Some thoughts….
Slumdog millionaire is a post modern film. It is also so important because it is a film that clearly brings about the dichotomy in two ways of knowing the world; and it is a film about history; knowledge; and how we come to know what we do.
We learn our history through an institutionalized, state sanctioned and governed system of education. But this film is about the history learnt; a history of the city, its events, its dates being at the periphery of the state and the periphery of the city, and yet part of it.
Where history is not linear but inherently violent and it is a lived not learned history. It is lived and created, through systems of survival, streets, tactics, rumors; through cheating, stealing, robbing; be it as a guide to Taj Mahal or stealing shoes of tourists at the Taj Mahal, or knowing that Ram had a bow and arrow on his right hand, through a communal riot. Where stealing or cheating is the only way of knowing and you create your life experiences from these, remembering every detail on the way, absorbing and absorbing, watching, observing. They can either be considered as illegal acts, illicit acts or as stealing from the state’s body or those privileged from the state sanctioned system.
The movie made Mumbai its home; it was the slumdog’s, call centre chai wallah’s perspective, it traversed places and situations that no movie I remember has in a long time. And yet what is love here, love is hope, love is rescue and you need love and you need Amitabh Bachchan, because he makes it seem possible to emerge victorious from the surrounding decadence.
As I lay there watching the movie, all I wanted to do was cry and cry. What was I doing in the United Sates as an urban planner, when the city I loved and I had grown up in needed people with my skills more than ever? What am I really doing here? Mumbai seemed like the planet of slums and yet it was not only Mumbai, I could probably say that about so many other cities like New Delhi, Bangalore, Kolkata.
It also made me angry at directors like Karan Johar, Yash Raj, who spent millions and millions of rupees in Bollywood, in fantasgmoria, in godfather like underworld dons, in glamour, and hallucination, when a non-Indian was able to not only understand the fundamental dichotomy of different modes of knowing, but contextualize it in India. Though this is not to say that only “natives” of a country have the intellectual capacity or insight to personal and yet political narratives of a country, but seriously where are our directors? We have had movies that speak from the underdog’s perspective but they have been inherently nationalistic, paternalistic, and parochial. Danny Boyle has shamed the likes of Karan Johar and Yash Raj.
Slumdog millionaire is a post modern film. It is also so important because it is a film that clearly brings about the dichotomy in two ways of knowing the world; and it is a film about history; knowledge; and how we come to know what we do.
We learn our history through an institutionalized, state sanctioned and governed system of education. But this film is about the history learnt; a history of the city, its events, its dates being at the periphery of the state and the periphery of the city, and yet part of it.
Where history is not linear but inherently violent and it is a lived not learned history. It is lived and created, through systems of survival, streets, tactics, rumors; through cheating, stealing, robbing; be it as a guide to Taj Mahal or stealing shoes of tourists at the Taj Mahal, or knowing that Ram had a bow and arrow on his right hand, through a communal riot. Where stealing or cheating is the only way of knowing and you create your life experiences from these, remembering every detail on the way, absorbing and absorbing, watching, observing. They can either be considered as illegal acts, illicit acts or as stealing from the state’s body or those privileged from the state sanctioned system.
The movie made Mumbai its home; it was the slumdog’s, call centre chai wallah’s perspective, it traversed places and situations that no movie I remember has in a long time. And yet what is love here, love is hope, love is rescue and you need love and you need Amitabh Bachchan, because he makes it seem possible to emerge victorious from the surrounding decadence.
As I lay there watching the movie, all I wanted to do was cry and cry. What was I doing in the United Sates as an urban planner, when the city I loved and I had grown up in needed people with my skills more than ever? What am I really doing here? Mumbai seemed like the planet of slums and yet it was not only Mumbai, I could probably say that about so many other cities like New Delhi, Bangalore, Kolkata.
It also made me angry at directors like Karan Johar, Yash Raj, who spent millions and millions of rupees in Bollywood, in fantasgmoria, in godfather like underworld dons, in glamour, and hallucination, when a non-Indian was able to not only understand the fundamental dichotomy of different modes of knowing, but contextualize it in India. Though this is not to say that only “natives” of a country have the intellectual capacity or insight to personal and yet political narratives of a country, but seriously where are our directors? We have had movies that speak from the underdog’s perspective but they have been inherently nationalistic, paternalistic, and parochial. Danny Boyle has shamed the likes of Karan Johar and Yash Raj.
4 comments:
Thats great to see a non resident Indian praising a non Indian White man(Danny Boyle of course) for his supreficial and ostensible work on the slums of India.Its something like a History Teacher is giving "A" grade to a Commnerce student for his thesis on Human Genetics.Wow.
I want to let you know that People like Satyajit Ray,Govind nihlani,Arundhati Roy,Gurucharan Das stil exists in India.
It may be great for you to loath on people like Karan johar,Madhur Bhandarkar blah blah who don't know the basic realities but tyring to make a movie to make bucks.But you should also praise the people who are keeping the torch of Indianness alive
Ashutosh, first, you need to tell me what you think is superficial about the movie. I think that will help.
Because, besides the question of identity, I find no substance in your argument. Do Govind Nihlani, and Satyajit Ray constitute popular bollywood cinema?
Even within bollywood, do you put Madhur Bhandarkar and Karan Johar in the same category of film making? So please, dont read my words frivolously nor use your words like that.
I don't think you have any legitimacy over any NRI or otherwise (even though I am not one) to claim to know more about India. We have enough capitalists and neoliberlist Indians living here as well. So please save me the paternalist attitude and if you really want to critique me, find a constructive way to do so.
Otherwise, I will say you are just an insecure critic who revels in his identity (as an Indian or whatever else to legitimize him), and not his thinking ability.
Fault accepted
hey sonal,
I liked the film too for pretty much the same reasons. But its as long as one sees it as a film set in a slum. I often get enraged with people trying to read slums through that film. This film made me uncomfortable to the core. It had all the ingredients of a surface reading of a slum. Of the crime, the dirt and violence, inflicted and capitalized on by people in the slum not the state, not the privileged city. There isnt even an allusion to the complexity of that space and the economics it weaves in. The slum is aestheticized thru (brilliant!)cinematography, but the understanding of it is as generic as it can get. The problem is not that a white guy made the film for gods sake, the cities rich are just as white to a slum. The problem is not that it shows India as a poor country - if anything its atleast putting light on issues often hidden under the shanghi carpets. The problem is its simplistic unfolding tends to criminalize the slum. (This is the first time I am trying to put forth my discomfort with the film and its tough!)
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