Mongol (2007)

Jamukha: I want to ask you: All Mongols fear the thunder... but not you?
Temudjin: I had no place to hide from the thunder... so I wasn't afraid anymore. 
~from The Mongol (2007)

Directed by Sergei Bodrov, the Russian production of Mongol is a film which left me utterly transfixed, as history and legend mingle to create the archetypal tale of the hero who rises from adversity and obscurity to greatness. Temudgin, later known as the Great Kahn, triumphs over a childhood and youth riddled with soul-crushing abuse to conquer most of Asia. Inspiring him and guiding him is his belief in his gods and the memory of the maiden who once promised to be his bride. If his father's enemies had not been so intent upon destroying him, he would probably have grown up to be another unknown Mongol chieftain. Because he had to fight for survival and that of his family, he would not rest until he had become the ruler of his people, ready to sally forth and take over the world. As SFGate puts it:

"Mongol" has a classic tagline - "Greatness comes to those who take it" - that's right on the money for a sweeping, old-school epic. In recounting the early life of Genghis Khan, this outsized film offers everything you would want from an imposing historical drama: furious battles between mass armies, unquenchable love between husband and wife, blood brothers who become deadly enemies, and many episodes of betrayal and treachery among the warring tribes of the Central Asian steppes.

This is a large-scale production of the David Lean school, but nudged in an art-house direction by Russian filmmaker Sergei Bodrov ("Prisoner of the Mountains"). There are plenty of haunting landscapes, gorgeously photographed by Sergei Trofimov on location in China, Kazakhstan and Mongolia, along with the sort of warfare scenes that define epics, but also an unexpected take on one of history's most fearsome leaders. The man who becomes Genghis Khan isn't exactly portrayed as a humanist or an egalitarian, but as a leader who was unusually fair-minded and generous for his day.

 According to Joel Morgenstern of the Wall Street Journal:

Mr. Bodrov is the Russian filmmaker best known to American audiences for the superb 1997 drama "Prisoner of the Mountain." The adult Temudgin is played -- with remarkable intensity -- by the Japanese actor Tadanobu Asano. Honglei Sun, who's Chinese, is the hero's blood brother and mortal enemy, the mercurial, funny and frightening Jamukha. Temudgin's wife, a beautiful woman named Borte, is played by the movie's only Mongolian star, Khulan Chuluunn, and it's her first time in front of a camera. She's a great argument for native talent, and against acting classes.

I don't know the Mongolian word for panache, but "Mongol's" got plenty of it. The battle scenes are as notable for their clarity as their intensity; we can follow the strategies, get a sense of who's losing and who's winning. The physical production is sumptuous. (The film was shot by Sergey Trofimov, who is Russian, and Rogier Stoffers, who is Dutch.) And through all of Temudgin's extravagant trials and hard-won triumphs, there's a sense of a singular child serving as father to a powerful man whose power flows from his instinctive devotion to justice, and to his wife. It's an austere epic that turns the stuff of pulp adventure into a persuasive take on ancient history.

The scenery in Mongol is breathtaking; filmed on location, the movie provides a glimpse into the Mongol psyche by showing their land with all its vast magnificence. The costumes, acting, and battle scenes are authentic, making us feel that we are there, although riding around with the Mongol tribes is not the most comfortable idea. However, the film allows one to comprehend how only a larger than life character like Temudgin could tame the untameable. The early scenes in which the child Temudgin rides by his father's side, imitating him and gleaning constant instruction from him, display not only the basis for the protagonist's formation and his later ability to survive, but also provide a look at how in traditional societies the upbringing of the children is a constant hands-on occupation of the parents rather than a sideline.

The most powerful element of the film is Temudgin's relationship with Borte, the young girl who against all odds becomes his wife and the mother of a dynasty. Borte's fiery love for Temudgin knows no bounds; no sacrifice is too great if it means saving his life, as she proves more than once. Theirs is a love which endures every test and emerges stronger than ever. It is illustrated once again that behind the success of a man of destiny is a woman who has given her heart's blood. Share