It’s a bit early in the festivities to be certain, but I feel fairly confident in predicting that Min Bahadur Bham’s film Shambhala will be one of my top picks from VIFF 2024. Shambhala is set in Nepal, and was filmed in the culturally-Tibetan region of Upper Dolpo—to quote Wikipedia, “one of the highest human settlements on the planet, located between 4,200 to 6,000 meters above sea level.” The scenery is spectacular, and it is to Bham’s credit that he has chosen not to photograph the landscape as one would for a travelogue, but simply as backdrop to a story that is absorbing in its own right. We’re aware at all times that the action takes place in a remote and exotic land, but the camera frames the people in medium shots and close-ups, rather than lingering on the spectacular mountains behind them, and the central drama, despite its cultural specificity, is one which quickly pulls us in. We soon forget that most of the central figures are played by professional actors, since there is a naturalness about them, and they appear to embody the characters, rather than portray them; they are not “in costume,” but are dressed and behave according to local cultural practices.

Shambhala tells the story of Pema, a young woman who, at the outset of the film and in accordance with the polyandrous traditions of that region, marries three brothers. One of her new husbands, Dawa, is still a boy, more than a bit headstrong, and Pema’s relation with him is definitely maternal rather than that of a wife. The middle brother, Karma, is a Buddhist monk, soft-spoken, who lives in the local monastery, where he studies under Rinpoche, the elderly head monk. The third brother is Tashi, and he and Pema have a loving and affectionate relationship. Circumstances begin to change when Tashi starts out on a months-long trading expedition through the high Himalayas, one that will eventually take him and a caravan of other traders to Lhasa in Tibet. When Pema discovers that she is pregnant, shortly after Tashi’s departure, gossip begins to spread among the villagers, suggesting that the father of Pema’s unborn child is Dawa’s teacher, Ram sir, rather than Tashi.

When Tashi's caravan finally returns, Pema discovers that Tashi is no longer with the other traders, having heard the rumours of Pema's unfaithfulness when the caravan passed through a nearby village. Shamed, Tashi had turned back, and has taken off for parts unknown. Pema decides that the only way for her to clear her name is to find Tashi, so she sets out with her horse. She is accompanied on her journey by a reluctant Karma, in obedience to Rinpoche’s instructions.

I was wowed more than once by Shambhala’s cinematography, which is credited to Aziz Zhambakiev. As mentioned above, Zhambakiev resists the temptation to overuse panoramic shots that might have highlighted the postcard-perfect mountain peaks and brilliant blue skies. One scene in particular stood out: a long, slow pan of about five minutes in length, starting at about the 22 minute mark.

The scene is framed as a long shot, with the tops of the mountains cropped, and only a small wedge of sky visible. As background to the scene, a number of women are slowly making their way along a hillside on the far side of a stream, which flows in foreground from left to right. They are gathering yak dung for fuel, and the camera follows them, panning very slowly, as they gradually move from right to left. Other villagers are working or sitting in small groups nearby, and we overhear their casual conversation. When snack break is called, Pema and another woman separate themselves from the others and cross the stream, moving towards the camera and the viewer, and by way of this natural movement within the frame we are subtly in a medium shot, essentially a two-shot, framing Pema and Tashi, who has been revealed by the camera’s panning motion to have been sitting cross-legged in foreground, working at carving a stone. The two of them talk more or less privately, until another figure enters from offscreen carrying a letter for Tashi, who stands to read it aloud to all of those nearby, and as he does so, our attention shifts from the couple outward, to the larger group. It’s subtly and beautifully done, and all without a single cut or change of focal length.

Shambhala is a slow-paced film, and over its 150-minute running length we watch Pema determinedly pursue her goal across a harsh and desolate landscape, encountering and dealing with a range of difficulties that include: a lost horse; angry villagers; solitude; and extreme weather. More than once, in conversation with Karma, she displays Buddhist insights that surprise him, and both characters gradually reveal depths that we had not previously been shown. Shambhala was the first Nepalese film to premiere in the Berlinale Competition section earlier this year, where international rights were picked up by a Brussels-based company.

You can view the trailer for Shambhala here. There are two in-theatre screenings of Shambhala during VIFF 2024: at 8:30 pm on Wednesday, October 2 at VancityTheatre, and at 12:30 pm on Wednesday, October 3 at Fifth Avenue. You can read additional details on the film at the VIFF website.

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