Believe it or not, the kingdom of Bhutan did not have access to television until 1999. This was part of an effort by Jigme Singye Wangchuck—then King and head of state by virtue of his royal birth—to modernize what was once considered one of the least developed nations on Earth. Eventually, Bhutan would see its monarchy abdicated in favor of a democratic constitutional monarchy which decentralized the power structure within the kingdom, though this would happen well after the invention of television. The King became more like a head of state, and instead of laws being pushed through by fiat, they would now be made under the guidelines of the Constitution of 2008. It’s important to note this history—especially the bit about the television—because Pawo Choyning Dorji’s film The Monk and the Gun assumes we already know it.
This isn’t a criticism, though. Even everyday citizens of other countries, kingdoms and protectorates could do with a little education about the histories of other nations. It’s simply an observation, in part, meant to highlight the significant achievement made by Dorji in his sophomore effort. Somehow, the filmmaker has taken all this semi-recent history, which may be unfamiliar to the casual viewer, and absorbed it into the marrow of a charming, thoughtful and winsomely funny fable about a valuable rifle and the three men who are vying for its possession.
The story is set in 2006 (despite one notable anachronism involving a major motion picture that plays a surprising role in the proceedings) against the backdrop of the looming democracy being formed right under the noses of a confused populace. The eldest citizens don’t understand a need for change, and it’s the job of the government to teach the people how to vote—a minor subplot has Pema Zangmo Sherpa and Tandin Phubz playing election officials searching for a venue to hold these consequential mock elections.
The main narrative, though, follows two converging stories, both of which are bolstered by a wry wit and a trio of clever performances. Benji (Tandin Sonam) is a local guide for antiques collector Ron (Harry Einhorn), who is looking for an American Civil War relic that has somehow ended up in the hands of a monk. The two men want to buy it, but at the same time, in a different part of Bhutan, a Lama of the village of Ura has seen the dark potential of the rifle and instructed his pupil Tashi (Tandin Wangchuck) to fetch it for him.
The loaded politics of the region fall to the wayside in The Monk and the Gun, except when the secondary plot involving the election officials becomes a comedy of errors about the inherent ignorance of the democratic system. That’s mostly a lark, though, and so, for that matter, is the business with the gun, whose ownership changes hands through acts of negotiation (and at least one trade that certainly does not abide by international law) so many times that the ultimate punch line is more like a sigh of futility. That’s a pretty funny idea on which to end such a spry and accessible comedy that gets some good laughs, and more than a few good ideas, out of its set-up. But even though the film is definitely funny, A Monk and a Gun’s background details also do a lot of work to undeniably morph the movie into a genuinely sincere object.
Photo courtesy of Roadside Attractions
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