NYAFF ’19: Jinpa

Many contemporary mysteries cover forensic matters in graphic detail, but hardly any address the spiritual repercussions of murder. However, in Tibetan, karma trumps more mundane worldly concerns. One murder definitely begets bad karma and perhaps another murder to come in Pema Tseden’s Jinpa, which screens during the 219 New York Asian Film Festival.

Meet Jinpa the Tibetan truck driver, who is played by Jinpa, the uni-named Tibetan actor and poet, who gives a lift to a hitchhiker also named Jinpa. Before stopping to pick up the standoffish younger man, Jinpa somehow ran over a sheep, which was odd, considering the desolate openness of that stretch of highway. As a devout Buddhist, the incident clearly shakes Jinpa (the driver). Ye, he initially takes it in stride when the younger Jinpa matter-of-factly tells him he has tracked down his father’s killer to a village on the hardscrabble Kekexili Plateau, so he now intends to murder him in turn.

After seeking prayers and religious guidance for the sheep at the nearest monastery, the older Jinpa retraces his steps, hoping to find the younger Jinpa, but his purposes are not clear. Does he want to prevent the other Jinpa from irreparably damaging his karma, or does he have darker motives? All will not be illuminated through a series of visually striking flashbacks (Tseden’s technique of sharply focusing on the Jinpa in the foreground, while blurring the characters in the background could become widely imitated). Who knows, maybe the Jinpas are the same person?

Tseden is a major world-caliber auteur, well-and-beyond his importance as an independent Tibetan voice and chronicler of everyday Tibetan life. Jinpa the film is a heavy statement, but at times, it is either too obvious or too murky. There is no question Ritu Sarin & Tenzing Sonam’s The Sweet Requiem functions more successfully as a Tibetan revenge thriller, but the visuals crafted by Tseden and cinematographer Lu Songye still demand your attention.

Jinpa (the thesp) is terrific as Jinpa (the elder), creating a persona that is both compellingly devout and world-weary. As Jinpa the Younger, Genden Phuntsok has a screen presence worthy of spaghetti westerns. Yet, Sonam Wangmo steals all her scenes, like you’ve never seen before, as the snarky, but weirdly hospitable innkeeper. Honestly, she could be a star in any country.

Jinpa is an intriguing film, but its meditative merits could also be uncharitably described as “slow cinema.” Frankly, this is the sort of film NYAFF programmers used to mock back in the day, but it is an important work of cinema, so the festival deserves credit for being the first to bring it to New York. Recommended for those who want to be temporarily immersed in the Tibetan landscape and head-space, Jinpa screens this Saturday (6/29), as part of NYFF ’19.

ND/NF ’17: The Summer is Gone

The sad truth is China has become far more oppressive than it was in the 1980s. It was not paradise, but you could breathe under Deng Xiaoping and Hu Yaobang (remember, it was the death of the latter, purged in 1986 that helped spark the Tiananmen Square protests). Things would take a turn for the worse in the 1990s, but a young boy growing up in Inner Mongolia is blissfully oblivious of the macro forces at work, at least until they directly intrude into his life in Zhang Dalei’s The Summer is Gone (trailer here), which screens during this year’s New Directors/New Films.

Young Zhang Xiaolei looks up to his father, Chen, whose work at a local film studio gets then admitted to the movies for free. He basically tolerates his school teacher mother Guo, because she is the practical one who worries about getting him admitted to a respectable middle school. He is small for his age, but he still enjoys a largely carefree summer. However, a chance encounter with a teenage bully stokes some unhealthy hero-worship in Zhang. His irresponsible nature will also finally start to try his parents’ patience as they struggle to care for his dying great-grandmother just as Chen loses his job in the first wave of state enterprise privatizations.

Summer boasts Tibetan auteur Pema Tseden as one of its producers, but it feels most aesthetically akin to the work of Edward Yang. You can feel the sun and humidity and smell the wild flowers through the starkly beautiful black-and-white cinematography of Lu Songye (who also lensed Tseden’s Tharlo). It is a coming-of-age story, but Zhang’s attitude towards the era is more bitterly elegiac than sentimentally nostalgic, essentially lamenting: “if only they had known what was in store for them.”

