Mongolia

The Two Horses of Genghis Khan

mandy — Thu, 30 Sep 2010 08:00:00 +0000

When actor Urna Chahar-Tugchi was growing up, her grandmother showed her the hand-carved neck of an ancient violin—all that was left of a precious family heirloom. On it were a few words from a once-popular song called "The Two Horses of Genghis Khan." "No other song touches the soul of the Mongolian people like this one," Chahar-Tugchi says in Davaa Byambasuren’s powerful documentary, a tribute to cultural legacies called The Two Horses of Genghis Khan.

The story revolves around a promise Chahar-Tugchi made to her grandmother shortly before the elderly woman passed on—she would one day have the violin restored, making sure to inscribe every word of the song on the instrument’s body. But there’s a problem: No one seems to remember more than a refrain or two of the beloved tune.

As the story unfolds viewers learn that during the Cultural Revolution (1965-1976) China destroyed all things deemed “bourgeois” in the geographic regions it controlled. “During the Cultural Revolution a lot of things from everyday life were not permitted. Singing old songs would land you in jail,” Chahar-Tugchi reports. Instead, the regime sought to homogenize the culture, forcefully turning more than fifty ethnic groups—among them Mongolians, Tibetans, and Uyghurs—into one Chinese people.

The resentment of the groups being crushed continues, filmmaker Byambasuren implies, and has led many people to attempt to reclaim their lost histories. Chahar-Tugchi’s story fits squarely into this framework and the film traces a road trip undertaken by the now forty-two-year-old actor as she traveled—on foot, horseback, and in a van—from Inner to Outer Mongolia, searching for elders who might be able to assist her.

Byambasuren’s cinematography is spectacular and this moving—if at times preachy—eighty-eight-minute film depicts a staggeringly beautiful part of the world. One exquisite landscape after another is presented—and interviews with the people residing in these remote area are revelatory. One man, for example, offers a sobering note, advising Chahar-Tugchi—and the audience—that the natural beauty of the landscape is deceptive. In fact, he says, people and animals are being poisoned, and are dying, because of the sodium cyanide used to extract gold from the mountains.

It’s horrifying information and Chahar-Tugchi is visibly moved by what she is learning. At the same time, she refuses to be sidetracked from her search for the lyrics to her grandmother’s favorite song. Still, it gets her thinking, and as her exploration continues, the film asks a resonant—and always relevant—question: must old things be destroyed for something new to evolve?

As Chahar-Tugchi ponders this notion, she meets an elderly woman—she looks to be about 100—who was once a renowned singer. It’s a pivotal moment. “No, I don’t know the song anymore,” the woman says upon hearing Chahar-Tugchi’s request. “I’ve forgotten everything.” As she speaks, her facial expression changes from welcoming to fearful. Tensions lurk as the two continue to converse, but finally begin to melt after Chahar-Tugchi sings for the old woman. Ultimately, caution is thrown to the winds: The elder relents and sings "The Two Horses of Genghis Khan."

It’s a touching, maybe even stirring, denouement. “The two horses of Genghis Khan long for their flock/ When the snow on the mountains melts/ The brothers find their way back home again,” Chahar-Tugchi sings.

As she trills the long-forgotten tune, past and present blur. While Mao might scowl, the rest of us are reminded of the centrality of culture to political resistance.

Yes, we will sing and dance at the revolution.

Written by: Eleanor J. Bader, September 30th 2010

The Horse Boy

admin — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Directed by Michel O. Scott

Zeitgeist Films

The Horse Boy is an emotionally stirring, thought-provoking examination of autism and its effects on familial life. Based on the autobiographical book of the same name, this powerful documentary examines the life of Rowan, the autistic child of journalist and horse trainer Rupert Isaacson and his wife, psychology professor Kristin Neff. The film documents Isaacson and Neff’s struggle to understand autism and bring comfort to their son.

