this is not a movie review

For better or for worse, India has long been the centre of attention for the rest of the world’s fascination with the ‘exotic other’. From the Persian rulers to European sailors, Arabian traders to hippie travellers, imperialist mercenaries to beat poets, India seems to have played host to an innumerable range of enthusiasts, tyrants, and money-makers, amongst others. Now, it seems, is the turn of western moviemakers. And why shouldn’t it be so? Combine a history of the west’s fascination with India, the ‘booming’ economy of the country, a society as complex as (if not more than) any in the world, and you can tap into an audience and subjects, the likes of which have never been seen before.
So what’s all the fuss over Slumdog Millionaire taking home top honours at the Academy Awards? Why all the talk of a skewed perspective of life in India – voices speaking from within and without? It has everything going for it: a universally appealing rags-to-riches story, a gritty portrayal of a rising nation, elements of that vastly entertaining (and mystifying) entity known as Bollywood, a great cast and near-perfect cinematography and post-production. In fact the film has even proven to be a real-life rags-to-riches story for its young slum-dwelling actors, who now have access to fully-funded education, a monetary return that is (relatively) pretty big and a one-way ticket out of slum housing.
Could it be that India is ashamed of its poverty? Yes (and it should be), but it’s a little too naïve to imagine that over a quarter of a billion people living below the poverty line hasn’t been noticed by the world. Was the portrayal of poverty over the top? Probably not, since the movie was shot on location and is backed up by years of proof about living conditions for the poorest in India.
What is true, however, is that Slumdog Millionaire will provide widespread entertainment, food for thought, cringe-inducing emotions, Bollywood-tinted elation, and ‘cultural insight’ in coffee shops around the world; and it’ll just as easily whisk through the imaginations of millions of viewers without creating a positive impact.
The film unintentionally desensitises the audience to the plight of the poor in India and around the world. It brings to life the vivid colours and the melodious cacophony of the Indian slum but can’t possibly bring the audience the feeling of walking on rotting garbage or the stench that surrounds you constantly. Neither you nor I can know what it is to be in a Mumbai slum for more than a few minutes. Yet, we walk away from the film empathising with its characters. Neither you nor I can imagine the kinds of things that occur to the children of the slums. Yet we can’t stop talking about their lovability and indefatigable spirit. This, then, is the failure of the film. This is how it manages to negate all the wonderful characteristics about itself. It creeps up on us with its Bollywood charm and Hollywood panache and makes us forget that slumdogs can’t become millionaires. It makes us believe that things are getting better or somehow will because humans are resilient. Resilience is all one has when all else is lost. Things are getting better for a small minority but the rest continue to watch from the outside. But it’s okay, right? Eventually they’ll get lucky and things will turn out fine. In the mean time, why don’t we discuss how slick the movie looks?

a year full of mamata?

With each passing year new year's day seems a little older than in the past. I don't know whether it's because I keep trying to hold on to the way I've always celebrated new year's eve/day but it's slightly disconcerting either which way.

The only new thing to report from new year's day was being woken up by a singing loudspeaker installed by the Trinamool Congress on the street outside my friend's house. I don't know what was being sung but none other than God could have been listening without a grimace.

Today's been better though. I spent a bit of time with my parents at City Centre and two young guys (younger than me that is) ran up to me and enquired about my t-shirt. I had on my Waters concert shirt and told them it was from the concert itself. What was nice was that they thanked me and wished me a happy new year. Even Mom had something nice to say about it. I hope they have a good year too.

And then at PC the CR Park crew came equipped with musical instruments to set up a singing-jamming session. It was quite fabulous. Imagine being transported to a riverside cafe on a cool evening with an appreciative and enthusiastic crowd. It's something I haven't really seen in Calcutta. The room was smoky and dimly lit, shadows playing off the walls, dancing with each other. It was like a scene out of a documentary about a band's roots.

A nice second day if not the best first I'd say.