Mongolia, how I miss thee

The late 80s early 90s ushered in a small wave of Mongolian-set films, including Ulrike Ottinger's slow but lovely and sometimes intense Joan of Arc of Mongolia and Nikita Mikhalkov's Urga, released in the States as Close to Heaven. I think even Wim Wenders snuck out there at some point in time. Mongolia is always presented as the purest of modernity's others, an otherworldy pastoral idyll subject to various incursions by modernity, be it in the form of elegant Euroladies, a drunken Russian soldier (himself scarcely modern), television, computers, etc.

But The Weeping Camel, now in the video stores, is probably the best version of all. The modernity theme is secondary. What we get is really intense and compelling footage of camels and their complex family dynamics. Seriously. And slow, respectful footage of real people doing human stuff, coming of age stuff. No chase scenes, gunplay, or silicone, but worth watching nonetheless.

Nowhere do they mention the necessity of eating boiled mutton all the time, though we do get to see fermented camel's milk. I remember when Ted used to take El Paso taco mix to Ulaan Bataar so that Soros's office manager could have a fix. That dude was bored. That's the dirty little secret about Mongolia. It's a fine place to watch a movie about, but it's dead boring.