I've been there. In fact the initial fun of watching this film with my family was recognizing the location because of the background mountains. I go to Mongolia nearly every summer to do historical research and also for the fun of it. . .it is indeed one of the most beautiful places in the world, and inhabited by the most wondrous of people.
Part documentary, part drama, I found this film to be a real reflection of so many families that I've met over there, have camped with, have ridden with. The close bond of children, parents, and grandparents is a lesson I wish our culture would relearn. . .and yes I cringed at the very end when the two boys are setting up the television dish. I had an identical experience in the far north of the country, in Hosvgol Province, featured a couple of years back in National Geographic. My buddy and I rode up to a ger (yurt...tent) and within the entire family was glued to the flickering "glass image," the traditional hospitality and greetings all but gone. We were offered the traditional milk tea, milk curds and some aureg (fermented milk) but then everyone turned back to the screen. Story telling, sharing photographs of families, talking about children, legends, horse races, life in America, life there. . .was gone, as all turned back to watch the flickering screen, ourselves included. How I wanted to scream out, and yet who am I, with my own wide screen box, to beg them not to fall into the trap.
But back to the film review. It is beautifully photographed, I actually sat there teary eyed at points, remembering my own travels. The storm scenes. . .if only you could feel and smell it. It is like you are being nailed by a sand blaster, the smell has a static electric feel to it, and frankly, after a day or so makes you feel a bit crazy, I did not blame that little girl at all for crying. . .and it also ruins your camera equipment unless you seal everything in zip lock bags. (I've lost two cameras and two camcorders there due to weather.) One detail I noticed was the cameraman filming with his back to the wind. If he had turned the camera into the wind, it would have blasted the lens within seconds. Just to capture it at all on film was quite a feat. Two of my trips over there, we had a documentary team with us, and both times their equipment failed within days. So the team that made this film. . .just from the technical logistical side, an amazing feat.
The music, well in the film it is captivating, haunting, and believe me, to hear the songs again. . .yet another teary eyed moment for me, remembering sitting under a star studded sky and hearing the same songs while the bowl of fermented milk goes back and forth, and then we guests sing our songs in reply (fortunately my one friend does doo-op and our Mongolian friends just adored "The Lion Sleeps Tonight," I did that darn wena-wop line as his back up every night til it drove me crazy! And wherever we traveled, word of us raced ahead and wherever we stopped our new found nomad friends would ask "sing Lion song!" Drove me crazy!) Yet again, back to the film. I just wish there was more of their traditional music, it is wondrous, haunting. Do notice in particular the scene where the musican first hangs his two string fiddle on the camel's hump and then let's the wind "play it." Nearly all traditional mongolian music is a reflection of natural sounds, right down to differences of the wind on the desert versus grasslands or the forest, and in the northern regions the "beat" is almost always that of horse hooves. There is another documentary out there on throat singers, I can't remember the title, but do try and see it.
But back to the film again. Wonderful, delightful, share it with your kids, and afterwards do think about it. I am by no means a technophobe or "back to the land" type, but within this film is a statement about how to live our lives. . .and for that lesson alone I go back there every year.
William Forstchen History Professor Montreat College
Part documentary, part drama, I found this film to be a real reflection of so many families that I've met over there, have camped with, have ridden with. The close bond of children, parents, and grandparents is a lesson I wish our culture would relearn. . .and yes I cringed at the very end when the two boys are setting up the television dish. I had an identical experience in the far north of the country, in Hosvgol Province, featured a couple of years back in National Geographic. My buddy and I rode up to a ger (yurt...tent) and within the entire family was glued to the flickering "glass image," the traditional hospitality and greetings all but gone. We were offered the traditional milk tea, milk curds and some aureg (fermented milk) but then everyone turned back to the screen. Story telling, sharing photographs of families, talking about children, legends, horse races, life in America, life there. . .was gone, as all turned back to watch the flickering screen, ourselves included. How I wanted to scream out, and yet who am I, with my own wide screen box, to beg them not to fall into the trap.
But back to the film review. It is beautifully photographed, I actually sat there teary eyed at points, remembering my own travels. The storm scenes. . .if only you could feel and smell it. It is like you are being nailed by a sand blaster, the smell has a static electric feel to it, and frankly, after a day or so makes you feel a bit crazy, I did not blame that little girl at all for crying. . .and it also ruins your camera equipment unless you seal everything in zip lock bags. (I've lost two cameras and two camcorders there due to weather.) One detail I noticed was the cameraman filming with his back to the wind. If he had turned the camera into the wind, it would have blasted the lens within seconds. Just to capture it at all on film was quite a feat. Two of my trips over there, we had a documentary team with us, and both times their equipment failed within days. So the team that made this film. . .just from the technical logistical side, an amazing feat.
The music, well in the film it is captivating, haunting, and believe me, to hear the songs again. . .yet another teary eyed moment for me, remembering sitting under a star studded sky and hearing the same songs while the bowl of fermented milk goes back and forth, and then we guests sing our songs in reply (fortunately my one friend does doo-op and our Mongolian friends just adored "The Lion Sleeps Tonight," I did that darn wena-wop line as his back up every night til it drove me crazy! And wherever we traveled, word of us raced ahead and wherever we stopped our new found nomad friends would ask "sing Lion song!" Drove me crazy!) Yet again, back to the film. I just wish there was more of their traditional music, it is wondrous, haunting. Do notice in particular the scene where the musican first hangs his two string fiddle on the camel's hump and then let's the wind "play it." Nearly all traditional mongolian music is a reflection of natural sounds, right down to differences of the wind on the desert versus grasslands or the forest, and in the northern regions the "beat" is almost always that of horse hooves. There is another documentary out there on throat singers, I can't remember the title, but do try and see it.
But back to the film again. Wonderful, delightful, share it with your kids, and afterwards do think about it. I am by no means a technophobe or "back to the land" type, but within this film is a statement about how to live our lives. . .and for that lesson alone I go back there every year.
William Forstchen History Professor Montreat College