In Theaters Jul 03 2008 @ 08:19 pm

REVIEW: Mongol

By Luke Harrington
Kazakhstan, 2007
Directed By: Sergei Bodrov
Written By: Arif Aliyev, Sergei Bodrov
Starring: Tadanobou Asano, Sun Hong-Lei, Khulan Chuluun
Running Time: 126 minutes
Rated R for sequences of bloody warfare
(out of 5 stars)

Ghengis Khan is a figure whose political accomplishments—uniting nearly all of the warring factions of Asia—are unlikely to ever be paralleled. With this in mind, it seems appropriate that the first serious attempt to chronicle his life on film has united so many countries. Mongol, the first film in a planned trilogy by Russian filmmaker Sergei Bodrov, is a co-production of Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Germany, and Russia, and features actors from nearly all parts of Europe and Asia (the credits list “translators” for quite a bit of screen time). That such a sweeping epic can be made by so many different people, speaking so many different languages, for so little money (less than $20 million, or roughly what Hollywood spends on catering for a 90-minute drama with four characters) is a testament to the skills of those involved. It’s worth seeing for its sweeping ambition alone.

The Mongolian steppe gets top billing here.
The Mongolian steppe gets top billing here.

As the first of the trilogy, Mongol primarily focuses on Khan’s childhood and rise to power. Played stoically (but not dispassionately) by Japanese actor Tadanobu Asano, the future Khan chooses a wife (at nine years old, of course), sees his father murdered, is sold into slavery, and finally begins to unite the Mongol hordes. Bodrov’s not necessarily telling a true story here—the Mongols didn’t write down any of their history—but he’s drawn from various sources, including an ancient Chinese epic poem and the controversial work of Russian historian Lev Gumilyov. At the heart of it all is the question of what drove Khan to accomplish what he did later in life. And Bodrov might not have the answers, but he’s more than ready to make some up.

Bodrov has woven numerous diverse themes into the picture, including the nature of religion (Khan succeeds because he stops fearing his god), the origins of civilization, and the meaning of war. The most significant theme for Bodrov, however, is family. Khulan Chuluun is captivating as Khan’s wife Borte—at once vulnerable and empowered (a feminist figure for the twelfth century)—and is the star of this film as much as (or more than) Khan himself. Khan and Borte’s complex, but devoted, relationship—which survives, even while all the forces of man and nature do what they can to tear it apart—provides most of the tension in the picture, and most of Khan’s inspiration. Chuluun steals every scene she’s in.

War. Uniting hordes, since 1206 A.D.
War. Uniting hordes, since 1206 A.D.

As this is the first in a sprawling trilogy, there’s not a lot of thrust to the plot (remember watching The Fellowship of the Ring, and then having to wait a year for part two?), but that’s not really the point of Mongol. The stars here are the camerawork and the battle sequences. As was proven in Luigi Falorni and Byambasuren Davaa’s 2003 documentary The Story of the Weeping Camel (which you should rent right now, if you haven’t seen it), Mongolia is a country that can’t possibly look bad on film. Bodrov’s camera pans, tracks, and flies over miles of astonishingly beautiful countryside. This is no travelogue, however: the sweeping visuals are here to match the sweeping epic; they mirror the depth of longing inside the characters. Many of them are digitally enhanced, but not in a way that’s garish or distracting; truth be told, this artifice adds to the mythos of the film (in a way similar to, but more effectively subtle than, Andrew Adamson’s Narnia series).

In the same way, the battle sequences are beautifully choreographed and thrilling to watch. This is a decidedly old-school war movie, where the emphasis is on action and purpose, not disorientation or gore. There are splashes of digital blood (it’s somewhat bizarrely evocative of the original Mortal Kombat), but it’s tasteful, and the action remains tight and engaging without being repulsive. The focus remains on Khan himself.

Like '300', but without all the troubling homoeroticism.
Like '300', but without all the troubling homoeroticism.

Whether this is good or not, of course, remains up to you. This is a film that’s almost entirely positive on an assuredly controversial figure. Should Khan be venerated for uniting a tumultuous continent, or condemned for the cruelties he enacted? It’ll probably offend most art-house buffs when I say this, but watching Mongol is not unlike watching Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace: in order to enjoy it the way it wants you to, you have to pretend you don’t know how it turns out. But perhaps this is the point, as the latter two installments will probably delve into these questions more. Mongol is about Khan’s journey from naïve youth to uncompromising idealist; the rest of the trilogy will undoubtedly deal with his change from idealist to pragmatist, and later, from pragmatist to megalomaniac. In this sense, Mongol certainly has the potential to be a success, but it’s a potential that’s not yet realized.

Here’s hoping that the returns on this one will be enough to finance future installments (then again, this one is almost guaranteed to be profitable, with such a paltry budget). Mongol doesn’t exactly break any new ground, but it’s hard to argue with filmmaking as effectively epic as this. It’s worth seeing for its cinematography alone; but beyond that, it’s worth supporting so that Bodrov’s epic vision can be realized. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to Mongol Trilogy marathons on rainy Saturday afternoons ten years from now. Keep your fingers crossed.

11 Responses to “Mongol”

  1. on Jul 04 2008 @ 8:19 am 1. Evan Derrick said …

    Great work here, Luke. I think the only thing I would add is that at times, the narrative slows to a crawl, only to jerk forward with disorienting speed. Bodrov spends absurd amounts of time lingering on what appear to be somewhat inconsequential details, only to suddenly teleport the film into the future, skipping what seem to be crucial moments. For example, we spend an awful lot of time dwelling on Kahn’s time in his Chinese cage (granted, this is an important plot point for future films), but then once he returns to Mongolia, poor and alone, the films skips forward and he suddenly has thousands of men and is on the verge of going to war. As awful as this might sound, in the interests of narrative coherency they needed a montage in there.

