The White Tiger

Twelve years ago, the Indian actor and director Aamir Khan described Slumdog Millionaire as not being an Indian film, but a film about India, similar to Gandhi. His criticism was milder than what other Indian critics were complaining about, with some viewing the British film as insulting or only focusing on negative aspects of life in India. 

I don't know what Khan thinks of The White Tiger, the new adaption of Aravind Adiga's novel on Netflix, but I suspect his views would be similar to how he felt about Slumdog Millionaire. It's is easy to see how The White Tiger could be another case of Hollywood poverty porn. NPR interviewed several Indians who grew up in poverty, and there are mixed reactions, with one saying that the film "catered to the white Western gaze, reinforcing stereotypes that the poor are helpless."

I am not Indian, I have never lived in India, and I have not experienced poverty; therefore, all I can do is read these concerns and allow it to affect my perception of a movie that I generally liked. Beyond that, it does seem (to an outsider, at least) that while there certainly is Western gazing in this film, director Ramin Bahrani (who also wrote the screenplay) is cognizant of complaints about Slumdog Millionaire and at least is trying hard not to repeat the same mistakes.

Part of his strategy in doing so is to focus on the politics a lot more. Instead of an earnest and sweet rags-to-riches tale that felt universal, The White Tigers tries a different approach, frequently comparing those who suffer from capitalism to chickens awaiting their violent end in a coup and casting a wide net of attacks against hypocritical politicians, the caste system, the rich, tribalism, and liberal do-gooders. 

The vehicle for such an ideological message is the main character, Balram (played by Adarsh Gourav). Balram is a clever boy, becoming the only one in his class to be fluent in English. This impresses a teacher so much that he calls him a white tiger, a very rare animal in the jungle. White tigers, though, presumably are vulnerable, as their white fur can give them away, and so, too, Belram is at risk. Balram's dreams of enjoying his scholarship and studying are crushed when is father (Satish Kumar) dies of tuberculosis and his grandmother (Kamlesh Gill) orders him to work at home at the family tea shop so that they can pay off debts to the village landlord, nicknamed The Stork (Mahesh Manjrekar). 

Balram grows up but still dreams of escaping the village and going on to bigger things. He's able to charm himself into getting a job as the driver of Ashok (Rajkummar Rao), The Stork's Western-educated and promising son. On the surface, Ashok is kind to Balram, certainly kinder toward him than The Stork or Ashok's older brother, The Mongoose (Vijay Maurya), are. Pinky (Priyanka Chopra Jones, who also is an executive producer of the film), Ashok's wife who was raised in the U.S., also displays kindness toward Balram. Their generosity, however, is superficial, and when push comes to shove, a more honest reality presents itself.

It doesn't matter, though. Balram becomes infatuated with them, constantly calling Ashok "sir" and using words like "master" and "serve" to Ashok and Pinky, whom he calls members of his family. "It is my duty to serve," he says without hesitating. Eventually, though, Balram can only take so many de-humanizing insults. "Do we loathe our masters behind a façade of love, or do we love them behind a façade of loathing?" he asks, in the film's best line taken from the book. 

Gourav's performance is fantastic. He's given several moments to show what he can do physically and verbally, but his eyes do a lot of the work, too. His delivery of other well-written lines in this manifesto, like "When I looked at that cash, I didn't feel guilt; I felt rage," are spot-on. The audience is witness to Balram's metamorphosis from tea worker to driver to beyond, becoming sort of an Indian Robin Hood, fighting against modern-day India's "two-caste system" of those with bellies and those without, and Gourav's performances makes that transformation more fascinating.

Bahrani does a commendable job adapting this novel for the screen, and it is great that Western studios are diversifying their content to include more Asian stories featuring Asian performers. (It was not that long ago when actors like Peter Sellers and Alec Guinness would appear in brown face or when the only Indians in movies were those eating monkey brains.) Alas, the concerns about the West's portrayal of India continues to be problematic. The White Tiger is less awkward than films before it, but the West still has a ways to go.