'The White Tiger' Review: A Rise and Fall Story... with No Fall
NETFLIX’S “THE WHITE TIGER”, ADAPTED FROM ARAVIND ADIGA’S NOVEL OF THE SAME NAME, IS A CONVENTIONALLY UNCONVENTIONAL PORTRAYAL OF AN INDIA UPRISING THAT KEEPS RISING…AND RISING…AND RISING.
Of all the voices I thought would kick off a satire of the Indian caste system, I never considered Jay-Z to be on the list. Yet, with “The White Tiger”, here we are: the servant driver in the backseat, his masters drunkenly whipping a white Pajero through the cow-occupied streets of Delhi, and a Jay-Z-ified remix of Panjabi MC’s “Mundian To Bach Ke” blaring through the scene. Even Balram, our humble chauffeur turned ruthless entrepreneur acknowledges the non-traditional nature of it all, graciously pausing the movie to apologize to his audience, “this is no way to start a story. I’m Indian after all.” Shortly after, we proceed into the film in a much tamer manner, for even a non-traditional Indian story has to be told in a traditionally Indian way, right?
When the story “restarts”, we see Balram (Adarsh Gourav) in his final form, an established entrepreneur. Ponytail slicked back, he meditates in front of wallpaper riddled with tacky flamingos, relishing in a kitsch luxury. According to him, the best way to start an Indian story is to pray to a god, and it doesn’t matter which one. His chosen deity? Premier of China, Wen Jiabao, en route to India to meet with leading Indian entrepreneurs. And his prayer? An lengthy email pontificating his life story and serving as the film’s lengthy narration. Balram’s voiceover promises stability, custom and convention. In fact, the perspective of the film is so focused on following the “rules”, it begs the question: what compels a man so clearly disconnected from Indian heritage, to tell his story in such a by-the-book manner?
For the rest of the film’s runtime, we are treated to Balram’s rags-to-riches tale, committed to tradition, but in a constant silent rebellion. It’s a distinction similar to how Balram describes the model Indian entrepreneur, “straight and crooked, mocking and believing, sly and sincere.” Seeing this type of duality play out in Balram’s journey is breathtaking, and Gourav’s ability to pivot from aloof to conniving is hypnotic. However, when the same type of duality is transposed into the film’s screenplay, it makes for a contested viewing experience. The many intricate plots and schemes conjured up on screen are played out in such a benign manner, that the taste for a spicier version of the story is coupled with the realization that it may only be because the one presented tastes pretty bland. If the film’s promise is convention, convention is what is delivered.
From it’s bait-and-switch opening, to its blistering class commentary, to its characters, each constrained by their societal chains, “The White Tiger”, adapted from Aravind Adiga’s novel of the same title, is a customary picture of a devilishly unconventional servant. Compared to “Slumdog Millionaire”, “Life of Pi”, and other India-centric American productions, the storytelling of “The White Tiger” is dispensed in a rather streamlined manner. This is not to say that the convolutedness of “Slumdog” or the highly symbolic nature of “Pi” are effective, but at the very least, the mechanisms of these films create more intrigue (for better or worse).
The themes and analysis of “The White Tiger” are so strong, that perhaps a little more nudging in the rebellish direction could have done the film some good. What the film does spectacularly and maybe better than other similar movies, is allow the audiences time to enter this unknown world without overwhelming them; 3,000 castes are boiled down to two, “low” and “high”; servant life is boiled down to basics; political hierarchies neatly labeled and stacked; intricacies of Indian life are boiled down to their simplest most humanistic forms.
The simplification and immersion of and within Indian life is balanced with the complexity of the characters that populate it. Balram’s direct master, Ashok, returning from America with his New Yorker (but also Indian) wife, Pinky, provide a much needed contrast to Balram’s initial beliefs on servitude. Unlike Ashok’s father and brother, who physically and verbally abuse the driver, the couple go out of their way to treat Balram as an equal. The disconnect within the family about how to treat Balram and other Indian customs serves as a vehicle to drive Balram to do whatever it takes to achieve success, entrepreneurship, a his self-proclaimed status as “the white tiger”, a creature that arises “once-in-a-generation” prophesied early in his youth. Once kindness is shown, Balram discovers his way out of the “Rooster Coop” of India’s impoverished. For the humble driver, the path to becoming the white tiger is unapologetic, and has to happen at any and all costs.
About halfway through, when the story catches up to its original opening, with Balram being driven around by Ashok and his wife with Jay-Z on the radio, the real drama unfolds. The front end of the film provides a much needed, but ultimately predictable context for the sequence of events that play out in the back half. But once the ball is rolling, it moves quickly and destructively. The stasis of the film is broken, and we finally see Balram emerge. Is it too little too late? Not necessarily. Though the end of the film is satisfying, the road to get there is a tad monotonous at times.
The prerogative of the film is to be rooted in its snowball effect, a reversal of the “pay it forward” symptom of the world. If kindness is not meant to thrive in the caste system, what are the consequences of its introduction. The film makes it cynically and abundantly clear: when you give a mouse a cookie, you get a white tiger. As the film’s conclusion lingers ahead, Balram’s final scene solidifies “The White Tiger” as another occupant of the same cinematic realm in which “Joker” and “Nightcrawler” reside. A rise and fall (sans fall), the final scene of the film packs a horrifyingly quiet punch. It’s an end credit conversation worth powering through the flaws of the film for.
And, if there is a “fall”, it's in the irony that lingers after the screen turns black. Balram, convinced that the “new world” is the world of the yellow and brown man, fails to recognize that the systems that allowed him to manifest into his final form, the kindness taken advantage of, the possessive capitalist spirit, stem from his master’s American values. Even though Balram believes the age of the white man has come to a close, white tigers are still on the table. But as majestic and ferocious as the white tiger is, the animal is only as dangerous as the cage surrounding it.