Rowan suffers from severe tantrums, but his anxieties seem to disappear when he approaches horses. After countless Western treatments fail to ease Rowan’s symptoms, Isaacson decides to seek Eastern therapies. Isaacson and his wife travel with Rowan into the heart of Mongolia on horseback, seeking the spiritual aid of shamans. The film is, as Isaacson himself says, “a story about how, as a family, we did something crazy…in search of a miracle.”

The Horse Boy follows the family’s journey through the steppes of Mongolia. Their hope is that shaman’s can help heal Rowan—not to ‘cure’ his autism, but to ease his painful and dysfunctional behaviors. At its most basic level, The Horse Boy is about understanding autism, but the film is really about the bond between parent and child. The success of the film (and the power of the couples love for their son) is that the spectator understands why Isaacson and Neff are willing to be whipped by a shaman during a ceremony merely for the hope of bringing comfort to their son. The love they have for their child is evident in every frame of this film.

The Horse Boy offers no solutions or answers, but it does offer hope. Rowan’s transformation during this trip is powerful and real—he returns to the States a happier, calmer child. Whatever the cause of Rowan’s healing, it is clear that he has found some element of peace during the trip. The Horse Boy suggests there is hope of understanding autism and providing healing to autistic children.

Written by: Joanna Chlebus, June 2nd 2010

Babies

admin — Mon, 17 May 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Directed by Thomas Balmès

Focus Features

I just got back from seeing the documentary Babies. I have to say that it was great! Director Thomas Balmès followed four babies from four countries for a little over a year each. The movie is mostly without dialogue, except for the little bit of the parents' talking. It is mostly shot from the baby's level, and is organized by the developmental stages of babies' lives. This choice was a great way to highlight each culture and keep the movie flowing.

I really enjoyed seeing the differences in parenting and lifestyles. I found Ponijao, the baby from Namibia, to be the most interesting. The parenting style there was extremely community oriented, though men seemed to have no place in parenting there. This collective parenting made it hard to tell who the baby's mother was through much of the movie.

Bayar, from Mongolia, lives on a family farm. It's amazing to see how closely he grows up with the animals and how he is given a lot of freedom. It's also interesting that his parents seem to take a very removed roll. Although the mother is an active parent at times, Bayar tends to be left to his own devices or with a slightly older sibling.

Japanese Mari was raised in a very Western manner, with her mother taking her to prearranged play dates and having her interact with toys produced by the baby industry. In California, Hattie grows up with a ton of toys and books. She goes to organized baby-centered activities, but otherwise is very solitary. Out of all the babies' fathers, Hattie's seems to be the most involved in his child's life.

Babies does a great job of staying silent; there is no voice-over commentary or focus on the parents apart from when they are interacting with their child. That said, I think the filmmaker intended to create a discussion about parenting, but Babies could easily act as a way to create an Other by creating a divide between Western and non-Western worlds. Although it shows how babies are similar overall, cultural and economic divisions and not providing context and commentary makes it too easy to view those from non-Western cultures as outsiders.

When watching the film it's hard to remember that these are sample sizes of one, which makes it easy to critique the parenting style of, say, the Japanese parents because there are more than a few scenes of Mari being crabby. But she could easily have colic or be teething or it could just be a result of her parents' individual style, not a reflection of Japanese society as a whole. Similarly, Babies makes it seem as though this Mongolian family is completely removed from parenting, when it could be the economic pressures they face that creates a need for both of Bayar's parents to work.

I noticed some negative reactions in the theater. The film shows breastfeeding, which elicited a small gasp from another patron, and there were also some inappropriate reactions to the children in two of the cultures who were regularly without pants. I think these reactions tell a lot about Americans biases, and how these negative views make natural choices difficult for many mothers.

Other than these few things, Babies was amazing. I'd definitely suggest it to anyone who has an interest in children or parenting. I would just make sure the person understands that these are glimpses into the lives of individuals, and while the people featured may represent a part of their culture, they are not necessarily representative of the culture as a whole.

Cross-posted at Squirrely Mama

Written by: Cheryl Friedman, May 17th 2010