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.

NYAFF ’17: Soul on a String

The talk of karma and resurrection might have been unfamiliar to an Irish Catholic like John Ford, but he could relate to the mountains and deserts of Tibet. Indeed, this Buddhist spiritual “western” often looks like it could be transplanted into Monument Valley without anyone losing a step. Of course, the subplot involving two grown sons out to avenge their father would be even more in his wheelhouse. The surprisingly compatible marriage of Western genre elements and Eastern mysticism truly distinguishes Zhang Yang’s Soul on a String (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 New York Asian Film Festival.

Taibei is a stone-killer, but you could also call him the man who killed the deer. In this case, it is quite the fateful deer, because there is a sacred holy stone lodged in its mouth. However, before Taibei can fully process this discovery, he is felled by a bolt of lightning. Coincidentally, he is not the only Taibei who will be killed today. In his thirst for vengeance, impulsive Guo Ri kills the wrong Taibei, which earns his family a whole new batch of enemies, compounding their woes exponentially.

Ironically, it is Taibei the killer whom the lama will pull back from the Bardo. He has a mission for the drifter that might just save his soul. He will deliver the sacred stone to the Holy valley known as “The Buddha’s Palm.” Taibei will accept his mission, but he is not exactly reformed yet. In fact, he might just need a bit of ruthlessness, because he will pursued by vengeance-seekers (including but not limited to Guo Ri) as well as a gang of cutthroats out to steal the priceless gemstone he carries around his neck. However, he will have some help (whether he wants it or not) from Chung, a smitten herder, and Pu, a mute little boy who appears to have some degree of second sight.

Visually, Soul might be the most arresting film since maybe Fantasia or Citizen Kane. The Tibetan vistas are genuinely breathtaking, but Zhang often uses them in ways that are pure Sergio Leone. It is like a masterclass in widescreen composition. As an added bonus, the narrative is also quite engrossing. After a strange prologue that only makes sense after the very final scenes, Zhang settles into some old school spaghetti western business. However, his narrative steadily deepens, as the characters’ karmic destinies are revealed. Frankly, it builds to some pretty amazing revelations.

As Taibei, Kimba slow-burns like a champion hardboiled noir anti-hero. He is all kinds of steely and bad, but it is Quni Ciren who truly lights up the screen as the vulnerably needy but admirably resilient Chung. Yixi Danzeng is an utter natural as the quiet but tough Pu. Siano Dudiom Zahi is also appropriately sly and morally ambiguous as Gedan, the mystery man shadowing Taibei and company. It is almost a cliché to say, but in this case, it is true Tibet and Tibetan Buddhism are also stars of Soul, up-staging many of the nonprofessional human cast-members, but not Gedan’s German Shepherd, General.

Soul is a heady film that addresses karma and justice on a cosmic level and also in nitty-gritty human terms. One mistake can lead to generations of woe for an entire family, but that is nothing compared to what it can do to the responsible party’s next reincarnation. Yet, it is also a very emotionally engaging film. Easily one of the year’s best films, Soul on a String screens this Sunday (7/9) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

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.

IBFF Showcase ’13 (SF Bay Area): Thangka

Dunzhu’s impending blindness is not an uncommon phenomenon for painters of traditional Tibetan Thangkas (works that frequently, but not exclusively, depict sacred Buddhist figures).  Like drummers who still perform despite developing deafness, they can still perceive and transmit their art.  However, the dwindling ranks of his peers alarms the old artist, who sets out to find the reincarnation of his late teacher in Mongolian-born filmmaker Hasi Chaolu’s Thangka, which screens during the 2013 International Buddhist Film Festival Showcase in the Bay Area.

Dunzhu is a traditionalist, who has no patience for his son Basen’s modern-influenced Thangkas.  As his eyesight steadily deteriorates, the old man is determined to find a protégé worthy of being his artistic heir.  Clearly, that will not be Basen, but the dutiful son nonetheless assists his father as he searches for his reincarnated master, in much the same manner as Tibetan Buddhist monks seeking reincarnated scholars.

Their quest bears fruit surprisingly quickly, but there are complications.  While Dunzhu is convinced the armless Gaga is the one, the nomadic artist’s slacker attitude is disappointing.  As the national Thangka exhibition fast approaches, Dunzhu’s presumed successor struggles with his new role, while Basen seeks treatment for Gaga’s young sister Zhuoma, who also suffers from progressive blindness.

Shot on location in Tibet, Thangka features some striking vistas and cherry picks some of the more cinematic architectural backdrops in Lhasa (in marked contrast to Pema Tseden’s Old Dog).  Not surprisingly though, Hasi is rather vague about why Tibetan cultural practices like Thangka painting are disappearing, casting it largely in terms of modernity conflicting with tradition.  The presence of an occupying power is completely ignored.  Still, it all looks great through cinematographer Wang Gu’s lens.

While many supporting characters are messily shoehorned into Thangka, the unexpected connections between the two families work quite well in dramatic context, rather than feeling forced.  As Dunzhu, Luo Sang’s Zen-like gravitas perfectly anchors the film.  Pubu Ciren’s Basen is also sufficiently earnest and long-suffering in a sympathetic way.  Recording artist Suolang Wangmu (born into similar circumstances as her character) adds a bit of celebrity, as well as credibility for Tibetan audiences as Gaga’s grown sister, Baima.

Addressing themes of art, family, compassion, and of course Buddhism, Thangka champions what might be called traditional Tibetan values, which is refreshing in any film.  It is also surprisingly uplifting.  Yet, the problem of Tibet’s atrophying culture it insufficiently diagnoses remains a very real concern.  Regardless, Thangka will hook in most viewers with its sincerity, particularly those with an interest in Tibetan art and Buddhism, when it screens tomorrow night (3/3) at the Smith Rafael Center, as a selection of the IBFF Bay Area Showcase.

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.