THE CUP
A film review by Mark R. Leeper
Capsule: The first film from Bhutan will win
no prizes for inventive plotting. In a Tibetan
monastery in exile in India the mischievous young
monks want to break with centuries of tradition and
to see the World Cup Championship. The plot is new
packaging for old plot elements. Not all of the
messages of this film were necessarily intended.
Rating: 6 (0 to 10), +1 (-4 to +4)
Typically the first film from a filmmaker or from a country is a simple one. One starts with baby steps and learns to walk before one can run. Directed and written by Khyentse Norbu, THE CUP is a simple little story of a tiny piece of the outside world coming to a Tibetan monastery in exile in Northern India.
The film opens showing the daily life in a Tibetan monastery. It may not be intended but the primary message of these scenes is that the life of a monk is one of monotony that would drive the rest of us crazy. At least there are interesting characters to flesh out the tedium like a monastery soothsayer who gets little respect from anyone. In the daily routine there is cooking and prayer and occasional exercise. Nothing drives home the monotony better than a scene in which visitors have arrived. The abbot and some high monks talk to them. The monks are in the traditional yellow and maroon robes. The curtains are in the same yellow as the robes, the luggage is in the same maroon. One's eye searches in vain for a break in the color scheme.
The young monks like to play football with anything available. The quality of life would seem to be stultifyingly dull if it were not for the young monks' interest in football. In the case we see it is a Coke can. The monks paste on their walls pictures of their football heroes. Four of the young monks even sneak into town to watch the semi-finals on TV. This is all done under the stern but loving eye of Geko (Orgyen Tobgyal), sort of the vice-principal or house-father of the monastery. One of the new arrivals gets an idea that perhaps they can rent a TV and an antenna and see the World Cup Finals from the monastery. The question is taken to the old abbot who does not seem to quite understand the concept of a game. (He must indeed be and old man to have forgotten games. The young monks play them all the time.)
When the abbot agrees there are but ten hours until the game will be on. In that time there are several obstacles to be overcome. First of all there is the question of how to pay for the rental. The must figure how to move the dish. Once they have it they must set it up with no technical experience. There are come complications as the greed of the TV dealer almost ruins the night for the young monk who planned it. He scalps what money he can from the young monks and misdirects them. Norbu seems less than respectful toward Indians.
The plot of kids sneaking out of boarding school and getting into trouble has been a staple of films going back at least to silent film. So have head masters who seemed gruff disciplinarians but at heart love their charges and are old softies. Certainly the revelation that holy people can be interested in something as mundane as sports is not original either. In a film from any other origins with this plot would seem cliched. Norbu does not give us any new slant beyond the setting. This is a film that is moderately entertaining but not very original at all.
It is, however, the very first feature film from Bhutan. It might be fairer to say that it is a Bhutan-Australia co-production. To paraphrase Dr. Johnson, it is not Norbu has made a great film, it is just interesting that Bhutan has made a film at all. Here Norbu has given us enough of a look into the daily life of a Tibetan monk to convince us that that life is not for most of us. And he has told us a small, simple, likable story. The story is based on a real incident we are told, though the copyright notice at the end denies it. Still as a film from Bhutan, it is a good start. Welcome to the majors. I rate it a 6 on the 0 to 10 scale and a +1 on the -4 to +4 scale.
Mark R. Leeper
mleeper@lucent.com
Copyright 2000 Mark R. Leeper
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