The White Tiger (2021) Review
“You ask ‘Are you a man or a demon?’ Neither, I say. I have woken up, and the rest of you are sleeping, and that is the only difference between us.”
Ramin Bahrani’s The White Tiger, based on the novel of the same name by Aravind Adiga, is one of the latest films released on Netflix’s roster. This is a film, like Slumdog Millionaire, that paints a very Americanized portrait of what India looks like; less so here in terms of visual design but moreso in dialogue choices and character actions. Though the actions themselves may not seem unrealistic at times, it’s the cartoonish characterization that leads it feeling disingenuous at first; but simultaneously purposeful as well. Bahrani released his critically acclaimed micro-budget film, Man Push Cart, in 2005 — to which Roger Ebert hailed as a masterpiece in filmmaking. Two years later, he released Chop Shop — to which Roger Ebert hailed him as the director of the decade. Those two films are filled with nuance and humanity; such raw emotion that can only sometimes be found in an up-and-coming director. With The White Tiger, the follow-up to Barhani’s critically panned Fahrenheit 451 adaptation, I believe he proves he can make a more humanistic “blockbuster-oriented” film that’s palatable for general audiences; this one using India as a backdrop. And though I had my complaints on who this film is really for (Americans) -- it never feels as exploitative as Slumdog Millionaire does. And in fact, it feels as if it wants to actually teach the audience something; less shock value and more genuine interest in this “other world.”
The film tells the story of Balram Halwai (Adarsh Gourav), born into a lower caste, and his struggle of breaking free from the role of a servant into becoming his own master. In his breakthrough performance — Gourav proves he has the capability to play a leading role, outshining even acting veterans Priyanka Chopra and Rajkummar Rao alike. The call-to-action begins when Halwai decides to infiltrate the home of The Stork, his village’s landlord, located in Delhi. He does so by loosely befriending The Stork’s son, Ashok (Rao), as well as his fiance, Pinky (Chopra). Off the get-go, the film wants you to empathize with Balram; he’s weak, pushed around, and stuck in the grimey contained world of Indian poverty. As the film progresses, however, we start to see the evolution of his character; arguably the most important and unique part of the film. Because as this journey goes along, we realize that Balram isn’t your stereotypically “nice guy” character; it’s a bit more complicated than that -- as it should be. And though the film opens with him writing a letter to Wen Jibao, Former Premier of the People’s Republic of China, recounting his “deeply dark” tale of entrepreneurship — he is still a likeable character at first. Everyone wants to root for an underdog.
This is a film about the loss of morality; not about making it big in a capitalistic society, as it attempts to fool the viewer off the bat. Constantly throughout the picture, we see Balram question his own motives as well as those of his masters. He describes this as a facet of those that come from Indian poverty; “being trapped in the rooster coop” — unwilling to break the chains and forge one’s own destiny. Ashok, recently returned from America, has big dreams to integrate back into his culture alongside his fiance. Though the comparisons between American and Indian society feels fair to acknowledge here; I feel as if it was done in a very shallow manner that spelled everything out through its dialogue. I wish this could have been explored further in a more naturalistic manner but, once again, isn’t necessarily the entire point of the film.
What this film excels at however is showing the viewer what it takes to push someone, in Balram’s position, over the edge; this is not a heroic tale. When Balram chooses to cross the line for his freedom, his decision is calculated and clear. We are no longer rooting for the underdog anymore — but someone who has become numb to the pressures of a society which never cared about him in the first place. Many are comparing this film to Academy Award winning Picture Parasite — but I’d say it feels a lot more like Joker. And as tiring as these comparisons get, I can’t help but mention it. Though I wouldn’t argue Joker glorifies mental illness, as some have panned it to be, I wouldn’t say that it necessarily has a clear-cut message either. What Joker loses in its grand attempt to be an “art-house” comic book film, The White Tiger succeeds in clearly conveying its inspiration from “real life”; and it excels because of it. There is no moment of madness that consumes Balram by the end. He has become calm, calculated, and in control; the only way he has realized to succeed in his world. He has become his own worst enemy.
