Rating: A-
Early in The White Tiger, the latest film from writer/director Ramin Bahrani, and based on the bestselling novel from author Aravind Adiga, we are told not to expect a happy story where our hero wins a million rupees on a gameshow. A reference to 2008 Best Picture winner Slumdog Millionaire, this line tells us much of what we need to know about the film and its story.
The White Tiger is not here to offer good feelings or redemption. Like the book before it, the film is a stark critique of India’s caste system, which itself offers us a unique perspective on the idea of class, period. This is a weighty, complex tale of morality’s grey areas, and how quickly one might descend into the wrong no matter how hard they might try to be right.
The film follows the life of Balram (Adarsh Gourav), an uneducated, poor worker from one of India’s lower castes. Unsatisfied by his lot in life, he plots a way towards freedom by manipulating his way into the position of personal driver for Ashok (Rajkummar Rao), the son of his village’s landlord (Mahesh Manjekar). Initially happy with his supposed ascent, Balram slowly comes to realize that his financial betterment hasn’t actually improved his station in life, and he quickly becomes disillusioned with his opportunities. Can he find it in him to do what is necessary to gain actual freedom from the caste system that holds him down?
We know from the beginning that he does; the film’s structure is that of a now successful Balram, entrepreneur in Bangalore, recounting his story in the hopes of making connections with the Chinese government. But the route the story takes to get to that point is a twisting and turning journey that pierces the heart of the social construct, skewering the ideals that allow one to justify the financial and social oppression of others.
The White Tiger begins as something of a dark comedy of errors as Balram tries to break free from his family and his pre-ordained life working at a tea shop. As such, we quickly like Balram, different as he appears from his later image as successful businessman. Gourav plays Balram with a naïve innocence, firm in his belief that hard work and connections can lead him to a life he desires. His early success and cunning allow us to identify with and root for him as he does what so many poor but ambitious people have done before him.
But Bahrani does a brilliant job slowly bringing us to the realization that, for Balram, hope is a lie. Like all classist societies, the caste system he exists within is one that doesn’t allow for mere ambition to be the deciding factor of his ultimate fate. He is subject still to the whims of his masters, who would just as soon cast him aside as they might elevate him marginally higher. Bahrani manages to let this sink in slowly, very carefully crushing our hopes along with Balram’s.
At the same time, the story allows us to see the corrupting influences of greed and jealousy, bred as they are by a classist system. Balram’s story turns dark real fast, suggesting that ethics and morality are, in such belief systems, contrary to the ideals of bootstrapped success. Any success that Balram succeeds in finding is necessarily tainted, coming at a price that is objectively too high.
The White Tiger is, ultimately, a tale of tragic ambition, where happy endings are clouded by the decisions made to get to that point. Part morality tale and part scathing critique, it’s a film whose weight is worth carrying and considering, if only as a reminder of the potentially deadly mix of unchecked greed.
The White Tiger is now available on Netflix.
