A New York Times online article about a Pakistani troop buildup on the country’s border with India is sponsored by Slumdog Millionaire. The film is by all objective standards a popcorn film, bombastic and entertaining, yet somehow growing Western awareness of South Asia’s geopolitical importance to the US War on Terror seems to have imbued the movie with a gravitas beyond the merits of its content.
Going Rogue Stream of Consciousness:
God, why do I hate that people like this movie so much? Wait, I got it, it’s because I have to endure lecture upon lecture from people with big glasses who say how “amaaaaaaaaazing” and “aaaauuuuuuuthentic” it is, when I’m pretty sure they only think so because they’ve been told to by every major media outlet as well as the dictating trends of taste. Slumdog’s hip right now, there’s no getting around it, just like PLO scarves were two years ago and the red checkered Pakistani equivalent were a year after that. Korea will be the shit in 2010 and Bangladesh will get its due by ‘012. I suppose I just wish someone who loved Slumdog Millionaire would admit to me that it’s a decent movie benefitting from a ridiculously fortuituous release date, and then attempt to describe how it’s objectively “better” as a “film” than either Salaam Bombay or Red Belt. Damn, Red Belt was sick.
Like, if someone was just like, “Yeah, that movie was tight,” I’d be like, “Yeah, it was, sweet, you’re a reasonable dude, want to hang out and maybe give me a job that’s not in a cubicle but still provides health insurance and pays more than 40 G’s a year?” Instead, I have to deal with Shrill Bills raising their voice and getting real bellicose about how they’re friend who grew up in Mumbai 15 years ago swears the movie captures the essence of the city perfectly. Yeah, I get it, bro, Mumbai’s mad modern and there’s ridiculous rates of poverty as well as rampant organized crime. There was also something called the Monkey Man so get the fart off your high horse and stop demanding Oscars. Were you lobbying for Irfahn Khan for a Best Supporting nomination for his performance in the Namesake last year? Irfahn, who? That’s what I thought.
Yo, I’m sorry. I’m just kind of pissed ’cause I have to go back to New York tomorrow and leave the beautifully gray and despondent midwest behind. And so shall resume the mind-numbing parade of self-importance down the bougie corriders of Manhattan and BK as “artists” remind you they’re “writers” for a living and have “projects” in “development.” They’ve seen all the hot button movies; they’ve stood in line outside all the new Grub Street faves; they’ve read the latest “Hot New Author,” and are totally into 30 Rock season 2. Then they’ll pity your for being out of the loop or condescend to you for even owning a television. It’s a lose-lose situation; everyone’s insufferable, including myself, and as the world moves toward World War 3 the only consensus reached is Slumdog is one helluva time at the cinemas. Curmudgeon, out.