“One cannot see one’s own eyelashes because it’s too close to yourself”, this was a Bhutanese saying quoted by Pawo Choyning Dorji, in an interview on his directorial debut film, Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom (2019), in reference to the curiosity of Bhutanese people for a life beyond Bhutan. They could not appreciate their culture in the same manner as outsiders view the Himalayan kingdom, and he states that it is ironic that as a poor, underdeveloped country it is viewed as the “happiest nation” when the locals seek happiness in the world outside. It is an interesting decision that the central motif in Dorji’s second film, The Monk and The Gun (2023), is that of a return to traditionalism and a rejection of Western ideals by villagers in Bhutan and presents an antithesis to the capitalistic society that is probably sought out by the urban population. 

The opening shot of the film sets the tone for its visual imagery, beautiful open wheat fields, promoting the idea of a heaven on Earth. A melodic flute tune coupled with the scenic clear blue sky evokes a sense of peace in the viewer- why would anyone choose a different way of life? The film is centred around the idea that the Buddhist way of living is ingrained in the Bhutanese, even when modernisation has allowed them to purchase satellite televisions, they bless the television sets with water before using them, they believe in karmic debts and “merits” from doing good deeds. Against this backdrop, in a country that uses Happiness as a tool to measure the efficacy of national policies, the bell of democratic elections tolls. Tshomo (Dekhi Lhamo), is to assist Tshering Yangden (Pema Zangmo Sherpa), the Head of Elections, in carrying out mock elections in the village of Ura in the “world’s youngest democracy”. “Why do people need to be taught how to vote?” asks Ron Colman (Harry Einhorn), the caricature of an ignorant gun loving American who is baffled by the simplicity of the Bhutanese, mistaking their innocence for ignorance. In a country where the teachings of the Buddha are the law, their only understanding of the need for elections is that “to be democratic is to be modern”. “We are indeed a modern country now!” exclaims Tshomo's husband as he finds the Bhutanese government TV channel on his newly installed set. Apart from their love for the newly introduced Bond movies, the locals cannot understand why the government would want to introduce discord in their tightly knit community. 

“Tashi, I need guns”, are the first words we hear from the Lama upon hearing of the local mock elections on his radio. Why would a monk break himself out of his meditation retreat and ask for a gun? The villagers may dismiss this as yet another strange occurrence in these strange new times, but the filmmaker keeps the audience on a hook with this question. We assume that since he is conservative, his indication to “make things right again” by the Full Moon is a sign of an onslaught of violence. Could the devotion to the King of Bhutan (they have pictures of him in every house in Bhutan), to the point where voting against the candidate representing traditional values equals to being a traitor, be so blind? As we see Tashi carry the gun across his shoulders Baahubali style, with the confidence of a civil war general, and then treat the gun like a child treats their favorite Barbie, we wonder if he is aware of what we think the monk’s intentions are. However, there is gentle humor in every element of the film, even the haggling between the Bhutanese farmer and the American is adorable as the American struggles to understand the lack of importance given to money. Desire causes sadness and this film, just like the Bhutanese way of life, is a counter balance to sadness. The filmmaker breaks the tension of the audience’s understanding of the monk’s intentions in an absurdist manner that is true to the celebration of Bhutanese innocence that the film is. It is the most delightful red herring, and one could feel the childlike joy surge through the theatre. This film evoked constant laughs from the audience, for a moment it felt like the filmmaker had given us a taste of living in the happiest country in the world. 

Satirical comedy when pulled off well does more in terms of evoking a reaction from the audience than serious films that are more in-your-face with their political messaging and in my opinion, The Old Monk and the Gun succeeds at spreading an anti-gun sentiment than a lot of coalitions for gun control. Through its mimicry of the American fondness for guns (“there are more guns than people in America'') and a depiction of the unity between the police forces and Bhutanese people that would make the writers of Monty Python proud, this film acts as a push back to the Western perception of mountain people and turns into a celebration of so-called Bhutanese innocence. Despite having a smoking gun (pun intended), the film starts where it begins, with Tashi carrying a gas cylinder through a field of flowers, now pink to depict the unwavering simplicity of the Bhutanese in the face of change.

The self-awareness of the film because of and in spite of its humour, akin to Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite, is evident not just through exaggerated symbolism but through the villagers’ changing relationship with their religion- Tshomo explains the concept of “merits” to the American and self reflects on the reality that no one actually sticks to Buddha’s philosophy anymore. 

“Phalluses bring us closer to enlightenment” Tshomo tells the bewildered American as he is gifted a giant red model of a phallus by the Lama. Cheers burst through the theatre. We really are all simple beings at heart.