ĪKundunā bites off more than it can chew
By Chris Sikich
Indiana Daily Student (Indiana University)
(U-WIRE) BLOOMINGTON, Ind. ÷ Martin Scorsese, one of the finest auteurs peddling celluloid dreams today, takes yet another sabbatical from rough-edged peeks into the shadows of manās psyche to prod into the first 24 years of a spiritual leader.
On the flip side of the Goodfellas genre is this film about the 14th incarnation of the Dalai Lama. The film, Kundun, represents an ambitious attempt by Scorsese and scriptwriter Melissa Mathison
to tell a pseudo-gospel of one of the most profound religious
figures of the 20th century. Only a satisfactory cinematic package emerges from the chaotic remains of the rainbow-colored
mandalas dotting the movieās lush landscape.
The film opens in 1937 in a remote Tibetan village where a rather poor family of four, the Gyastos, reside in a state of simple contentment. The youngest of two boys, 2-year-old Tenzin, has a rambunctious, spirited personality.
One day a small band of wayward travelers make a pit stop at the Gyasto household and have their senses piqued upon encountering Tenzin, who energetically claims ownership of a beaded necklace worn by one of the visitors.
The travelers depart and mysteriously return one evening bearing a bundle of several items, including bowls and pairs of eyeglasses. Tenzin once more gleefully proclaims some of the living
accessories as his own, revealing to the ecstatic visitors he is none
other than Kundun, or The Presence ÷ the newest incarnation of the Dalai Lama, the Buddha of Compassion. This divine revelation transports the Gyasto clan from Tibetās impoverished China border to the sacred city of Lhasa, where Tenzin is to give up his childhood to reside in Tibetan luxury as Tibetās spiritual leader.
Kundun proceeds to page through the Dalai Lamaās fledgling experiences with Buddhist thought and
politics from childhoos into young adulthood He is forced to mature swiftly, mainly because of the
increasing power of Communist China. Chairman Mao (Robert Lin) stirs up trouble by claiming Tibet
belongs to China and that China would be doing Tibet a favor by ćliberatingä its people.
As communists rage through the tranquil Tibetan countryside and slaughter Tibetās weak army and
countless other innocents, the Dalai Lama turns 18 and has his gala enthronement ceremony, officially
igniting the whole of his leadership fire. Even after several private meetings with the power-sick Mao, the
Dalai Lama could not creep close to a reasonable agreement to bring closure to the conflict, especially
with Maoās inconsiderate attitude toward Tibetās ancient customs: ćReligion is poison.ä
Kundun turns out to be an extremely frustrating cinematic encounter. Scorsese bites off more than he can
chew by sweeping through the meaty life of the 14th Dalai Lama. It is an epic chore that Scorsese nearly
chokes on because of Mathisonās script, which, at moments, feels fully realized but mostly seems to have
an empty core.
Mathison takes a hearty look of wonderment into the first couple of years proceeding Kundunās discovery.
The script then swiftly detaches the viewer from an interpersonal relationship with the Dalai Lama and
plops the viewer into what seems to be a vast crowd of onlookers gazing at a series of choppy episodes in Kundunās life.
It even fails to delve into full-reaching political issues because they are ćtoo complicated.ä Even in lieu of
the filmās shortcomings, Mathison engages the viewer once more in the filmās finale.
Scorsese might have undertaken a project too big for anyone to handle, but he finds a way to steer the
viewerās attention away from the overly simplistic story with blinding visuals and a soul-searing
soundtrack.
Although impermanence looms over every mandala and, in this case, Mathisonās screenplay, the sounds
and visuals of Kundun will never be swept out of the viewerās mind.
