Thursday

Expectation around a movie, in my experience, is more often than not deflated when I finally get to see it. This was certainly the case for Slumdog Millionaire, which I saw last night. Without doubt I preferred Danny Boyle's last film, Sunshine. Slumdog's twists of fate just weren't convincing or powerful enough for me. Something in them failed. Pithily, one might say that the film is little more than an extended episode of 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire?': one where we get the history of the contestant. It is only in this contestant's extraordinary life that we become interested. However, his story is not that different from many other rags to riches stories we've seen throughout cinema and literary history. The fear of the criminal gangs is nothing especially new. I didn't find the love story particularly convincing either, as it seemed to centre mainly on his desperation, rather than any shared interests. The film does show a fascinating country and lifestyle (I think ignored by Bollywood), but these are more the credentials of a documentary rather than a movie, and I think this is what people are blinded by. The montage sequences work well (although they also reveal this films origins as a novel), and the flashbacks are at times patronising, at times eloquent. The ending was lame, falling flat, with no great surprise to shock us with, as I was expecting. Perhaps, then, it is my own expectations that have been disappointed. After all, this is a good film, but not the great one I was hoping for. Despite the many awards it won at the BAFTAs, I would be surprised if it does so well at the Oscars, or if we're still talking about this film in ten years.