‘The White Tiger’ Is A Frenetic Exploration Of Modern Day India’s Caste System

Growing up, I used to go to India every other year. Even at a young age, I caught onto the discrepancies between classes, which are more apparent than anything I had seen in suburban America. India’s caste system slaps you in the face as soon as you get off the plane. Cab drivers swarm you as you leave the terminal, hungry for the next fare, and it’s not uncommon to see tarps strung together to form slums on the drive home, with beggars on the corners of the street. But perhaps most striking is what happens within our own four walls. Middle class homes in India employ maids, cooks, drivers—a stark reminder of where one ranks on society’s scale, a reminder that some people can scrape through to the other side while others are left behind.

These days, there are two visible castes. “Men with big bellies, and men with small bellies,” according to Balram (Adarsh Gourav), the protagonist of the new Netflix film The White Tiger, who simplifies the world into a structure that people of all societies can understand: the haves and the have nots. Balram, a member of India’s servant class, is eager to climb the status ladder. He cons his way into becoming the driver of a wealthy coal family, befriending his young masters Ashok (Rajkummar Rao) and Pinky Madam (Priyanka Chopra Jonas) who see him as both a punching bag and a shoulder to lean on. But after a mishap that shows everyone’s true colors, Balram understands the true divide between them and realizes what it takes to make it in the world of the “big bellies”; the result is a frenetic bloodrush that will remind you of Slumdog Millionaire, but with more bite. 

Based on a book by Aravind Adiga and directed by Adiga’s close friend Ramin Bahrani, The White Tiger is an adaptation that steers closely to its origins and only builds on the fiery foundation of the novel. “The hardest part, really, in adapting the novel was cutting things because I like everything in the book,” Bahrani said in an interview with Decider. “[Adiga and I] have been friends for 25 years, and I had read rough drafts of the novel for four years before it was published. I felt very at home with the project. Most of [the voiceover] is Aravind’s writing and I had a lot of fun with it.” 

That the film doesn’t take liberties with the story and is faithful to its roots doesn’t hinder its effectiveness on screen. In fact, the film maintains a visual vibrancy that invites you in, even while it is showing you the underbelly of so-called democratic societies. Bahrani’s script and direction include many moments that jolt you into self-reflection. The opulence of the masters’ home is juxtaposed to the cement square that Balram lives in—at once making you feel uneasy and helpless by the disparity. In an early scene, Balram is intrigued by a bathroom air freshener. After spraying himself diligently, he discovers that it costs more than twice his month’s salary, and that revelation is enough to make you queasy.

Anchoring all of this is the breakout star, Adarsh Gourav, whose performance elevates every scene. To get into Balram’s head, Gourav took a somewhat method style approach. “I grew up in a city, so I thought it was very important for me to go live in a village and experience that life and perspective,” Gourav told Decider. “I [also] went to Delhi and worked at a food stall for a couple of weeks where I was just cleaning plates.” Bahrani added that while shooting, producer Mukul Deora spotted Gourav “squatting with a bunch of drivers waiting for their masters,” showing Gourav’s commitment to fully embodying the life of this character.

Gourav’s take on Balram is both salty and sweet. From the beginning, we know that Balram is not above bending the rules to get what he wants—he is very aware of the hand he has been dealt—but his status in society makes his ambitions understandable and his approach endearing. He is caring and cunning, ambitious and subservient—layered in ways that Dev Patel’s Jamal in Slumdog Millionaire was not. Gourav’s performance is only aided by Rao and Chopra Jonas who are so good at vacillating from abusive to protective, from flaunting their superiority to trying to stand on equal footing with Balram. 

While this is a specifically Indian story, the class struggle can be extrapolated to any modern society—it is especially timely given the current version of America that we are living in today. There are always those with big bellies and those with small bellies. Gourav and Bahrani hope that this film will “act as a mirror,” and that people will “introspect, question things, and think about their own lives.” 

And it’s hard to watch The White Tiger without that bit of introspection, even while on the fun and propulsive ride. The film is a triumph that really shows the plight of India’s lower class without making them pitiful or sad; a film that shows how governmental corruption maintains the status quo in society. It’s a classic rags-to-riches story that never slides into poverty porn. Instead, the performances and direction resemble a white tiger ready to pounce.

Radhika Menon (@menonrad) is a TV-obsessed writer based in New York City. Her work has appeared on Paste Magazine, Teen Vogue, and Brown Girl Magazine. At any given moment, she can ruminate at length over Friday Night Lights, the University of Michigan, and the perfect slice of pizza. You may call her Rad.

Watch The White Tiger on Netflix