Dreaming of a Better Film

The new feature film Dreaming Lhasa is the first film to deal with the situation in modern Tibet, yet it hasn't been made by or with professionals accustomed to the feature genre. Instead, it's the debut of two documentarians and a cast of mostly amateur actors.

Several years ago, directors Ritu Sarin and Tenzing Sonam were commissioned to make a documentary about Tibetan freedom fighters trained by CIA operatives. In the course of their investigation, they were captivated by the case of one freedom fighter who disappeared and was never found. Inspired, they crafted this feature film around the mysterious revolutionary-they even invented an American-Tibetan filmmaker and a native Tibetan to go on a search for him. The two characters wander through north Indian cities, the Himalayas, hermitages-as a mystery, the plot is enthralling. But as a seemingly true-to-life mystery, the plot seems contrived and meaningless.

The subplots don't redeem the uninspired main story either. For example, the directors inject a lackluster romance to occupy the traveling sequences. Another part of the film involves a hunger strike for the release of a lama-this is dealt with hastily and subordinated to both the unsatisfying mystery and the purposeless love story.

However, the scenes depicting the Tibetan youth culture in Dharamsala, India are intriguing, as we watch second-generation refugees trying to reconcile modernity, Buddhism, the Tibetan cause, and their ambitions. Again, they are relegated to the background; they deserve a film, preferably a documentary, of their own.

The camera does not set foot in Tibet, and doesn't need to. Dharamsala-the primary destination for Tibetan refugees-conveys the flavors of Tibetan culture well enough. Though characters also travel to Delhi and Jaipur, the Indian landmarks in these cities receive no screen-time. India exists in this film only as Tibetans' substitute for their homeland. Several shots indulge in exotic architecture, exotically gritty rooms, and exotic mountainous landscapes. As a tour of the areas involved in the plot, the film is quite worthwhile.

The lead actress, Tenzin Chokyi Gyatso, is a bank consultant in real life. Her character is not written as a stereotypical American, but her lifeless, labored acting falls flat just the same. The tension in her facial expressions and body language draws attention to the deliberation of every line and movement. In contrast, the character of her assistant, Jigme (Tenzin Jigme), is quite vibrant, and the object of her affection, Dhondup (Jampa Kalsang), is a natural. Jigme, who appears only from time to time, contributes some welcome humor and energy. Unsurprisingly, he is a Dharamsala musician in real life, and he plays a Dharamsala musician in the film.

Ultimately, Dreaming Lhasa does not synthesize history, politics, and culture into a moving story. Its inventions-the mystery and the romance-must be endured so that the interesting, authentic parts can be salvaged. But if the documentary elements of the film prove to be its primary strengths, what does it matter that this is the first dramatic movie on modern Tibet?