The White Tiger, starring Adarsh Gourav, Rajkumar Rao and Priyanka Chopra Jonas, is now streaming on Netflix and as one of the most awaited adaptations of the year, the film does an incredible job in bringing the Arvind Adiga’s award-winning book to life. The story revolves around Balram, a backward caste village-bred lad who dreams of breaking the wheels of fortune and climb up the social ladder in a system that constantly forces the poor to toe their line. But The White Tiger cannot be merely relegated to a rags-to-riches story, for it is equal parts cynical and satirical, topped with dark humour that both tickles the funny bones and crawls one’s skin simultaneously.
That the film has been directed by Ramin Bahrani, Adiga’s college friend and the same person to whom the novel is dedicated to, probably also has a lot to do with the way the text has been realised onscreen. The casting of Adarsh Gourav in the role of Balram was an applaud-worthy decision for it is his performance that makes the audience stick to his character even when does and says questionable things. The way Gourav, with his rage-filled eyes and cynical smile, switches accents and eventually talks to his viewers directly leaves a lasting impression. Rajkumar Rao, playing the role of an upper-caste Western-educated boy, is as incredible as always. Although somehow his struggle to imitate the American accent visibly affects his performance.
Priyanka Chopra Jonas, on the other hand, is a master of accents and she fits perfectly the role she plays. In fact, her character, Pinky, is developed in a more nuanced way in the film than what was given in the book, and it only adds to the quality of the script. To be very honest, I had always found Adiga’s story to be quite arid in the way it completely leaves women out of its story. For a novel that chooses to talk about caste and class inequalities, not writing a single woman with substance is one of the many controversies that surrounded Adiga’s work back when it was published. But Bahrani makes the conscious decision of transforming Pinky into a sensitive character and casting a major star in the role only underlines her significance in the plot.
What Is The White Tiger Plot About?
Born in a small village of Bihar, Balram’s (Adarsh Gourav) story is set into motion after his father, caught amidst a vicious cycle of systemic corruption, loses his life. Not wanting to meet the same fate, Balram wants to break out of the “rooster coop” – a state of being where he has to serve and surrender to the people belonging to the upper strata of the society. After years of struggles, Balram manages to get himself hired as the driver of an America-returned couple, Ashok (Rajkummar Rao) and Pinky (Priyanka Chopra Jonas). He follows them from Dhanbad to Gurgaon, all the while dreaming of the day when he will become the ‘master’. But Balram’s journey, replete with cinematic techniques previously seen in Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite, ends just as violently as the Oscar-winning masterpiece.
Throughout, Balram narrates this dark story of his life with infectious elation. His driving trainer tells him early on in the film, “The road is a jungle… A good driver must roar to get ahead on it.” From then he decides he will become the white tiger – a rare breed that is born once in every generation. The symbolism is high, for Balram eventually does end up being successful in his mission; he reaches his end goal despite the contestable means. But even the white tiger is born and bred in cages in most cases, and in a curiously similar manner, one questions if Balram has managed to break out of the rooster coup at all. For the wealthy man we finally meet is a lonely cynic who has no partner or friend around him – it is almost as if the upward social mobility has cost Balram his human soul.
A Story For The Western Gaze
I remember I was in high school when I first read Adiga’s novel. Being too young to understand the nuances of caste, religion and gender, I inadvertently fell in love with the book. While the lyricism of Adiga’s prose still rings in my ears, encountering the same story as an adult I am far from being as star-struck. Adiga’s rendering of Bihar is caricaturish, to say the least. He labels the place as “darkness” in contrast to the civilisation of Bangalore and Gurgaon – his description of village life borrows from so many stereotypes found in colonial literature.
Bahrani follows in the exact footsteps in showing India as imagined by the West. How else does one explain the opening scene where we are thrown in images of a statue of Gandhi, a cow strolling on the road, poverty-stricken people sleeping on streets and a Maharaja wearing shiny clothes and a turban? And finding all of this near Lutyens' Delhi, which is one of the poshest areas of the city, is an even faraway cry from reality. In addition, the story presents a very upper-caste view of the caste system and Bahrani also leaves out several parts of Adiga's text where Balram expresses his disgust for religion.
So while I absolutely cannot deny that the film is a wonderful adaptation of a book that continues to stir difficult conversations, and therefore is a must-watch, my personal growth in the last decade makes me wonder if the film would have left me with the same observations had the story not left such an impact on me as a teenager.
Picture Credit: Netflix
Views expressed are the author’s own.