By Daniel E. Jennis

There is already a lot of praise on this site for “Slumdog Millionaire”, Danny Boyle’s fantastic new film about impoverished youth and the incredible power of fate. The plot of the film is also published elsewhere on the site, so I will avoid summary. My goal is to explain exactly why “Slumdog Millionaire” soars to such great heights, and why it should be regarded as the best picture of 2008.

The term “narrative” usually denotes a written story, and strong narratives usually involve likable characters and a suspenseful conclusion. This film has all of these things, but its narrative is of a largely visual nature. Dazzling colors, slowly fading lights, and crowded city corridors tell the story of a young man who has to experience the worst of the world in order to gain access to the best of it.

Newcomer Dev Patel stars as Jamal Malik, a nervous but resolute orphan who exhibits a look that consistently resembles a deer caught in the headlights. Malik is bullied, beaten, and abandoned, but his resolve seems to come from the fact that he is unable to fully comprehend his misery. His ignorance compels him to face obstacles without the knowledge that he is almost certainly doomed to fail.

The film is thus largely an underdog story that eventually comes full circle. When we first see Malik he is a contestant on India’s version of Millionaire, but with each question we delve deeper and deeper into his past, entering a world of classism, doomed romance, exploitation, and betrayal. His pain is his inspiration, and in the knowledge that it gives him, we begin to see the beauty of fate.

But “Slumdog Millionaire” is far from a fairy tale, and Danny Boyle’s frenetic direction captures the heightened pulse of a world on edge. In the film’s first flashback, stationary cameras highlight the rhythm of legs flying through the air as children escape the tyranny of local police. The camera then pans out, multiplying the number of run-down shacks, until a village of decay flits before our eyes, appalling in its perverted grandeur.

In his undying hopefulness, Malik stands before a train track, waiting for his lost love to return to him. As the trains flash by, his life is played for him in slow motion. The agony and the ecstasy remind him of the way in which his life has prepared him for his destiny. And beside those train tracks, in the glow of the streetlights, Malik finally finds redemption.