Perhaps I exaggerate. Still, exaggeration is in the spirit of this stunning modern-day fairy tale. As “Slumdog” begins, Jamal, an orphan from the slums of Mumbai, has somehow made it to the final round of the Indian version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” He is quickly arrested under suspicion of cheating and tortured to reveal where he got his information.
The majority of the film is comprised of flashbacks as Jamal describes how each and every answer derived from some memory of his own life. The absurdity of the plot is matched only by its unimportance. What is important here is not reality, but romance, emotion and beauty. Danny Boyle is one of the most brilliant visual directors working today, and he outdoes himself here, using color, lighting and motion to such great extent that the frame practically explodes with pure energy. The strength of the ensemble cast (noticeably and intentionally lacking any Hollywood stars), including its fine child actors, helps sell the fable. While Frieda Pinto (Jamal’s true love, Latika) doesn’t have to do much but stand around looking pretty, Dev Patel (Jamal) exudes enough unadulterated devotion for the both of them.
The main criticism aimed at this film is that it glamorizes the extreme poverty found in Indian slums. It’s a charge that can’t quite be denied, but it does require context. “Slumdog Millionaire” is as accurate a depiction of slum life as “The Prince and the Pauper” is an exact portrait of medieval England. Why should we fault Boyle for not making a documentary, when that was never his intention?