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Kundun
More than anything else, Martin Scorsese’s Kundun is a celebration of culture, heritage, and the human spirit. Perhaps it is easy to criticize its failure to connect with its protagonist—the 14th Dalai Lama—but the arm’s length that is maintained from him eventually comes across as a gesture of awe and respect rather than bad filmmaking. This film is about such respect and dignity, as it displays the life of the Dalai Lama from childhood to adulthood, and his struggles along the way to stop Mao’s China from marching into peaceful Tibet and overthrowing its government. Scorsese’s approach here is a sharp contrast to this work in The Last Temptation of Christ, but because they both deal with religious subject matter, comparisons can be made. Last Temptation peered into the mind of a being both fully divine and fully man and his attempt to maintain equilibrium between the two roles in order to complete his mission as the Messiah. In Kundun, the Dalai Lama experiences a similar challenge: As a boy, he is told that he is the 14th incarnation of Lord Buddha, reincarnated once again to be the leader to Tibet. Curiously, Scorsese does not dwell much on the boy’s own surprise or struggles with realizing his identity; unlike the Christ of Last Temptation, the Dalai Lama needs no identity confirmations from God. Kundun and his family simply accept the monks and officials’ insistence that he is indeed who they think he is, and the film continues on without dwelling much on his own internal conflicts. As an adult, there is only one line that suggests that the Dalai Lama has a few doubts regarding his identity, but it is in passing and quickly overcome. After all, with the Chinese marching into Tibet and demanding a takeover, the Dalai Lama doesn’t have time to question, only to act. I think Scorsese chose a more objective approach with Kundun because of the different natures of Christ and Buddha, and because of his own nature. The point of Christ’s entire mission was his perfect divinity; as the Divine-made-flesh, his mission is to die on the cross as the “unblemished Lamb of God” for the sins of mankind, and his struggle to overcome temptation and remain sinless was crucial to his earthly visit. In addition, he had to convince others of his identity along the way, so that the world would recognize the importance of his sacrifice. The Dalai Lama, on the other hand, must govern a nation that fully believes in his divinity, and he faces less introspection because he is allowed to make mistakes as he learns how to lead along the way. More
to the point, as a Christian, Scorsese was interested in Last
Temptation in exploring the nature of the deity that he believes
in. The questions that he asked and the speculations that he made
were a sign of respect, so that he could better understand his
faith. When dealing with Kundun, Scorsese is operating
with a clean slate—his objectivity is one of respect as
an outsider looking in. Therefore, instead of focusing on the
nature of the Dalai Lama, a job that could only fairly be done
by a practicing Buddhist, Scorsese’s approach is to present
him as the rest of the unbelieving world sees him. In doing so,
Scorsese strives to celebrate the Dalai Lama’s life, times,
and people. I think what I like best about Kundun is Scorsese’s quiet, awed approach to the Dalai Lama. In the hands of a lesser director, this film certainly could have been a typical, wildly stylized epic with a score that swept at the right time, slow motion shots of war, and big stars in all of the main roles. Yet Scorsese avoids the temptation of making a larger-than-life film—his “epic” would eventually be the superb Gangs of New York in 2002—and keeps things very small and internal, setting up most of the key moments as quiet, introspective reflections in the main characters. In fact, a cast of all amateurs was eventually decided upon, and other than being a group of very talented actors, the casting works well to give a Western audience a completely foreign environment. Instead of spotting the familiar faces, we are instead taken aback by what it happening to the people on screen. As a deeply introspective, thoughtful film by an outsider looking into a foreign culture, Kundun never strikes a wrong note, though there were several details that I felt stood out above the others: The score, by Philip Glass, is haunting and appropriate, fusing Buddhist chants and traditions with Western orchestration. The ongoing images of Tibetian sand art as a metaphor for the lost, Tibetan culture is also striking and poignant. The art is created by mixing sand of various colors on a canvas, and at first we see faceless hands pouring the sand and creating beautiful designs. As Mao slowly takes over Tibet through political pressure and military force, the same hands destroy the painstaking art. The scenes featuring the eccentric soothsayer and the quiet moments between Dalai Lama and his advisors as he frets over what to do about Mao are also well acted and very respectful; as a result, Kundun ultimately plays like a love letter to a culture that Scorsese longs to understand better, and one that he respects immensely. The audience is consequently given a similar longing through Scorsese’s beautiful portrait. When
Scorsese first announced that he was going to make a film about
the Dalai Lama, it was met with a surge of controversy from Buddhist
and Asian communities, who questioned an American’s right
to make a film about someone else’s culture and religion.
I am reminded of Spike Lee’s insistence that only a black
man could have made the bio of Malcolm X, a claim that
he probably proved in the effectiveness of his said film. Controversy
notwithstanding (he was probably used to it after The Last
Temptation of Christ), Scorsese believed in the project and
made the film, and thus became banned from ever entering Tibet.
Yet I cannot deny the effectiveness of Kundun, and its
perspective remains a respectful one. Artists are historians after
all, and as historians, they should transcend their own culture
in an effort to paint a broad horizon of life and world views.
Kundun is Scorsese’s own personal exploration into
another culture as both an artist and a historian, and if he has
angered one culture with this picture, he has certainly enlightened
his own. Cast: Questions? Comments? E-mail me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com |
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