artistry's exploitation

into the first three minutes of slumdog millionaire, it was already apparent that the film would be a memorable one. not withstanding the ingenious use of an overplayed gameshow, the precise choice of the setting guaranteed its success. and strangely throughout the film what i had to remind myself was not to disregard the actuality of the people, but not to dwell on too much of the reality. i actually gasped at the first extreme wide high angle shot of the slums. it was like my lego bricks after i'd puked all over them.

and the scene of jamal running with shit all over him made me tear.

if there is no more socioeconomic inequity there will be no more interesting places to which people can pay visits, and in order to not contaminate the beautiful rural your beloved havens remain steeped in innocence as they do in poverty, prostitution, and child slavery.

in a place where children beg and thievery is the only way of life where would true love stand? perhaps not exactly upon that land on which the child who sings like a nightingale was knocked out and onto his eyes poured hot wax that he may be blind to earn more sympathy and more money

the cut between latika escaping from the train to the villains catching up would have looked nicer had they been on opposite sides of the frame (meanwhile, women do their laundry in dirty canals beside which the zinc roofs of their homes shade a few tentatively surviving weeds)