A Dark, Engaging Satire of India’s Caste System
A white tiger only comes once in a generation. To be labeled as one means to be destined for greatness. “You are a white tiger,” Balram (Adarsh Gourav) is told when he is chosen over his classmates to be given a scholarship to a prestigious school. Unfortunately, Balram’s dreams are cut short when his father dies and he is forced to forgo his education in order to work and support his family. But those words never leave his mind.
Comparable to 2019’s smash-hit “Parasite,” “The White Tiger” is a 2021 Netflix original directed by Ramin Bahrani and adapted from the 2008 Man Booker Prize winning book of the same name, written by Aravind Adiga. In its most basic sense, this is a rags-to-riches story, but Bahrani is more interested in exploring the complexities of the Indian caste system as laid out in Adiga’s novel than in following a traditional narrative.
This can be seen in the way Bahrani paces the plot. In an average Hollywood movie, what would be the inciting incident, usually reserved for the fifteen-minute mark, doesn’t come until halfway through the movie. What would be the midpoint doesn’t come until the last twenty minutes. Bahrani lures us in with it at the beginning of the movie, but then takes us a step back and asks us to wait. For the most part, this movie is all about the setup, charging for an impactful gut-punch.
However, you won’t find your interest waning as you are taken many years into the past, following Balram out of his small village into the service of a wealthy family as a chauffeur. Balram’s interactions with this family are at the core of “The White Tiger.” The disdain with which he is treated is the first and most obvious criticism, but is taken a step further by showing us how supposed kindness can easily tip into the realm of condescension and ignorance. This is illustrated by the youngest son (Rajkummar Rao) and his wife, (Priyanka Chopra) who take Balram under their wing. They proclaim to be more open-minded as if by this fact alone they are elevated above their family, but never really put themselves at risk of doing anything. They pat themselves on the back as they sit comfortably in their lavish apartment proclaiming the unfairness of the caste system while Balram sleeps in a dirty parking garage. Time will show how facile their open-mindedness really is.
This is where the real power of the movie comes into play. Balram is continuously reminded he is only a servant, and if there is ever a moment where the lines begin to blur, he is quickly put back in his place. Within him is a deep-seated, brewing resentment. Nobody will save him. If he wants to change his circumstances, he will have to do it himself. In a humorous quip, Balram even remarks that his problems won’t be solved by winning a million rupees in a TV game show, referencing “Slumdog Millionaire,” (2008) in which a boy finds himself on an Indian version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.” Although the two movies may have similar settings, their overall messages come to completely different conclusions.
Utilizing method acting practices similar to the likes of Rober De Niro in “Taxi Driver,” (1976), Gourav took on a job at a tea shop in order to prepare for his role as Balram. It paid off in a big way, garnering him world-wide praise for his performance. He navigates the complexities of his character’s unsteady landscape with deft subtlety, communicating sincere pain behind the facade of a practiced smile.
In the end, the voice-over narration may be too much for some, but in this dark satire Bahrani pulls off a stellar job of showing the poverty of India and the rigid caste system in place that makes it so hard for many people to rise out of it. Balram’s answer to that problem may be bleak, but it proves a point, a point driven home by the compelling performances of the cast.
