Jen and I spent New Year’s Eve watching movies. Slumdog Millionaire and Burn After Reading.
One we sat riveted through for the entire 2 hours, the other we struggled through the first half and eventually turned off before hitting the sack at 11.
Brad Pitt, John Malkovich and George Clooney vs. a story. And that’s basically the difference.
Hollywood has become so Hollywood that I couldnt get lost in the script. The Bollywood faces of Slumdog may be famous to some, but they were new to me. Thwy let me get lost in a compelling and thrilling story. I was lost in the script, not thinking about how young Brad Pitt looked with the frosted hair, or how goofy George Clooney looked with a beard. I was eagerly wanting Jamal and Latika to be together.
Slumdog is getting all the pre-Oscar hype. Nominated for awards at every turn and it got me thinking if Hollywood had looked beyond the realm of its own neighborhood to truly recognize great filmmaking. Then I found the director of Slumdog is Danny Boyle (Trainspotting) and the name is littered with english names.
Slumdog is based on an Indian novel, set in India, with Indian actors, but it is a British film, made by Brits, directed by Brits, financed by Brits - those more likely to have Hollywood connections.
No matter, Slumdog is a great film. A wonderful ride, a fabulous tale of two brothers taking different paths out from the same humble beginnings. It actually reminded me a lot of one of the story angles from Babel - the thread about the two Moroccan boys whose errant gun play set the story in motion.
The acting is real, the visuals are breathtaking and the story is genuine. When people talk of Slumdog Millionaire as being an Oscar contender, they’re speaking of the natural and real skill it takes to make a beautiful film, they’re not talking about how great the makeup artistry was to make you forget you were watching Brad Pitt age in reverse in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
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