Meditations on The Monk and the Gun
A timely (and hilarious) reminder that democracy can come free
Bhutan does not often come up when considering countries known for their filmmaking. Until Pawo Choyning Dorji has something to say about that, that is. Since his directorial debut, the tiny Asian country has produced two award-winning films in the past five years. The 41-year-old directed Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom (the first Oscar-nominated film from Bhutan), and the film I’m here to discuss today, The Monk and the Gun. I love seeing small nations, especially Asian ones, show their unique perspective on the world as they modernize. Even more impressive is that they maintain strong roots in their tradition and culture. The Monk and the Gun adds to Bhutan’s filmmaking resume and even displays this effort on screen.
I remember the day I first saw the trailer for this film; I knew it was a must-watch. I’m glad I finally had the chance to watch it recently, write about what I took away from it, and share it with you all.
The story is set in 2006 when Bhutan finds itself in an odd situation. The King of Bhutan, Jigme Singye Wangchuk, abdicated in favor of his son, who oversaw the first democratic election of Bhutan in 2008. The citizens had been used to their absolute monarchic system since 1907, so this transition startled many. Their very way of being was about to change. Suddenly, these people were given a voice, a voice they didn’t want.
Tshering Yangden, a fierce advocate of the democratic system, travels to a rural village to oversee the voter registration process. What she sees is unfavorable, as the locals see no point in electing anyone when they could have the King instead. Throughout the movie, she constantly reiterates, “People all around the world have fought for the right to vote,” “People have died to achieve democracy,” etc., to make the rural population realize how much of a privilege this is. The best part is that they didn’t have to fight for it. Their King gave them the right to vote without being pressured.
Some within the rural population saw no reason to vote. If they had Their Majesty the King, what else could they need? So Tshering Yangden and others fight an uphill battle to adjust this frame of thought throughout the film. Most of what the rural population knows about democracy is actually because of India, and they did not view it favorably. One resident cited that, “India’s government throw chairs and scream at one another, why would we want to bring that here?”
Exercises and demonstrations were held to help the populace comprehend democracy, one of which was rather amusing. Two signs were held up, one red and one blue. The crowd in front of them was divided into either side. The man who organized this instructed those participating to scream loudly and hate each other because the other color doesn’t want them to prosper. Because of this game, you can understand the rural Bhutanese hesitation towards democracy as it pits friend vs friend, son vs father, etc. One of the main characters, Tshomo, even has her family fragmented because her husband supports one candidate while her mother endorses another. I interpret this as the director’s satirical attempt to display the Western political climate in America. At the same time, it shows the rural Bhutanese point of view. “Why do you bring this here?” an elderly woman powerfully asks Tshering Yangden.
Let’s finally get to discussing the titular character, the monk. The young Buddhist monk’s name is Tashi, and he is tasked with finding two guns before the full moon (4 days in the story) for his Lama (teacher). What the Lama wants to do with this gun is left unanswered, but Tashi sets off to find it.
Meanwhile, an American gun collector enters the country and is shown around by Benji, a Bhutanese tour guide. They head over to a middle-aged man’s house who is in possession of an antique gun. The gun collector, Ron Coleman, offers $75,000 for it. The middle-aged Bhutanese man, Ap Penjor, refuses, citing that it is far too much money and he cannot accept it. Benji negotiates and gets him to agree to $36,000. Ron Coleman is ecstatic. They promise Ap Penjor that they will return with the money within a few hours.
At this time, Tashi, the monk, strolls by and is given the gun by Ap Penjor, who tells him that the gun killed many Tibetans. Tashi insists on paying Ap Penjor for it, yet the middle-aged man disagrees, saying that taking money from a monk would produce bad karma. Tashi, instead, offers some nuts, which Ap Penjor accepts. This sequence was wildly hysterical, to say the least. And so, the gun is now in Tashi’s possession. You can imagine Ron Coleman and Benji’s shock when they return to find that the antique was given away for mere nuts.
