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Bark of the Slumdog

Hello Oscar , meet " Slumdog Millionaire ."

There is a lot of deafening chatter going around that the triumph of the underdog drama "Slumdog Millionaire," an uplifting rags-to-riches fable about a dirt-poor teenager capturing the heart of a nation as he competes on India's most popular millionaire program, is the film to beat in the Best Picture race come Oscar time.

I'm not so sure about that, but it is not difficult to understand the film's appeal. It continues the tried and true cinematic tradition of seeing the underappreciated underdog triumph against unimaginable odds to get his due (and the girl) in the end. In our era of meager standards that might be enough to send it to the head of the class.

In truth, it is an implausible good-natured confection that doesn't come close to being in the Best Picture league. The film's multitalented director, Danny Boyle , places a lot more importance on frenetic camera cutting and nonstop music rather than real honest emotion, but its irresistibility will no doubt make it a huge commercial hit.

The promising opening sequence introduces us to Jamal ( Dev Patel ), the Mumbai-born "slumdog" hero of the title. Jamal is an uneducated teenaged orphan who works as a de facto barista at a call center, and who just happens to be a contestant and reigning champ on the nation's most popular program, "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?"

To the delight of the audience, he is able to rattle off the names of celebrated figures from film, literature and name the U.S. President that appears on the $100 bill. Therein is the riddle of the film: is he a genius or is he cheating? It is an ingenious plot structure full of suspense and dramatic possibilities. It's too bad it doesn't remain on course.

No contestant has made it this far in the game before, and in short order, the double-crossing Regis Philbin-esque host has Jamal strung up and tortured at the hands of Mumbai police to encourage him to confess.

It is a disturbing scene to be sure, but not half as disturbing as what is to come. The ensuing interrogation hopscotches through time and place as our hero recalls the traumatic childhood that has brought him to the hot seat of his current situation.

The memories are gut-wrenching. This is juxtaposed with an unfortunate scene depicting a prepubescent Jamal falling into the shit, literally, in order to get the autograph of his famous idol.

It isn't as humorous as it is supposed to be, but it does call to mind Ewan McGregor's notorious plunge into the most disgusting toilet in Scotland in the same director's 1996 film " Trainspotting."

The painful childhood scenes transport us to the poorest sections of India, tableaus full of gritty realism and human suffering that is difficult for most Americans to imagine. His mother is murdered during a Hindu riot, he is recruited and almost mutiliated at the hands of a leader of child-beggars and he dodges child molesters and murderous mobsters. Some childhood.

The trouble is, the film is at heart an unabashed romantic fable that has Jamal pining for his childhood dream girl crush ( Freida Pinto ). but three-fourths of the running time deals with homelessness, torture and child prostitution.

These scenes are undeniably powerful. But both their prominence and their power serve as a break on the momentum of the contemporary dramatic narrative.

Each of these episodes has taught Jamal something that informs his success on "Millionaire," but that fact is mitigated until the high-spirited third act.

Things do get better near the end. The thrilling last half-hour hits its stride during Jamal's climactic appearance on "Millionaire" before culminating in a great romantic train station finale that is a home run. It is suspenseful, romantic, energetic and more importantly, it is the reason people go to the theater in the first place.

The infectious dance sequence that stretches out through the closing credits is a much-needed blast of good cheer, so be sure to remain seated or miss the best part of the film. The third act is so good that I suspect a lot of people aren't going to care about the run-of-the-mill 100 minutes that came before it.

It is tempting to call "Slumdog Millionaire" a good film, but it isn't. Close, but no cigar.