Much like Tseden, Zhang employs a “non-professional” cast of actors, who are really quite professional. As Zhang Xialoei, Kong Weiyi is convincingly bratty in a Huck Finn kind of way, but he also conveys great depth and sudden maturity when faced with personal disappointments and familial tribulations. Zhang Chen plays his father with slow-burning intensity, but it is Guo Yanyuan who really gives the film heart and soul as his quietly forceful, chronically under-appreciated mother.

Zhang’s postscript: “Dedicated to the generation that birthed ours” is a massively potent kicker, because it basically confirms the nature and frequency of sacrifices the third act implies are soon to be visited upon provincial families like Zhang Xiaolei’s. Yet, Zhang Dalei only blames himself (and his analog) for not making better use of the time they had. It is a film of exquisite sensitivity, but it is also surprisingly tough. Highly recommended for those who follow independent Chinese cinema and anyone who likes a good family drama, The Summer is Gone screens this Thursday (3/16) at the Walter Reade and Friday (3/17) at MoMA, as part of ND/NF 2017.

Pema Tseden’s Tharlo

For centuries, the sight of a shepherd with a pony tail has been common place in Tibet. However, things have changed in the nation, just as the occupying power intended. Filmmaker Pema Tseden often pointed out such truths—getting arrested and badly battered for his efforts—or so international observers suspect. Again, details are sketchy, just as the Communist authorities want them. The circumstances surrounding Tseden’s incarceration and hospitalization makes the piteous fate of his latest cinematic protagonist all the more poignant. In addition to the cultural oppression, the CP occupation also has a corrosive moral influence in Tseden’s Tharlo (trailer here), which opens a week-long run this Wednesday at MoMA.

Tharlo has come to the nearest provincial administrative center to receive his I.D. card, but has no context for the errand. Frankly, he is not even used to being addressed by name. Never before has he had to prove his identity. Of course, the local police chief finds Tharlo’s bemusement amusing. He is also condescendingly impressed by the Tibetan shepherd’s ability to recite a long Chairman Mao speech, even though mostly of the ideological meaning is lost on him.

Of course, an I.D. card needs a photo, so Tharlo will have to visit the local photographer catering to such business. She in turn sends him across the street to get his hair washed by the hairdresser, Yangtso. She makes quite an impression on the traditional herder with her short hair and modern attitudes. She also happens to be young and attractive. The flirtatious time they share together leads Tharlo to question his pastoral life, but his growing doubts will distract him at inopportune times.

Adapting his own novella, Tseden creates a parable of modernist temptation and subsequent downfall that eclipses Dreiser in its tragic significance. Although the local authorities are not Tharlo’s direct antagonists, Tseden makes it clear they created the climate that made his victimization possible.  The film is also visually stunning thanks to the vastly cinematic vistas of Tharlo’s Tibetan plains and Lu Songye’s stark black-and-white photography.

Despite the rugged locales, Tharlo is a relentlessly intimate film filled with uncomfortable silences and telling moments. As the title character, Tibetan comedian Shide Nyima looks like his picture should be in the dictionary next to the term “world-weary.” His haggardness is plain to see, but his innocence is just as palpable. He and Tibetan actress-vocalist Yangshik Tso develop some highly ambiguous but undeniably potent romantic chemistry together. Rather than just playing the femme fatale, she gives the worldly Yangtso subtle flesh and blood dimension.

Initially, Tharlo’s ability to rattle off Mao’s secular sermon seems rather surreal, but the third act reprise is so bitterly ironic it might leave an aftertaste of bile behind. Yet, Tseden is primarily a stroryteller, who only lets political implications seep in through osmosis. Nevertheless, there is clearly more truth in his films (such as Old Dog) than the Party is comfortable with. Highly recommended for viewers with adult attention spans, Tharlo opens this Wednesday (9/28) at MoMA.