    I’ve thought about why the film could be so disorienting in terms of its narrative structure, and I think that either 1) they didn’t fully anticipate the transitions needed to carry them from one section to another (hence their reliance on voice over and titles) in the script stage, or 2) they shot waaaaaaaay too much material and had to cut it down, resulting in a film that feels a bit more artificial than it should. I would be interested in knowing how long Bodrov’s original cut of the film was.

    Regardless, I agree with you that this is one to see on the big screen. We don’t get ambitious, epic filmmaking like this very much anymore, and if people are willing to sit through some of the slower sections, they’ll be richly rewarded.

  2. on Jul 04 2008 @ 5:31 pm 2. Cinexcellence said …

    Dangit, why don’t I have theaters that show good films nearby?

  3. on Jul 05 2008 @ 4:30 am 3. G said …

    Evan, I have to say I completely agree with you; the biggest and most disorienting jump is when he goes from freed prisoner to leader of a horde, but you’re right that there are numerous other odd pacing choices.

    Your practical explanations might be right, but I convinced myself there were artistic reasons. This was a film, as Luke says, interested in some deep historical and philosophical topics, and also interested in providing some sort of explanation for Khan’s conquest. Him gathering a horde doesn’t answer or explain any of those questions; him sitting in a prison does.

    That being said, I wish Bodrov had smoothed some of that stuff out, although I may have thrown up if there was a montage.

    Still, an excellent film - and Luke, a great review.

  4. on Jul 05 2008 @ 10:27 pm 4. Rick Olson said …

    Gotta see this … sweeping plains, rumbling hordes, mongols … what more could anybody possibly want?

  5. on Jul 06 2008 @ 7:48 am 5. Luke Harrington said …

    Evan, I have to say that I agree with G on this one, as his thoughts were pretty much exactly what was going through my head while I watched it. In any case, something like this is hard to judge on its own, without seeing the other two thirds (much harder than judging the first chapter of an “unplanned” series, like First Blood or Star Wars). I definitely got the vibe that Bodrov was interested in Khan the man, rather than Khan the conqueror.

    And Rick (and Cinexcellence), yes you do need to see this film. It’s pretty fantastic.

  6. on Jul 06 2008 @ 7:49 pm 6. Daniel said …

    Just…too…many…movies. Maybe I’ll finally make the effort to see this before it’s gone. Everyone’s been high on it, but I just haven’t made the trip. And I imagine this is one that has to be seen in the theater.

  7. on Jul 06 2008 @ 7:58 pm 7. Evan Derrick said …

    To be honest, Daniel, it would be nice to see it on the big screen (the landscapes are gorgeous, and some of the battle scenes are quite epic), but if you have to pass this one up until it hits DVD, don’t worry too much. It’s more interesting than moving, and while it held my attention the entire time (despite a few sluggish sequences), I was never invested in it emotionally. I’ve read a number of reviews online and they all seem to share that sentiment (and Luke’s to a a degree): admiration, but not adoration. It’s the kind of film that would easily be nominated for Best Foreign Film but would never win it (which is exactly what happened).

  8. on Jul 07 2008 @ 8:04 am 8. G said …

    I always hate using that old line about admiring not adoring a film, because it’s such a cliche, and emotional investment is simultaneously deeply important and so impossible to quantify that it can be meaningless.

    But I do use the line anyway, and I’ll agree with Evan that far: I admired this film very much, but was never deeply moved by it.

    That said, I might have admired it a great deal less on DVD…

  9. on Jul 07 2008 @ 8:48 am 9. Luke Harrington said …

    This really is one that’s all about photography and choreography, not plot or character.

    Hmmm…sort of like if Busby Berkley had briefly gotten into violent medieval warfare…

  10. on Jul 09 2008 @ 11:53 pm 10. Nik said …

    I didn’t even know this movie existed until a friend called me up yesterday and asked if I wanted to go see it after work. Glad I did. Neither of us realized it was part of a trilogy, so we came out of the movie saying a lot of the stuff you guys are saying. I wanted to see Subetai, I wanted to see frenzied, mounted plains combat, and I definitely wanted to see 200,000 furious Mongols rolling up on the Shah who executed Khan’s emissaries.

    But finding out it’s going to be a trilogy? Great news.

    Now that I know that, I can see why the movie was paced the way it was, and I definitely appreciate the slow-but-sure method of building up Khan’s character.

    That said, it’s true there were a few transitions that seemed to skip over major developments, and the most jarring was definitely that last “unite the tribes” jump.

    Also, no one’s mentioned it yet so I think it’s worth noting: the guy who played Jamukha was excellent. He reminded me of Ken Watanabe in his good roles, with that same type of noble swagger Katanabe pulls off so well.

  11. on Jul 10 2008 @ 8:05 am 11. Evan Derrick said …

    Thanks for dropping by, Nik. Agreed, the actor playing Jamukha was terrific. He easily balanced joviality with ruthlessness, and was perhaps the most fascinating character on screen. Asano was great, no doubt, but mostly he was just stonefaced and regal. Jamukha had real depth…you could see the war raging inside of him over duty to his own pride and love for his blood brother. Very reminiscent of Paul Newman’s turn in Road to Perdition.

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