Movie: "Cave of Yellow Dogs" (#267, Topic D)

Doing research at the Library of Congress, I suddenly hit upon an idea on how my project is to be focused when I am ready to write. I liked the idea, but I needed a time out to think about it. So, after lunch, I took off early to see a movie, captioned above. The movie, highly recommended by the movie critic in yesterday's Washington Post, has a week-long exclusive screening downtown, beginning yesterday. The movie's producer/cinematographer is a Mongolian woman, Byambasuren Davaa, whose earlier movie, The Story of the Weeping Camel, won international awards (I missed seeing it). For this movie, the setting is again Mongolia; it features a 5-member sheep-herding family: a mid-30ish father, an early-30ish mother, a 9-ish daughter (she, named Nansalmuu, is the star of this movie; WP's movie critic gave her age as "about 9"; I think she is closer to 8 than to 9), a 6-ish second daughter, and a 2-1/2-ish son. In a pre-title scene, which is actually the final scene of this family-centered story inconvenient to present chronologically, she and her father bury a dog. She asks a question on burial, and the father answers, "Every one dies, but no one is dead." (It is a profound statement; I did not get it at the time, so I jotted it down in the dark.) The movie opens with Nansalmuu returning from town (living in a relative's place) at the end of a school year; their embraces and greetings suggest that this is a close family. When Nansalmuu is sent by her mother to gather dung, which is used as fuel (the first of several family responsibilities to which she is assigned), she finds a dog in a cave and brings it back. The father wants the dog removed, fearing it to be feral for having lived with wolves in caves, but he does not insist, allowing Nansalmuu to keep it for the time being. When Nansalmuu shepherds their family flock to pasture (the second of her responsibilities), she brings the dog with her. Trying to find the dog when it does not respond to command, she neglects the flock, but they are able to return home unattended. With the storm coming and Nansalmuu nowhere in sight, the mother is worried. She leaves the two youngsters to play by themselves while she mounts a horse to find Sanmanmuu. At this point, the thought occurred to me that the movie is about maternal love, because there are so many mother-and-child scenes. (Their father is gone to town, at the crack of dawn, to market sheepskins and buy supplies and toys.) Somehow, a neighbor takes Nansalmuu in during storm, and her mother gathers her after it is over. The two ride on their separate horses and return home. Though the mother is clearly worried and later relieved, there is no reprimand as they ride in silence. While the cinematography is outstanding throughout, this particular scene, showing the two in silhouettes against a peaceful meadow in dusk, exiting slowing toward the right but occupying no more than 1% of the screen, is truly magnificent. It indeed shows maternal love at its very best. I was frankly touched. Later, the family dismantles the camp. On the way to their winter living quarters, Nansalmuu's assignment is to keep an eye on the young brother. She appears to be preoccupied by the dog's absence, as it is left behind and tied to a pole at the campsite. Somehow, the young brother climbs out of his basket before the caravan leaves, and wanders about at the campsite -- alone. When the father discovers the son missing, he rushes back. By then, the movie becomes one on parental love. The movie ends when the family is reunited -- alone on the open road, in the midst of moving to their winter living quarters. Shortly before that final scene, there is a jeep roaring in from the opposite direction, with the loudspeaker blasting: "Please vote. Your vote is important." In the context of this caravan, this interjecture is rather ironic. After the final scene, there are several flashbacks. In one, Nansalmuu is caressing the dog. With it soundly asleep, Nansalmuu laments: "Whenever I want to play with you, you are asleep. You must be lazybones in a previous life." (I jotted this passage down as well, even though, by that time, I understood the message being transmitted.) This is, in my view, the movie's third -- and most important --message. The religion in Mongolia is Buddhism; one of its beliefs is that one's life is continuous: one had a life before the present one begins, and one has another life waiting after the present one ends. The word one in the above sentence must be interpreted with care -- it does not necessarily mean a human being; any living being will do. Thus, Nansalmuu's final words probably mean the following: By becoming a lazy human being in the previous life, he/it is now a dog. The pre-title statement, quoted earlier, makes sense when it is interpreted this way. The message, as I see it: live a life that makes you worthy of being a human being.