Slumdog Millionaire

Fasten your seatbelts, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

Slumdog Millionaire is propelled by stunning visuals, breathtaking editing, and an out-of-this-world music soundtrack, composed by A.R. Rahman.


From the moment it begins, the film hits the ground running - and it never stops.
From the opening shot of boys living in the slums of Mumbai to the ending Bollywood dance sequence during the credits, this is one ride you won't want to miss.

The only words that come to mind are: jaw-dropping, mind-blowing, heart-stopping, and eye-popping.

It's got all of the elements - hardship, overcoming impossible odds, tragedy, death, violence, love, revenge, loyalty, betrayal, comedy, victory, success, destiny, fortune... and more. Director Danny Boyle has mastered the art of filmmaking. Despite the tragedy, hardship, and unsurmountable odds that take place, the film manages a feel-good ending that will blow away even the best of Billy Elliot, Forrest Gump, or Finding Nemo.

Film works in only two senses - sight and sound, but Slumdog is a film that will blow all of your senses and leave you feeling numb. It's an entertainment explosion that delivers an out-of-this-world experience.

The film reminds us to appreciate the things we have, both tangible and intangible.

There are too many profound, thoughtful, depressing films out there, but there's no need to resort to pre-packaged Hollywood fluff movies either - Slumdog Millionaire is a delightful compromise. Do yourself a favor and go see it. You'll be glad you did.

Nobody Knows

Recently I saw a film that was more haunting than any horror film I'd ever seen. And it wasn't even a horror movie. "Nobody Knows" is a Japanese film based on a true story in which a mother abandons her four children in an apartment and leaves them to fend for themselves.


Their mother comes back only once for Christmas bringing them presents, then leaves again for months on end without a word, except for sending a wad of cash. She does all this as if it were the most normal thing for a parent to do. It's a shame that no adults know about their situation, and even the landlady doesn't say or do anything when she becomes suspicious after they stop paying rent.

The kids carry on with their lives as if nothing is wrong. Only the oldest, Akira, understands the gravity of their situation. He manages the money and shops for groceries. The next oldest, Kyoko, does the laundry and plays on her miniature toy piano. Yuki likes to color. Shigeru plays videogames. At one point, they make friends and even invite them over. Akira meets a girl. They are normal kids living normal lives, but not quite. There is something wrong with this picture.

Aesthetically, the film is pleasant, soft, and light. It tiptoes its way through the story. It is both haunting and dream-like. I love how the film shows progression of time through close-up shots of Akira's sneakers, which go from brand-new white to gray to filthy black through the course of the film. There is a great sequence when the kids go outdoors for the first time after the winter, on a beautiful new spring day. The sequence is pure joy to watch, and you can almost smell the fresh scent of spring in the air. I love the shot of the kids' shoes as they run across the pavement, how they go to the store and pick out their favorite snacks, and how Shigeru brings back a plant from the playground. It's scary that they get so much joy from things that other kids take for granted everyday.

Their living conditions slowly deteriorate as the apartment gets messier and the utilities are shut off. Towards the end of the film they are living in filth. One of the kids, Yuki, dies. It's a loss of innocence moment for kids who are already dealing with things beyond their age. I was taken aback by how quickly they moved on with their lives. The ending shows them settling into a kind of routine - it's summer, there's a sense of carefree in the air - they almost seem happy.

But there is no resolution here, no Hollywood happy ending. The only resolution there seems to be is that this is their life, and that they've accepted it. There's a sense that things might get better - Akira has made a friend who is sympathetic of their situation - but that is all the film leaves us with. There is no sense that the mother will come back anytime soon, or ever at all. She has forgotten about her children. She doesn't know about Yuki's death. She might never know. She might never see her remaining children ever again.

Immediately after seeing the film, I felt haunted. By Yuki's death. By these kids living in that filthy apartment. By the thought of them going on like this indefinitely and eventually vanishing into oblivion.

Pixar Does It Again

Last night at the Golden Globes, WALL-E won for Best Animated Feature Film. It was up against Bolt and Kung Fu Panda.


I was rooting for Bolt all the way. I think it really came down to either Bolt or WALL-E, but WALL-E won because it carried a profoundly deeper message. It also had excellent sound design (in the absence of much dialogue) and a simple, to-the-point sci-fi storyline. WALL-E is a thrill ride for tech and sci-fi geeks. Roger Ebert gave it 3.5/4 stars.

What I loved about Bolt was its contemporary comedy (in the style of SNL, Family Guy, etc.) full of references to pop culture and the movie business. In contrast to WALL-E, Bolt was a dialogue-heavy film and it really depends on the dialogue to deliver.

WALL-E and Bolt are two very different films. In the end, the human-like robot named WALL-E captured our hearts (or at least the HFPA's) and took home the Globe.