On the way back to his village, Tashi is stopped by a car holding Tshering Yangden and is invited in for a ride. Tshering Yangden takes the chance to remind the young monk that the election is coming up. Tashi replies, “Is that a new disease?”
When Tashi is dropped off, he walks peacefully through the beautiful landscape before getting stopped by Ron and Benji, who catch up with him. They tell Tashi they will pay him all the money in the bag for the gun. The young monk is surprised to see so much money but reminds them he does not need it. Seeing this going nowhere, Benji tells Ron they must find him a replacement gun. Ron speeds over to Tashi with a catalog and instructs Benji to tell the young monk that he can pick anything from the list. Tashi chooses two AK-47s, much to Ron’s dismay. After all, a small handgun would be more manageable and readily available to smuggle into the country. An AK would take at least three days to come by comparison, and there was no guarantee that it would make it through customs. However, three days is too long for Tashi as it will surpass the night of the full moon. Nevertheless, Ron can’t allow this musket to get out of his hands, so he relents and organizes an expedited shipment.
Tashi returns to the Lama, who is pleased to see the musket. Odiously, he states that the gun has come just in time for the full moon, which is revealed to be the same day as the election. His cryptic words persist as he implores Tashi that they will make things right. Numerous other examples of dialogue indicate the monks are going to shoot up the election. Even Benji and Ron question the monks’ pacificism.
Finally, the day for the mock election has come. The initiative to register voters was an overwhelming success, with 95% of the rural population successfully registering. Tashi and the Lama sit on a Stupa, a structure used for meditation, looking at the scores of people placing their first votes. To sell the whole “Monks went postal” narrative, the Lama has Tshering Yangden in the gun’s sights but does not shoot.
As the mock election concludes, it is revealed that 96% of the vote was cast for the fictional yellow party. Tshering Yangden laments that this cannot be true, as it makes no sense. However, Tshomo, one of the story’s central characters, reminds her that yellow is the color that represents the King. Tshering Yangden kicks herself for not realizing something so simple but remains content after remembering so many people registered to vote.
The Lama begins a religious celebration and invites all the voters to participate. At this time, Ron and Benji arrive with the AK47s, ready to exchange. However, cops looking for the American stop them and request they come for questioning. Tashi inadvertently comes to their rescue and invites the police officers and the other two to partake in the celebration. After some song and dance, we are shown a hole that resembles a grave. Word reaches Tshering Yangden that her presence is requested at the celebration. This scene is the director’s final attempt to make you believe that the monks seek violence against Tshering Yangden.
But then, the big reveal. The Lama requested the guns to be placed at the bottom of the hole so that a new Stupa would be erected there to commemorate this historic transition from monarchy to free elections. My knowledge of Buddhism is rather elementary, so forgive me if I err in recounting this gesture’s symbolism. The Lama requests that all evil things be thrown into the hole so they may be “locked away.” Furthermore, the construction of the Stupa affirmatively nods to the people of Bhutan, saying they could overcome these evils and continue to stand tall.
The Lama says the Bhutanese are lucky to live in a time when democracy can come free without the price of bloodshed. While they have the auspiciousness of their King to thank, the core of the achievement is the people.
Ron Coleman is thanked for providing two more guns to add to the offering. His ‘powerful’ gesture inspires the police officers to throw their pistols in as well. As a reward, he is given a phallic statue to cap off his tragedy. Though ironic to him, Benji informs him that the object is of great importance to the Bhutanese people. Will that be enough to console him on losing out on an antique rifle and two new AKs? Probably not. He will probably lose his job when he gets back. Yet, his inadvertent contribution will forever be within the Stupa’s foundation, a symbol of peace’s triumph.
With the upcoming 2024 elections in America, we will see the United States divided once again. ‘Red’ and the ‘blue’ Americans claim the stakes are higher than ever, believing their way of life will change should the other side win. I’m not here to espouse an enlightened centrist viewpoint of ‘both sides bad’ but to take away a lesson from this fine film. Democracy can come free. The only thing holding us back from that is us.