Directed by:
Garth DavisScreenplay:
Luke DaviesCinematography:
Greig FraserCast:
Dev Patel, Sunny Pawar, Priyanka Bose, Tannishtha Chatterjee, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Deepti Naval, David Wenham, Nicole Kidman, Todd Sampson, Rooney Mara (more)VOD (1)
Plots(1)
Five-year-old Saroo finds himself alone and travelling on the wrong train away from his home in northern India. Frightened and bewildered, he ends up thousands of miles away, in chaotic Kolkata. Somehow he survives living on the streets, dodging all sorts of terrors in the process. Eventually ending up in an orphanage, Saroo is adopted by an Australian couple, and finds safety and love as he grows up in Hobart. Not wanting to hurt his adoptive parents' feelings, he buries his past, his emotional need for reunification and his hope of ever finding his lost mother and brother. But a chance meeting with some fellow Indians reawakens his secret yearnings. With just a small store of memories, and the help of some newly-developed satellite-imaging technology, Saroo embarks on one of the greatest needle-in-a-haystack quests of modern times. Adapted from the incredible true story A Long Way Home by Saroo Brierley. (Transmission Films)
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Reviews (8)
The first half, set in India, is almost worthy of a full rating, it makes you realise how spoiled and pampered our Western civilisation is, with all the packed supermarkets, hygiene standards and plenty of drinking water. The Indian realities are fantastically rendered here, last seen so impressively in a Hollywood studio film 9 years ago in Slumdog Millionaire. Unfortunately, the rest of the film is a drawn out thing that could have been told in 10 minutes, while emotionally it only slightly touched me. It’s a shame, the potential was there. This film is proof of what masters the Weinstein brothers are at promoting their films in the pre-Oscars season, the boys are able to push it beautifully with academics and journalists, the nominations are out of whack.
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Dev Patel has come a long way from the nerdy from the slum, Rooney Mara surprised us with her civility, and Nicole Kidman reaffirmed her skill and the weight of her stardom, which very often provides a compass to quality cinematic experiences. I took a deep breath and slowly returned to the roots of my love for Indian cinema, inspired by a series of dramas in the same vein as Lion. If you're not indifferent to pathos and consider the story to be the center of the film narrative, you've come to the right place.
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The exciting first third of Lion with the lost Sunny Pawar is excellent. The boy is ready to be welcomed by Hollywood,
where such a photogenic and talented child actor appears once in a decade. In the later parts of the film, however, there
are plot inconsistencies with respect to cause and effect, and the lengthy, straightforward tear-jerking at the end
completely spoils the movie.
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For me, Dev Patel is one of the very interesting and talented young actors. The Indian environment interests me because it is different, because it is both beautiful and dark in its poverty. Both aspects came together beautifully in Lion, where you wish for the finale, even though you know it won't come without a cost. A very intense film, and I mean that in a good way.
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Whether you like it or not, a heart string press based on actual events is its own category, too, and within that category Lion doesn't deliver anything downright tasteless or silly. That's mostly due to the focus on the cheerless conditions in India, especially if you're a kid who's sick of permanent rape, and especially the almost documentary-like cinematography of this magically chaotic landscape. The camera also helps, which spends the first act skillfully scanning the surroundings, often from the position of the five-year-old protagonist, or following him almost neorealistically through the clutter of the city from afar. The actual searches and the visually depicted emotional bonding became a little yawn-inducing, but I think that's mostly due to the more challenging empathetic connection of a white, contented bastard from central Europe (me, that is) who has little in common with an Indian adopted orphan. I don't blame the stroking of the wall and the melancholy soaking in water at all, and if I did, every five minutes of Rooney Mara is a funfair for me.
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