A story about two boys living in the slums of Chennai is bound to be linked to Slumdog Millionaire and the film's marketing machine did exactly that.

It's quite misleading given any similarities between Danny Boyle's feel good favourite and The Crow's Egg (Kaakaa Muttai) start and end with two boys living in the slums of Chennai. Granted, this is also a snappy, feel-good film which has a thing or two to say about class disparity along the way, but the scope is smaller and the rewards scaled appropriately.

M. Manikandan's film has a raw, almost naïve quality which is the main source of its charm (that and the irrepressible smiles of it's heart-breakingly cute lead actors). So when the narrative takes a couple of sudden, uncontrolled turns before bearing down on a protracted ending, it has already built up so much good will that we all slide effortlessly to the rousing finale.

To help feed their family, Crow's Egg and his younger brother (Little Crow's Egg) collect loose lumps of coal from train yards – Dad is in jail and any money their mother had has been spent trying to get him a hearing. Meanwhile the local authority has razed the boy's 'playground' to build a pizza restaurant, food neither of them has ever tasted. Naturally they want to and divert some of their funds to A) buy clean clothes so they can enter the store and B) buy a pizza. All up, it's about three months worth of long, hard work. Thus Grandma tries making one for the boys using naan bread and a picture for guidance: how hard can it be? Let's just say it doesn't work out for her.

Manikandan doesn't shy from presenting the slum in all its fetid, disease ridden squalor, but he doesn't push too hard with any social agenda either. It's the context of his story and any commentary he does make is more persuasive because of his gentle approach: such as questioning those who prey on aspirational desire of the poor by placing such a restaurant next to a slum. Or a government who, in the run up to local elections, hands out television sets. Mother and grandmother get one each creating a two-TV family that can barely afford shelter, clothes or food, and certainly nothing as extravagant as a pizza.

Then the incident, a slap to the face which ignites the media and mobilises the slum, turning the boys into national heroes. Yes it's all a bit heavy handed – intrusive music, endless slo-mo – but such is the good will generated by Manikandan's likeable characters (and the boy's irrepressible smiles) that you'll cheer along with the crowd before heading out in search of dinner. Not pizza of course – that's the last thing you'll want.

// COLIN FRASER

Previewed at Sony Theatre, Sydney on 6 November 2015