THE MONK AND THE GUN - Mark Reviews Movies

The Monk and the Gun, Roadside Attractions

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Review by Mark Dujsik | February 8, 2024

There's a bit of narrative dishonesty happening in The Monk and the Gun, which revolves around a diverse group of people in Bhutan at a key moment in the country's history. That event follows a 2006 announcement by the country's monarch that he would abdicate his rule and begin the process of democratizing Bhutan. The people would elect their representatives in government, but here, such an idea doesn't even make sense to a significant portion of the mostly rural population. The internet only came to the country about a year prior, after all, and televisions were banned there until the very end of 20th century.

The question of the movie, then, is what a modernized Bhutan could be. There are some, such as a government official who makes up part of the sizeable cast of characters, who see it as a great benefit for the country and its people. It could bring international attention to Bhutan, give the rest of the world a sense that the country is more open to trade opportunities and the like, and disprove any notions some might have about the place being behind the times and backwards in its thinking.

Mostly, though, the people in this movie don't seem to care, because they've have only known a monarchy, only care about farming and family and cultural traditions, and only see a change like this as unnecessary. Others, such as the wife of a farmer in a small village, see elections as a potential danger. After all, her husband and her mother used to get along, but as soon as the husband decides to support one candidate and the mother determines another is the best choice, the two refuse to speak to each other.

This is just for an upcoming mock election, by the way, as a means to show people how voting works. If tensions are this high for something that ultimately doesn't officially matter, how much worse will they become when the process actually does?

Writer/director Pawo Choyning Dorji's movie presents such significant questions and quandaries over the course of its story, which feels both like a fable and a shaggy dog story about what democracy, modernization, and international influence mean to people who have never even considered such concepts. Its tone is right, finding humor in this situation without losing a sense of importance and, far trickier, without ever making it seem as if its belittling or mocking those who cannot comprehend such changes. Given the subject matter, this is a surprisingly gentle movie—relaxed, unhurried, taking its time in presenting and considering the arguments for and against such a massive shift.

Why, then, does the central story rely so heavily on the uncertainty of the question implied by the title? Dorji has a good reason for it, although the screenplay takes so long to answer the question of why a monk needs to bring a gun—preferably two—to his spiritual mentor that the whole story lingers on an uncharacteristically odd sense of suspense.

The man requesting the firearms is the Lama of the small village of Ura, who's played by Kelsan Choejay, a man holds that position in real life. He insists his pupil Tashi (Tandin Wanghuk) obtain the guns and bring to him by the full moon, which happens to be the day that the mock election will be held across the country. Change is coming, the Lama insists, and he must do something about it before it's too late. The statement is cryptic, but Dorji clearly knows we're going to read the possibility of a threat in it.

He toys with that idea quite bluntly, whether that be an American gun collector named Ron (Harry Einhorn), who has come to Bhutan in search of a lost Civil War rifle, openly wondering if the Lama has some act of violence in his mind or a particular point-of-view shot down the barrel of the rifle. Everything else here is so relatively light-hearted and innocent that, on one hand, we suspect nothing will come of this insinuation but, on the other, that Dorji wants us to consider the possibility.

The move feels cynical, as if this story of ordinary people dealing with the advent of so much social, governmental, and cultural change can't be engaging unless it possesses some attention-grabbing, suspense-building hook. There are essentially two narratives playing out here. The main one follows Tashi and Ron, along with his local guide Benji (Tandin Sonam), as they look for, attempt to obtain, and negotiate over the rifle.

The other stays with that election official (played by Pema Zangpo Sherpa), as she tries to explain the importance of the mock election to people who don't see the point and that family who is being torn apart by politics. The arguments are fascinating, and Dorji offers some biting satire along the way, such as how James Bond quickly becomes an icon and the way one of the election training sessions involves teaching people how to be vocally—and loudly—partisan.

Despite the overt nature of that first part, the second is far more compelling (Dorji has the same laid-back approach to both, which means the gun plot lacks momentum, too). The Monk and the Gun, though, doesn't trust that idea, and as encouraging and amusing as the punch line might be, the other idea doesn't quite fit with the movie's ambitions.

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