Ultimately, love shines through the ordure

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 Christopher Orr | *December 29, 2008*
Article from:  The Australian <http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/>

*SLUMDOG Millionaire, Danny Boyle's captivating new film, is structured as a
riddle: How is it that 18-year-old Jamal (Dev Patel), a penniless orphan -
that is, "slumdog" - from the streets of Mumbai, could answer trivia
question after trivia question correctly on the Indian version of Who Wants
to Be a Millionaire en route to a shot at the 20 million rupee jackpot? Is
he a genius? Is he cheating?*

The riddle is answered with a series of flashbacks to Jamal's boyhood, in
which reside the seeds of his hard-won knowledge. He knows, for instance,
who the star of the 1973 film *Zanjeer *was - Amitabh Bachchan, for those of
you scoring at home - because Bachchan was his favourite star when he was
little. How much did he love Bachchan? When the actor made a publicity stop
in Mumbai and Jamal's brother Salim (played as an adult by Madhur Mittal)
locked him in a stilted outhouse, he exited the only way he could: straight
down, a fecal pilgrimage that makes Ewan McGregor's plunge into the "worst
toilet in Scotland" in Boyle's *Trainspotting* look like a dip in the
Caribbean. When the boy emerges exultant from the muck, he makes a beeline
for the scrum surrounding his idol Bachchan, bouncing off (and soiling) his
fellow fans like a subcontinental variation on* South Park's* MrHankey the
Christmas Poo.

Rewarded with an autographed photo, he holds it aloft with all the pride of
an Olympic athlete brandishing a medal. This is not the last time we see the
lengths to which Jamal will go for love.

Subsequent flashbacks veer more towards tragedy than farce: the Hindu riots
from which Jamal and Salim barely escape with their lives; the boys'
recruitment and near-mutilation by the leader of an army of child beggars;
Salim's nascent career as a Mumbai gangster. Yet even at its most harrowing
and heartbreaking, *Slumdog Millionaire* is never less than deliriously
entertaining.

Working from a script by Simon Beaufoy *(The Full Monty*), Boyle stages
every scene with verve and brio, confidently flashing forward and back from
Jamal's boyhood to his quiz-show appearance to his mid-game interrogation by
a police inspector (Irfan Khan) who suspects him of cheating.

Throughout it all, cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle's camera bounces
giddily through the tin-roofed shanties of Mumbai, while Indian superstar
A.R. Rahman's soundtrack throbs seductively. Not since Fernando
Mireille's *City
of God* has a story about poverty and violence been told with such
extraordinary panache.

But unlike *City of God, Slumdog Millionaire* is not, at heart, a despairing
sociological portrait. Rather it is a romantic fable, a story about the
power of love undying and undeniable. As a boy, Jamal rescued another young
urchin, Latika (played as an adult by Freida Pinto), and from the start he
knew her to be his destiny.

Through trials and triumphs, he returns to find her, only to have her taken
from him again: by the beggar kingpin, by a murderous mobster, once even by
his brother Salim, who is ever teetering ambivalently between heroism and
villainy. Jamal's love is the engine of the film, the explanation for his
boyhood persistence and his *Millionaire* run.

This may not be the first film to conclude with the words "Kiss me", but few
have worked so hard to earn it. And though the movie's exuberant pace slows
a bit towards the end, it kicks back into gear with the liveliest credit
sequence in recent memory.

Throughout his still-young film career, director Boyle has shown a knack for
locating joy in the unlikeliest of subjects, whether heroin
addiction*(Trainspotting)
* or zombie epidemic *(28 Days Later).*

With* Slumdog Millionai*re, this gift blossoms fully, and the result is one
of the best films of the year.

While most directors vie to prove that they are serious artists by
emphasising the pathos in their stories, Boyle has chosen the opposite path.
Who else would persuasively present a little boy covered in shit as a
triumph of love and the human spirit?
http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,24849849-5013577,00.html

-- 
regards,
Vithur

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