I mentioned to a friend of mine the other day that I had seen Kundun and after a
brief silence to register the odd title, her response was, "Oh no, not another damn
Tibet movie!" Well, yes, actually. Another damn Tibet movie. This being Martin Scorsese's
take on the whole mess, however, should automatically put the whole affair head-and-shoulders
above the recent Brad Pitt vehicle, Seven Years in Tibet, and any number of Richard
Gere's anti-Chinese government campaigns. And it does, to a degree. Kundun is a magical
film, bursting with unforgettable images and a color palette so heavily drenched
in golds and reds that after it's over you feel as though you've just emerged from
some riotously colored fever dream. Unfortunately, that's about all you feel. The
film traces the life of the 14th Dalai Lama, beginning in 1937 when he was officially
"discovered" as the reincarnation of the Buddha of Compassion at the age of two,
to his Chinese-imposed exile from his mountain home in 1959 by Chairman Mao. Much
happens along the way, but you may be hard-pressed to recall exactly what: For a
film focusing on such a rich emotional tapestry, Kundun is strangely lacking in its
emotional core. This may have something to do with the non-traditional cast with
whom Scorsese has chosen to work; the film includes no "name" actors, and instead
uses an all-Tibetan cast, many of whom had no previous acting experience. There are
few distinct connections between the players here, and whether or not that is an
accurate representation of how the Dalai Lama's interpersonal relationships worked
in reality is anyone's guess. The whole of the film seems dreamlike and unfettered
by so many of the simple familial emotions you'd expect in a film that traces, essentially,
a character's entire life. The film is a marvel of technique, however (what Scorsese
film isn't?). Director of photography Roger Deakins is a longtime member of the Coen
Brothers' crew (Hudsucker Proxy, Fargo, Barton Fink) and he drapes the scenes in
gobs of arresting visual splendor. It's truly the most golden-tinged film I've ever
seen (even more so than The Last Emperor) and, as such, tends to look more than a
little bit like some hallowed breakfast cereal advertisement from time to time. I
doubt that was what cast and crew had in mind, however. It's difficult to imagine
Scorsese's work seeming as emotionally stunted as this -- pretty images with no scaffolding
behind them -- but perhaps the otherworldly aspects of shooting on location caught
him off guard and blinded him with beatific beauty. Not unlike Kundun.
2.5 stars
--Marc Savlov
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