The Monk and the Gun review: A bracing and lively political satire from Pawo Choyning Dorji

The Monk and the Gun review: After the Oscar nominated Lunana A Yak in the Classroom, Pawo Choyning Dorji retuns with a charming Bhutan-set political satire.

The Monk and the Gun review

Cast: Deki Lhamo, Tandin Wangchuk, Kelsang Choejay

Director: Pawo Choyning Dorji

Star rating: ★★★

The Monk and the Gun is currently streaming on Mubi.

Pawo Choyning Dorji's sophomore feature, after the Oscar-nominated Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom, is a far more ambitious affair. This is a film of charming simplicity that paves the way for a vivid political satire about a land and its people. It is 2006. Bhutan is about to become the world’s youngest democracy. But what is democracy to its people? They think they don't need it in the first place. The road ahead will bring a lot of advancements- cellphones, television, a mock election and yes, a gun.

The premise

The film starts off gently, setting the scene in the gorgeous village of Ura. The inhabitants live in an interconnected, pragmatic fashion, which is orchestrated wonderfully in the opening scenes. As the news of the upcoming election creeps its way inside the walls of the huts, a slow chasm opens. First, it is Lama (Kelsang Choejey) who breaks his meditation and sends the young monk (Tandin Wangchuk) in search of guns. Why? We don't know yet.

Suffice to say, there are a lot of elements to track and fill in this quiet little film. Dorji, however, moves along these characters and their concerns with a lightness of touch, and a lot of nuance. His positioning is languid yet confident, where the smallest of details and wry humor add up to the collective reasoning along the way. Working with editor Hsiao-Yun Ku, Dorji cuts through the central thematic conceit around tradition and modernity with a breezy confidence.

What works

The Monk and the Gun works because Dorji is not concerned with setting a cautionary tale about anti-democracy, or bringing in a heavy dose of scepticism to reflect a nation standing at the brink of a transition. The tone here is wonderfully balanced and considerate, seeking everyday lessons from the varied bunch of people who have their own reasons to go about living, which might be selfish to some, duty-bound to others. That's about it, there's no moral headwringing on it.

The ensemble group of actors are all natural on screen, adding authenticity to the manner in which each of them faces an unforeseen circumstance differently. However, the film also slows down because of its relatively considerate and benevolent approach to the subject(s). Dorji's positioning of tradition and ethnic nationalism has bite, and all it needed was a little more chaotic foresight. It still remains amply charming, emerging out as a whimsical crowd pleaser that lingers like a smile long after the end credits roll.