attached is a review of a film on my watchlist:
Purev-Ochir’s directorial debut, City of Wind expands on the ideas presented in “Shiluus.” At its core, the film is a coming-of-age drama focused on a Mongolian shaman, Ze (Tergel Bold-Erdene). By day, he is a high school student, soft-spoken, and frequently teased by his classmates for the fact that he works as a shaman. In his free time, he dons a ceremonial robe and mask and summons the ancestral spirit known as “Grandpa spirit” to help his community. It’s obvious that Ze has deep roots with the traditional side of his culture, even if he is also a 17-year-old who likes to spend his time on Instagram looking at his crush’s photos. He believes in what he does, it’s not a swindle or a scam for him. Things change when one of the people who comes to see the shaman is a girl his own age, brought to him by her mother to prepare before major heart surgery. Maralaa (Nomin-Erdene Ariunbyamba) is skeptical of Ze’s shaman abilities and rebuffs him after their session, viewing him as an opportunist rather than the real deal. Still, Ze is a 17-year-old, and hormones are a real thing, so inevitably when Ze visits Maralaa in the hospital after her surgery, the two flirt and soon start dating. The sweet, puppy love between Ze and Maralaa begins to dominate his life. He goes out clubbing with her, drinks alcohol, has sex, rebels in class, and the two of them even dye their hair blonde together This change in lifestyle slowly separates him from his connection to the ancestral spirits. Though his time with Maralaa is seen through rose-colored lenses, when Ze is unable to call to the spirits, he feels a distinct loss of something. City of Wind often plays with the contradictions of youth and the push-and-pull between modernity and tradition. Ze wants to live in a high-rise apartment though he fully believes in his role as a shaman, while Maralaa is a total skeptic but longs to live out in the wide open, on a farm in the countryside. The film balances the idea of the two, showing us the blossoming romance without neglecting the meditative tone of the narrative. While most of City of Wind is grounded in reality, which perhaps invites the audience to be skeptical of Ze’s abilities, Purev-Ochir isn’t afraid to dabble in a bit of magical realism in order to drive its ideas home. There isn’t anything wrong with partying and having fun and dying your hair, but Ze’s detachment from what he believes is severing his tie to the spiritual. Although his romance with Maralaa is genuine, the hollowness of what is considered a modern lifestyle is unfulfilling and quite literally spirit-killing. Ze’s shamanism is not painted as superfluous, at least not to the older generation he typically serves. While his classmates might mock the Grandpa spirit, for many, Ze’s connection to the spirit offers more support than any other person could Purev-Ochir juxtaposes shopping malls with yurts; showing us the quiet life on the grasslands where Ze and his family live and also the darkly lit clubs of the congested city where he and Maralaa go to dance. Purev-Ochir and cinematographer Vasco Viana paint a rich and diverse visual palette, sometimes with muted pastels and sometimes with vibrant neons. As much as this story is about Ze, it is also a look into Mongolia that stretches far beyond what Western society imagines when they think of the country. It presents the truth as it is, a country that still holds onto its folk religion while also changing with the technological age. At times City of Wind seems more interested in showing this contrast than developing Ze’s story, which is a rather simple one, but visually there is so much to enjoy about the film that the slow pacing and somewhat disjointed storytelling can be forgiven. As far as feature debuts go, Purev-Ochir delivers a solid offering, one that showcases her strengths and leans into the soul of her original short, elaborating on an intriguing concept to impressive results… NOW SUGGEST BOOKS
by No_Organization_6624