BFF ’12: Old Dog

In news of yet more outrageous but hardly surprising interference in Tibetan affairs, China has just announced an open-ended ban on foreign tourism to the occupied country.  However, friends and admirers of the Himalayan nation can still get a glimpse into the on-the-ground realities there through Pema Tseden’s narrative feature Old Dog (trailer here), which screens tonight at the Brooklyn Heights Cinema, as part of the 2012 BrooklynFilm Festival.

Not content with Tibet’s sovereignty, China also covets its dogs.  For the Chinese nouveau riche, nomad mastiffs are the newest status symbol.  It is a seller’s market, assuming unscrupulous dog merchants do not steal the traditional family canines first.  Dog-nappings are so pervasive, Gonpo figures he might as well sell his father-in-law Akku’s beloved pet and at least get some money for him.  Akku does not see it that way, enlisting the help of his a local copper kinsman to retrieve the shaggy pooch.  Unfortunately, the dog brokers are not about to forget about so prized a pooch.

If Jia Zhangke remade Old Yeller, it might look something like Old Dog.  Helmed by Tibetan auteur Pema Tseden (a.k.a. Wanma Caidan when he is in China), it is a slight departure for distributor dGenerate Films, the independent Chinese cinema specialists.  However, Tseden’s naturalistic documentary-like approach is quite in line with the Digital Generation style for which they are named.  He and cinematographer Sonthar Gyal capture the sweeping grandeur of the landscape, as well as the hardscrabble nature of life for Tibetans, both in cities and in the countryside.  It is also clear the last fifty-three years have been devastating for contemporary Tibetan architecture.

Amongst a cast clearly at home on the Tibetan Steppe, Lochey gives a remarkably assured performance as Akku.  Deeply human and humane, his character bears witness to the steady corrosion of traditional Tibetan values, but he does not necessarily do so silently.  Drolma Kyab’s performance as the hash-up son-in-law Gonpo is also quite honest and engaging.  Indeed, the small ensemble is so completely unaffected and natural on-screen, Old Dog could easily pass for a documentary.  Yet, it has a very real dramatic arc.

Already the focus of a career retrospective at the Asia Society (amounting to two films at the time), Tseden is a filmmaker of international stature.  Taking some subtly implied but recognizable jabs at Chinese hegemony over Tibet, Old Dog is his boldest film yet.  Cineastes will earnestly hope there will be more to follow.  Quietly powerful, Old Dog is highly recommended during this year’s BFF.  It screens tonight (6/8) at the Brooklyn Heights Cinema, with Tseden appearing for Q&A afterward, as well as this Saturday (6/9) at IndieScreen in Williamsburg.

Soul-Searching in Tibet: The Silent Holy Stones

Kids love to park in front of the TV. Evidently that even includes young Tibetan monks. At least the programming is somewhat educational in Pema Tseden’s feature directorial debut, The Silent Holy Stones, which concludes Soul-Searching in Tibet, the Asia Society’s two film retrospective of the Chinese-trained Tibetan filmmaker’s work.

The young Monk is preparing for his yearly visit home for Losar, the Tibetan festival of the New Year. Though reasonably dutiful, he and an even younger reincarnated Tulku can hardly wait to sneak a peek at the lama’s television. Rather than worldly programming though, they are enthralled by the story of Drime Kunden, the revered Buddhist figure who looms large throughout Pema Tseden’s relatively limited filmography.

Returning home with his father, the young monk is delighted to discover his family’s newest prized possessions, a television, DVD player, and the multi-disc set of Journey to the West, the epic story of Tansen Lama’s pilgrimage. In fact, the prospect of television at home makes it difficult for the young boy to sit through his grown brother’s traditional production of Drime Kunden.

