It struck me as a rather heavy-handed fairy tale. While the gritty, crushing hardships endured by the characters verge much closer to reality than, say, Cinderella scrubbing floors and sleeping in a cartoon mouse-infested attic, toward the end, I could almost hear “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” swelling in the background as the characters realize that love conquers all, especially the predestined kind.
Don’t get me wrong, it serves its entertainment purpose, which is what most people are looking for in their trek to the movie theatre, but I didn’t connect with it in an affirmation of the human spirit, etc. sort of way that I suspect made many vote this into best picture category. I do not discount the successes of the movie—the audience is taken into the festering slums with such candid detail you feel as if you had really been there, the acting is good, the music is cleverly used as a playful and much needed reprieve from hard-to-watch scenes, and the storytelling is creative. The premise IS pretty original and the film has charm, but I just couldn’t fully stomach the “it is written,” “it’s our destiny” cop-out convenience of it all. Although the characters endure hellish circumstances (the little tent in the trash pile made me cry), I still just couldn’t get behind the final message, which feels as old and stale as any of the Disney princess movies.
The “Little Engine That Could” aspect (found here when the country rallies behind Jamal at his final question) is a crowd-pleaser every time, but I think what I was missing from this story is a sense of what any of it means to Jamal other than his singular focus on Latika. One would like to say it’s about the family you create, or the juxtaposition between his path and that of his brother, about choices and responsibility, even about triumph over hardships. While there are sprinkles of that, it didn’t fully resonate. And it perpetuates, unfortunately, the ever-present movie industry idea that love is as easy as “destiny.” When the apparently more reality savvy Latika asks Jamal “what would we live on?” and he replies “love,” I had to ask myself, is that blind idealism something we should really be rooting for? And if it is too irresistible to deny, shouldn’t we at least require some substantial message behind it? I don’t know, maybe I’m a cynic.
If you want a true story of inspiration from dismal circumstances, I suggest Born Into Brothels, a wonderful documentary by Ross Kauffman and Zana Briski about teaching photography to children of Calucutta brothels. You can also buy the childrens' wonderful photos and help support them. Here are some examples:
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