MONGOL
Directed by Sergei Bodrov; written by Arif Aliyev and Sergei Bodrov; directors of photography, Sergey Trofimov and Rogier Stoffers; edited by Zach Staenberg and Valdis Oskarsdottir; music by Tuomas Kantelinen; stunt choreography by Zhaidarbek Kunguzhinov and Jung Doo Hong
With: Tadanobu Asano, Honglei Sun, Khulan Chuluun, Odnyam Odsuren, Aliya, Ba Sen, Amadu Mamadakov, and Ba Yin (Merchant With Golden Ring). Rated R. Running time: 2 hours 1 minute

Reviewed by Joel Johnson

Russian director Sergei Bodrov’s film about the rise of Genghis Khan resulted in a rare Foreign-language Oscar nomination for Kazakhstan. That it finished as one of four runners-up (with Russia’s 12, Israel’s Beaufort, and Poland’s Katyn) to Austria’s The Counterfeiter is certainly no shame. In a stroke of serendipity, it became the leadoff film for an Asian trio of movies (along with The Children of Huang Shi and Kung Fu Panda) that we watched over a four-day period.

When watching Mongol, what strikes the viewer initially is the cinematography by Rogier Stoffers and Sergey Trofimov that is so beautiful in taking full advantage of the vast vistas offered by the Mongolian landscape but is also mercilessly vivid in capturing the violence that was so pervasive in Genghis Khan’s life. This cinematography definitely makes theatrical viewing the preferred mode for seeing this movie. This film is the first installment in what is planned as a three-film biography of Genghis Khan’s entire life. Therefore, it follows Temudgin (the Khan’s original name) from his childhood, when he was almost ten years old in 1172 and choosing a bride, up to the time of his ascendancy as the most powerful Khan in Mongolia at the dawn of the thirteenth century. This is well before he has carved out of Asia and Eastern Europe the largest expanse of land ever under one rule.

Bodrov and his coscreenwriter Arif Aliyev have based their screenplay on Lev Gumilev’s history The Legend of the Black Arrow as well as the ancient text The Secret History of the Mongols that dates from the fourteenth century and was suspected to be lost forever until it resurfaced in China during the nineteenth century. The result is a film that bestows humanity on the legendary leader who is best known in Russia and Europe as the leader of the terrorizing barbarian Mongol hordes. All dramatic films depicting historical events present definitive interpretations of those events from the detritus of historical evidence about which historians could only conjecture possible explanations, but history that has been sparsely documented invites an even higher level of speculation. The choice of a bride made by the young Temudgin does change his life. Choosing the young girl Borte from a minor clan prevents his Khan father from making peace with the powerful Merkits from whom he had stolen Temudgin’s mother. When his father is subsequently poisoned, it leads to a quick hard fall for Temudgin from noble privilege into slavery and imprisonment. He is protected from quickly rejoining his father in death only by the dictum that “Mongols do not kill children.” The fleeting meeting of the two children that had resulted in the betrothal forged a surprisingly strong bond as both undertake demanding quests to rescue the other.

The other powerful relationship is between Temudgin and Jamukha. They meet as boys, becoming friends, ritualized blood brothers, and eventually rivals as their relationship evolves into adulthood. Bodrov’s film is always engaging. Its vivid violence will put off some filmgoers, but what I found disappointing was how it glossed over what would seem to be the transition from a battle-tested respected clan leader to commanding a massive Mongol army. One can only hope that this gets a more thorough telling in Bodrov’s subsequent films.