Himalaya (Himalaya - l'enfance d'un chef, 1999)

Eric Valli

Nepal, France, Switzerland, UK

104 mins, color, Tibetan (English subtitles)

"A real chief always begins by disobeying," Tinle tells Karma before departing this world for the Buddhist paradise. And so ends the story of a gruelling annual trek in the remote regions of Nepal, where villagers brave the mountains with their yak caravans carrying salt to trade for grain. Filmed by acclaimed National Geographic photographer, Eric Valli, who has spent the last 20 years in the region, HIMALAYA is as unpretentious as it is stunning. Without real actors, the screen is graced by people who play themselves, and an epic which may have been preposterously insipid had it starred the usual Hollywood lineup, ends up a serious contender for best film of the year.

Although not a documentary, the film's depiction of Nepal's northwest region of Dolpo has a gripping sensation of realism. It is astounding that the people portrayed in HIMALAYA are actually our contemporaries. This is an existence that is so remote and foreign to our "civilized" senses that one struggles to identify with it in a way different than seeing something set in the distant past. Yet the salt caravans are a reality, and a 21 century reality at that. It is strange how such a film can make all our troubles seem petty, distant, and insignificant. Civilization, shmivilization... I am not sure that the these Tibetans do not have a more fulfilling existence without the benefit of indoor plumbing.

The spectacular vistas of the Himalayas are filmed in a sweeping IMAX-worthy manner and often subdue the action taking place on screen. Although not the intention to put the mountains at the forefrtont of the film, Eric Valli is helpless before the majesty of nature and the feeling of awe comes across fairly early in the movie. This is no detraction. The other attraction were the mighty yaks, who trek in silence, carrying with them the impression that their hooves have trodden the harsh slopes for centuries. Everything about this film is epic and impressive, including the music. The original score, written by Bruno Coulais, is worth all the awards it has won and a few it hasn't. Chants, whispers, hoarse singing, and melodic interludes form a soundscape whose every note perfectly contours the jagged moutain tops. Although the actors are not professionals (and indeed, most of them probably haul salt in real life, just like in the film), the acting is well done, especially in the case of the stoic and beautiful Pema (Lhakpa Tsamchoe), whose strength saves many.

The dramatic conflict centers on the competition for village chieftanship between the aging old chief Tinle (Thilen Lhondup) and an energetic young contender, Karma (Gurgon Kyap). When the annual caravan returns with the dead body of Tinle's son and successor, the conflict openly erupts, splitting the village in two factions. Karma insists to lead out the next caravan early to avoid the storms, but Tinle, who suspects him of foul involvement with his son's death, refuses to sanction him and resolves to lead the caravan himself. The young of the village side with Karma, who leaves with the bulk of the yaks four days before Tinle and his eight, mostly elderly companions.

The second caravan seems destined for disaster, for no one believes they will ever overtake Karma. No one, that is, except Tinle, whose fierce determination to prove Karma wrong couples with his intimate knowledge of the mountains to induce a demonic drive to conquer the ravages of age. He marches on and on, with his feeble companions barely able to follow. Yet, his determination is not enough and he has to take a different route, faster, but far more dangerous than the one usually travelled. The lake route takes its toll in the most suspenseful and tense moment of the film, when a yak plummets to its death from the narrow ledge cut in the rock. Eventually, Tinle's group catches up with Karma's caravan, much to the surprise and admiration of the latter.

Using an ancient divination method, Tinle predicts that the weather will soon change and that a winter storm is upon them. Karma again ignores his warning, relying on the stars and the sky above him, but Tinle leaves early, following the dictates of ancient wisdom. The entire caravan this time follows him. He is proven right by the coming of the storm, which nearly wipes out the entire procession. Tinle himself falls in the snow only to be rescued by Karma, who has surrendered his pride and has left to follow the rest. Tinle, however, cannot survive the ordeal and dies, but not before naming Karma as the rightful chief of the village.

Thus, in the end it is hard to tell whether Tinle was really trying to prevent Karma from attaining his position. In retrospect it seems that Karma had already offered everything, including taking care of young Passang and Pema, that could have worried Tinle. Maybe this was a test. For the old chief, it was a test of his endurance, his skills as a leader, and his ability to conquer the pass, commanding the loyalty of even nonbelievers. For the young contender, it was a test of his independence, resilience, and wisdom in recognizing when he is wrong. For a leader must combine strength of character with meekness if he is to lead his followers wisely. The proud Karma thus transforms into the chief, with the old chief symbolically departing after bestowing his last lesson upon him.

An intelligent tale of pride and endurance, set in the unforgiving environment of harsh and barren Nepal, HIMALAYA is a rare look into a vanishing world; but not a gaze inspired by curiosity and the taste for the exotic, but rather a humanistic depiction of a life close to nature and foreign to Western civilization. The naturalist approach compares well with Kurosawa Akira's DERSU UZALA, with which this film shares all best traits.

August 11, 2001.