish; avoid believing that Dark Knight is a hi-tech Slumdog; and start reading enough about Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib to prepare yourself for the injustices of Dharavi. In other words, you need to see Slumdog with a fresh pair of eyes, ears, and popcorn.

Slumdog comes at a time when two books have become talking points: Arvind Adiga’s White Tiger and Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers. Did Adiga present the real India? Was he fair to a country that has the makings of an IT superpower? Did he have to remind us about the scum and scam of Indian life?

Adiga’s Booker-winning tale asked a simple question: Does the unfortunate underdog even have a chance in India’s villages?

Slumdog turns life into a quizshow. Only one can survive the struggle; only one can win life’s contest. 50:50, phone-a-friend, ask-the-audience are also life’s rope-tricks for survival. If Slumdog smells like a soap in Danny Boyle’s hands, it’s because of its unlikely, simply-impossible-to-become hero.

It may not be a bad idea to read Gladwell’s Outliers to understand struggle and success. “We all know that successful people come from hardy seeds. But do we know enough about the sunlight that warmed them, the soil in which they put down the roots and the rabbits and lumberjacks they were lucky enough to avoid? This is not a book about tall trees. It’s a book about forests...,” writes Gladwell.

It’s the predators and lumberjacks that Slumdog focuses on. In a downturn, white tigers, slumdogs and rabbits expose the dark underbelly of India. A boom creates a short-term memory loss. In such times, you need to tattoo Slumdog on your mind to remind yourself that there is another India.

Since Ghajini is still on in theatres, perhaps it’s a good time to compare the idea of exploitation. Certainly, Slumdog looks like a Tihar before Ghajini’s Guantanamo. After all, Ghajini is barbarity giftwrapped as a medical enigma for the audiences.  Once you erase the tattoos, you will see the monstrousness of slumlife staring remorselessly at you.

Slumdog is not just a social footage or a poverty thriller. It is a racy, suspenseful, taut script. It is peopled with the right cast, edited to Mahim’s pace, and shot with an eagle eye. It ferrets out poignant images we have always taken for granted.

“When I saw Slumdog Millionaire… I was witnessing a phenomenon: dramatic proof that a movie is about how it tells itself… It is one of those miraculous entertainments that achieves its immediate goals and keeps climbing toward a higher summit,” says cine-commentator Roger Ebert.

That higher summit is Bollywood 2.0. Could Bollywood have done it on its own? A film is not just about local talent churning out well-marketed masterpieces. It also about global talent teaming up to recreate Bolltwood. It’s about finesse, art, subtlety, universal connect. Slumdog is not just a Hollywood triumph; it is also a manifestation of Bollywood and its time-tested formula. It is simply about quality. It is also about the creation of the MacMasala, or Bollwood’s ability to roll out one Oscar-quality film after another.

Vikas Swarup, the writer who inspired Slumdog Millionaire, opens his book with a clincher: “Arrests in Dharavi are as common as pickpockets on a local train. There are some who have to be physically dragged off by the constables…And there are those who go quietly… For them, the arrival of the jeep with the flashing red light is actually a relief.”

Well, Danny Boyle’s movie is like a jeep with the red light. It’s a relief for people overfed on Hollywood and Bollywood. It is entertainment with a new bite — and class.

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