Looking Toward the Academy

I'm very much looking forward to Sunday's Oscar ceremony, and ever more so because of the films I've recently seen. Asif and I don't go to the cinema often, as it's simply too cost-prohibitive, and most of the year, we simply cannot agree on what we both care to see. Oscar season tends to bring out some very special fims, however. Films that rise to the top. Taking into consideration both what I have seen and what local critics have commented on, I will share a few thoughts, mostly about my favorite film of this particular year in the life of the Academy.

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Asif and I watched "Slumdog Millionaire" last Sunday. I expected it to be good, but what I experienced was two hours of emotional acuity beyond what I was bargaining for. Anyone who knows me can attest to my stoicism, but I was a continuious ball of tears, and I am happy to explain how that came to be.

I think that Slumdog Millionaire is the finest film of the year. And yet, I see how I came to see its power early in the film, and I do admit that my background did play into this view. From the beginning of the film, human dignity plays a premium in this film. I think this eventually becomes apparent to anyone (with the possible exception of SF Chronicle's inept critic, Mick LaSalle, whose white maleness colors more than a few of his choices, though I still love to read his reviews for what remains) through the opening sequences. Most telling is the talk show host (played by Bollypro Anil Kapoor) and his rather insensitive delve into Jamal's life as chaiwallah.

At this point, many get it. If you don't, do try to understand the class consciousness of South Asia. Married to a Pakistani, I've been exposed to this, so Jamal's position as Muslim chaiwallah to an upwardly-mobile class of Hindus is a complex situation in itself, and watching what follows is a bittersweet treat in cinematic perfection. The moments are harsh. They are real. And it is not easy to watch. But it is more authentic than I think a lot of viewers (and critics) want to admit. And it is well done.

The scene in which Jamal's mother is killed (and he is, unfortunately, taught the lesson that wins him one more spot up the ladder of the game show) is a particularly well-executed sequence. The fast style of editing that was employed perfectly mirrored the chase/search/frantic run that Jamal and Samir underwent as the anti-Muslim rally ravaged the neighborhood. Are some of these critics forgetting that their mother was just strucken dead? You think these children are hanging around, simply waiting for someone to save them? They've clearly lived long enough not to be that stupid.

I see truth in not only the way the scenes are presented, which alternate rapid shots and longer, more caring and lingering moments, based on the particular scene, but also in the thrust of the story. Some criticize the nature of the boy-meets-girl, falling in love forever type of story. Again, I think this ignores the gravity of the nature of how these two individuals met and fell in love. Orphans who made it out of such amazing circumstances deserve to believe in destiny. Hell, I think I deserve to believe in destiny, even though I'm but a lower-middle-class girl who escaped the upper-Midwest to find my Pakistani prince in the city on the bay. I know I didn't quite earn it or deserve it, at least on paper, but when I look at that face of his, I'd beg to differ.

Finally, I'd like to address one area that most viewers (except the Desi audience) honestly cannot avoid the trappings of, and that's the subtitles. I believe a significant portion (30% perhaps) of the Hindi/Urdu dialogue was completely lost in translation. As a wife of a South Asian, I caught so much content that I did not see translated on the screen. It was the kind of dialogue that was not plot-turning, but rather, gave the full scope of how the characters were communicating with one another, and I think this does, indeed, affect how one interacts with the film. A good chunk of it was cursing, but I think this, even, contributes to how we see the characters. I believe the lack of complete subtitles was probably a conscious effort not to distract from visual elements of the film, but, in the end, the audience may have been distanced by the negation of some of the most authentic dialogue.

In the end, I would venture to say that most people I have spoken to have found "Slumdog Millionaire" to be an amazing film. I'm slightly troubled by the disparity that exists within the minds of (mostly white, male) critics who seem not to want to believe that a world exists where this is reality. These are, by the way, the same writers who argued that Obama's primary lead was a reflection of all kinds of things other than genuine political purpose, so I can't help but recognize a certain desire amongst the likes of LaSalle and others to cling to an imaginary world where white people are good, brown people are lucky for the help of white people, and Muslims have never been an oppressed minority.

Luckily, I know this world does not exist.

Luckily, I am not alone.

I do expect Slumdog Millionaire to win the Academy Award, by the way.

And there is nothing false about hope.

And I still cry when I think of the human dignity (and the force seeking to negate it) in the above-mentioned film.