In many ways, the young monk embodies the conflicts between the traditional and the modern at play in Holy. Yet, it only applies so far. While captivated by the edifying Buddhist epics, he has no use for the Hong Kong action flick playing in the village’s improvised movie house. Indeed, though he might be as prone to distraction as are most ten year olds, he is still devout in his way.

A gentle soul, the young monk’s innocent perspective makes Holy a sweetly endearing film. The young lead, Luosang-danpei, has a remarkably winning presence for a non-professional child actor and a smile that lights up the screen. Following him through the monastery and his hardscrabble village is surprisingly fascinating, even oddly hypnotic.

Though Pema Tseden (credited here under his Chinese name Wanma Caidan) never oversells the point, there is a wistful sense that modernism might have the upper hand over traditionalism, even in this remote corner of Tibet. For instance, to his grandfather’s disgust, his brother’s Drime Kunden is immediately followed by so-called “disco” dancing. Yet, as represented by the rarified stone carvings of his grandfather’s old friend, Holy never denies the value of tradition.

Holy might be a simple slice-of-life style film, but its remote settings and thoroughly likeable young protagonist make it a pretty exceptional life to witness. While it will probably seem a bit slow to multiplex audiences, it moves along quite briskly compared to the deliberate work of many contemporary independent Chinese filmmakers. A film of quiet but abundant charms, Holy screens this coming Thursday (4/15) when Soul-Searching in Tibet concludes at the Asia Society.

Soul-Searching in Tibet: The Search

Evidently, castings calls are not a simple process in Tibet. A director scours remote provinces for actors suitable for his planned cinematic adaptation of the traditional Tibetan opera Drime Kunden, but the fruits of his efforts are somewhat mixed in Pema Tseden’s The Search, the first installment of Soul-Searching in Tibet, a two film retrospective of the Chinese-trained Tibetan filmmaker, that screens this Saturday at the Asia Society.

Prince Drime Kunden is a revered Buddhist figure, who gave all his worldly possessions to the less fortunate, including even his family and his very eyes. However, younger generations are not as familiar with his story. With all mandatory state business conducted in Mandarin Chinese, Tibetan literacy has suffered under the Communist occupation. Indeed, finding actors who can sing, act, and read Tibetan proves to be a bit of a challenge for the nameless director. However, he has a promising lead on a potential Drime Kunden: Kathub Tashi a former actor for a regional opera company now serving as a school teacher in a distant village.

The director is not the only one who wants to see Kathub Tashi. His former co-star-girlfriend joins the filmmaker and his small crew, in hopes of rekindling their affair. She certainly has the voice to reprise her role as the heroic martyr’s wife in the prospective film, but they are not sure she has the right look. Though reportedly beautiful, she refuses to remove her veil in their presence.

While Pema Tseden (a.k.a. Wanma Caidan in Chinese) has much in common stylistically with the contemporary independent Chinese filmmakers, most notably his affinity for long-held wide shots, Search is definitely a story driven film. In fact, it is all about stories.

Through the auditions the director holds at theaters, schools, and monasteries, we see an abbreviated version of Drime Kunden performed in installments. Yet, as the film unfolds, it is the long story of romantic frustration told by the local business man shepherding the director through province as they drive from one point to another that takes on surprising significance.

As the businessman, Tsondrey proves to be an excellent storyteller, keeping the film sharply focused as mile after mile of Tibet’s striking but unforgiving landscape passes across our field of vision. Indeed, the film’s perspective often suggests a camera lens, viewing events from a distance rather than up-close and personal. Yet it is its stories, particularly that of the businessman, that grounds the film in universal human concerns.

Search is a much livelier film than it might appear if one just saw a few minutes out of context. It clearly illustrates the conflicts between tradition and modernization, even in remote corners of Tibet, while also demonstrating the continuing importance of storytelling as a means of cultural and personal expression. Though documentary like in tone, it also features some excellent performances, particularly Tsondrey and the nearly silent but physically expressive Lumo Tso as the veiled actress. Highly recommended, it screens this Saturday afternoon (4/10) at the Asia Society and admission is free (but reservations are advised).