Last night I finally went to see the super hyped movie Slumdog Millionaire. If you know me, then you know that I'm part blogger, part half-assed academic, and part film/concert geek. Be warned, I wrote this with little intention of bringing up any Asian American connections, but make of it what you will.

The first thing that turned me onto this movie was the heaps of praise that Videogum editor Lindsay Robertson showered onto it:

gabe: let your guard down
gabe: for once
lindsay: I did, when I saw Slumdog Millionaire!
lindsay: my guard was down for like, an hour

I couldn't believe it when I read this. Who, in their mid twenties to thirties, in the 21st Century, lets their guard down when watching any movie, especially one done by the guy who made the crazy zombie flick 28 Days Later? New Yorkers are dry and caustic, and like it or not, the qualities are contagious.

But then again, there is definitely something about Danny Boyle knowing how to tap into people's feelings through a number of magical things, including kids. There is this amazing scene, for example, and I won't tell you too much, but it involves a child, an outhouse, and the pile of shit that he has to crawl through in order to meet the most famous celebrity in India. I kid you not, this scene (the outrageousness of which was to be topped in later scenes) made me completely not care that the plotline was outrageous, and that nobody really believes in everlasting love underscoring this movie.

Which in some ways is the strength of its setting in Mumbai, a place that has become all too familiar in the tabloids as of late and doubly unimaginable. Boyle has somehow made us forget the horrors of what's happened there overseas, exposed its underbelly of people who suffer but are in love, and why not? A tragedy doesn't rob a city of its magic or its sentimentality, and neither should the recent headlines for this movie. In truth, a part of me didn't even realize or care that Slumdog took place in Mumbai. When I walked out of it with my boyfriend, one of the first things that he said about it was, "It felt like a completely fantastical sort of film." Indeed. Yours truly, the self-identified Daria Morgendorffer of the Blaaaging team, has been sold.

...so, I admit, I started this off as a "Holiday Gift Guide"-themed post of sorts but scrapped the idea when, suddenly, it dawned to me: why would anyone out there in our readership of tens, when looking for a gift to give, think about listening to the advice of a man and his mostly useless interest in politically progressive hip-hop? Why would you even continue to write this post? Could it have to do with the fact that, after finishing your last final paper, you rejected the most obvious next step (sleep) and instead weighed the idea of writing a blog post?