But even that experience didn’t prepare me for the impact of Garth Davis’ cinematic take on these overwrought real life reunions. Like his long line of human-spirit triumphing forebears, Saroo Brierley’s story is built from the cement of life – familial bond, personal longing and the gut-driven search for a place to belong. But Lion goes further, muddying the concept of what actually constitutes that bond and that place.
Luke Davies’ screenplay, drawn from Saroo’s book, "A Long Way Home", traces a direct line from home lost to home found and back again, stopping along the way to tell a story so recognisable that it could very well have come from a committee of seasoned Hollywood screenwriters. A five year old kid begs to accompany his brother to work, he falls asleep and wakes up hundreds of kilometres from home. After a stint on the streets, he’s adopted out to an Australian family, flies to Australia, grows up in Hobart, and then attempts to reconcile his seeming happiness with the gnawing loss he feels inside.
There are minefields here, yet off the back of Davies’ deceptively safe screenplay and a brace of open-hearted performances (especially from Dev Patel as the grown up Saroo and Nicole Kidman as his adoptive mother, Sue Brierley), Lion not only navigates them adeptly, it brings emotional complexity to many of the concerns that usually sink melodramas such as this. Davis doesn’t shy away from the “white saviour” theme inherent in Saroo’s life story, nor does he shrink from the “poverty porn” that damaged previous Patel-starrer, Slumdog Millionaire. Lion engages with these ideas, recognises their shortcomings and their promise, then lights them from within. Davis and his cast explore the impact of these realities through the people who live them.
There is no judgement. There are only consequences.
So, while it is exceptionally traditional in its presentation, Lion is also exceptionally rich. The violence with which Saroo’s past threatens his present is felt in every bone of Patel’s performance. The enormity of the crash and the rapidity with which it suffocates his self-assured life takes the breath away. His Google Earth fuelled decent (something that could have quickly become tedious) is so inexorably tied to his cultural and familial frustrations that it becomes riveting in the most heartbreaking way imaginable. What Patel brings to the performance is the flesh that often gets forgotten in these stories.
Kidman, too, brings rarely seen depth to the adoptive mother trope. Her motivations and her pain (spilled out over the adoption of a second boy, Mantosh) are extremely present in Saroo’s narrative. Through her brittle performance, Kidman runs a parallel narrative without ever drawing the spotlight. It is a supporting performance that mirrors Sue Brierley’s own position; it is fully formed in its own right but totally devoted to another, for better and for worse.
On both counts, the power of these performances can be put down to the remarkable groundwork laid by newcomer Sunny Pawar. As young Saroo, he is a revelation. Emotions play across his face with absolute candour. The earnest joy of his life in Khandwa and the admiration he holds for his older brother are believable engines for Saroo’s life because Pawar sells them so vigorously. The life-ironing entrapment of Sue to her “foundling” son is believable because Pawar acts so endearingly lost – something that expands the situation’s complexities considerably. Pawar is the fire that fuels Lion’s expansive and conflicted heart.
To further discuss Lion is to go further into the depth of its cast. Each performance is linked inexorably to the power of the film’s soul searching narrative. Abhishek Bharate as Saroo’s older brother, Guddu, Priyanka Bose as his consciously-capturing mother, even Rooney Mara, who brings flourish to what is perhaps the film’s most thankless role, Saroo’s girlfriend, Lucy, all colour the film with their passion. In this, full credit must be paid to Davis’ exceptional direction. He not only draws this bareskinned honesty from everyone involved, he also, with the help of his cinematographer, Greig Fraser, sets them in a remarkable light. In the season of handsome production, Lion stands proudly at the top of the heap.
So, though I’ve intimated the fact already, I want to put it out there in no uncertain terms. I cried. I cried long and I cried hard. I cried through waves of joy. I cried through crushing uncertainty. I cried in despair. I cried in places that probably didn’t necessarily require tears. I cried for people who I’d not in other circumstances respect. I cried for those lost. I cried for those found. I cried for the strength of the bond between a mother and a son. I cried that this bond can reach beyond borders and beyond blood.
I’ve even cried rewatching the trailer. I’ve cried relating the story to friends.
I’m crying now.
★★★★
Trailer:
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