If you live in the Philippines, where slum areas are a daily reality, it’s not easy to watch Jamal’s story unfold in “Slumdog Millionaire” without even a tiny trace of ache in your heart. However, to say that the film is about the slums of India—which could turn off Filipino viewers who’d rather escape, even for 90 or so minutes, harsh third world truths—is not at all accurate. The story rises from the slums of India, plucked by love and the magic of destiny.
I finally caught up with Oscar best picture Slumdog Millionaire last night. It will be shown in Philippine theaters on April 11, so I’m not really that behind, but many of my friends had already seen it even before the Oscar Awards last February and they’d been pushing me to watch director Danny Boyle’s newest hit for the longest time. Now, I understand why, and I’m urging everyone to do the same. Seriously, if it’s the only film you watch for the rest of the year, you would have done yourself a service.
Slumdog Millionaire is the kind of film you would gladly push, especially during this critical economic period, because in it hope blossoms like a little flower—a yellow one, in fact, as the object of protagonist Jamal’s undying love, Latika, is seen wearing something yellow, like a dress or a scarf, most of the time.
Based upon the novel Q&A and shot entirely in Mumbai, India, Slumdog Millionaire uses the game show Who Wants to be a Millionaire? to tell the story of the undying love between a girl and a boy from the old Bombay slums. As the contestant Jamal answers each question that leads to the jackpot prize, it is revealed how an uneducated “slumdog” learned the answers to the quiz show questions in the School of Hard Knocks. For instance, he knows Samuel Colt is the inventor of the revolver because a few years back, his brother had pointed a Colt pistol at him and threatened his life.
Slumdog Millionaire is also a visual treat, like Boyle’s other films, because of how it beautifully shows the flavor of modern-day Mumbai. I use the word “flavor” also because even if Indian food isn’t highlighted in the movie, Slumdog Millionaire is shot in the colors of curry, with plenty of whites and yellows and browns in different hues. I’m not sure of how Indians would think of this—and I would have, perhaps, no way of understanding their perspective—but I would say Boyle’s take also freshens up some of the images of India I have in mind.
If you live in the Philippines, where slum areas are a daily reality, it’s not easy to watch Jamal’s story unfold without even a tiny trace of ache in your heart. However, to say that the film is about the slums of India—which could turn off Filipino viewers who’d rather escape, even for 90 or so minutes, harsh third world truths—is not at all accurate. The story rises from the slums of India, plucked by love and the magic of destiny.
It is, in fact, destiny, that threads the love story of Jamal and Latika together. They meet on the most tragic of days, go through torturous experiences separately, and find, in the end, that everything is written. Jamal, for one, finds his true north early in life and he just keeps on following the only truth he knows. This is why it is easy to like, or even love, him as a protagonist. Not for one moment is he jaded, despite everything he goes through, and not for one moment does he give up.
I would suppose that’s what true love would do for you, slumdog or no slumdog.
Email your comments to alricardo@yahoo.com or text them to (63)917-9164421. You can also visit my personal blog at http://althearicardo.blogspot.com.