It is very easy for a movie directed by a European about India to be pathetically condescending in its nature, coming in with the intention of unveiling some sort of truth about a foreign land to Western audiences. I feel Danny Boyle approached India in this manner in his film Slumdog Millionaire. Outside of the fact that it was a painfully-contrived film that had little to no merit as art, it was a self-congratulatory project made to educate the masses.

So it is a mystery to me how a French director in 1951 could shoot an English film in India that avoids this problem, considering the possibility of a colonialist perspective. Then I remember this is Jean Renoir we are talking about here, an absolute master of his craft and above all, a filmmaker who understands individuals. Often, a great filmmaker is one who has a curiosity and love for his or her subjects: Renoir, Ozu, Herzog, etc. Jean Renoir, as an outsider filming in a country he is not familiar with, approached India with a sense of curiosity rather than a sort of arrogance, intending to show Western audiences question by question different aspects of the country. There is a great sense of humility in how Renoir approaches his setting and his characters in this movie, the same love and care he puts into all of his films.

More than anything, this is a film about growing up and struggling with identity in the context of a globalizing world. The movie is seen through the eyes of Harriet, a young British girl who describes herself as an ugly duckling. Like her best friend Valerie and the rest of the girls in her family, she finds herself naively in love with Captain John, a former soldier who lost his leg in World War II and is staying with the family next door to Harriet. Captain John, played by amateur actor Thomas E. Breen who actually had a prosthetic leg, moved to India in search of a place he could call home. He had become an outsider after the war, and no matter where he goes, he struggles to feel welcome. He stays in the same house as Harriet’s young friend Melanie and her father. Half Indian and half British, Melanie went to a Westernized school and was mostly raised by her British father, yet at the same time she does not want her mother’s culture to be forgotten. She and Harriet both face important issues that come with growing up, discovering the world around them, love and also death, in one of the most devastating moments ever put to film.

India looks beautiful in the film with the lives of the characters taking place on the Bengal River in gorgeous Technicolor. And although this film couldn’t have taken place anywhere else and been the same, it deals with themes that are so universal: questions of identity and maturity, living in a post-war society and even the power of memory, how we remember the days of our youth. With some footage of India that feels straight out of a documentary, The River is genuine in all aspects: its story, characters, emotions, and even the process of making the film itself. True, the actors in the film were young and/or amateur, and it sometimes shows in the delivery of the lines. However, there is, as is always the case, a sense that Renoir cares about each and every character, and the appreciation of the actors and the setting is what makes this movie so special.