As the first filmmaker of Tibetan ethnicity to have produced feature films entirely in the Tibetan language and with Tibetan actors, Pema Tseden holds a significant position in the world of cinema. On Oct. 22, he came to NYU Shanghai to screen his new movie Tharlo, a story about Tibetan nomad’s loss of identity, both figuratively and literally. On Century Avenue sat down with the filmmaker and discussed his trajectory in filmmaking, his relation to Tibetan cinema, and why he thinks that Tharlo’s story is just as much ours as well.

OCA: You studied Tibetan literature and translation in college. What made you decide to make films? Was there an “epiphany” moment? Pema Tseden (PT): My interest in filmmaking came quite naturally. Growing up, I had always enjoyed watching movies, but at the same time I was never content with films about Tibet that were made by outsiders. One film, Nongnu, left me a particularly deep impression. [Author’s note: The film Nongnu tells the story of an orphan serf being saved by the People’s Liberation Army from his lord’s atrocity.] It was highly ideological and widely viewed in the 1960s, and most people back then formed their impressions of Tibet based on this film. If you told someone that you are Tibetan, many people would first respond: “Ah, like the serfs!” This film has had a wide influence on how people see Tibetans. The perception of Tibet being backward is very simplistic, because it unfairly misrepresents the rich Tibetan culture. As a Tibetan, I wanted to make films that would authentically reflect the lives of Tibetans. I then went to Beijing Film Academy and started doing filmmaking.OCA: What makes your angle different? PT: I try to minimize ideological or symbolic expressions in my works. I want to make films without any specific agenda. Even though my films are in Tibetan language, I do not wish to define the nature of my works as “Tibetan.” I hope to transcend this regional boundary and return to an original pursuit of cinematic works. OCA: So you do not agree with your works being categorized as “Tibetan cinema.” PT: That is up to your definition of what “Tibetan cinema” means. This category does acknowledge the emerging phenomena of Tibet-related movies being done by Tibetan filmmakers and performed by Tibetan actors. Many recent works share such characteristics, and they represent the conditions of Tibetan people’s lives more objectively. This is different from previous films about Tibet. But as said earlier, I personally value more the acts of storytelling and documenting themselves.OCA: What type of audience do you have in mind when you make films? PT: I do not anticipate a particular type of audience. I do hope that everyone, Tibetan or not, can all watch and understand my films, so when I write scripts, I take into account that audience may come from various cultural backgrounds. In my first film Silent Holy Stones(2005) and second film The Search (2009), I made various references to Drime Kunden, a classic Tibetan Opera. Any Tibetan would have some understanding of this opera, including its characters and themes. But outside of this cultural context, it may be unfamiliar or unheard of. Therefore, in the films I needed to explain this opera at various points of the story to help the audience to understand the context. Many viewers of mine had never heard of Tibetan opera before. Because of these two films, they grew interests in Drime Kunden and went to watch this play itself. OCA: Your new movie Tharlo, which was adapted from your novel of the same name, won this year’s Best Adapted Screenplay at Taiwan’s Golden Horse Film Festival. What inspired to create such a character as Tharlo? PT: Unlike my previous four films where I outlined the film projects first and then wrote the screenplays, Tharlo was adapted from a novel I had written long ago. When I first created this character, I had no motive other than trying to capture a figure that popped up in my head out of nowhere: a middle-aged nomadic man who has a ponytail. It developed into a fuller story, which then served as a foundation for the movie’s screenplay.OCA: The movie ends with Tharlo driving his motorcycle into a desolate moor, penniless, and setting off a firecracker that he holds in his hand. The screen goes black as the firecracker explodes. Why did you decide to end the movie this way? PT: The team had pondered over how to end the movie for a long time before deciding on this scene. The novel does not end this way; it ends as Tharlo walks out of the police station, after being told that he needs to take a new portrait to update his ID card. We ended the movie with the firecracker scene because firecrackers are significant objects in Tharlo’s life. He used to set off firecrackers every night to scare off wolves from his sheep, and now he uses them to punish himself, exerting a form of violence that he wouldn’t be able to channel to anyone else. He is mad at himself, because he has become, in his own opinion, a “bad guy.” OCA: In a way, Tharlo is about searching for one’s own identity. PT: Yes, and this search goes beyond ethnicity and region. Wherever we screen the film—in inland China or overseas—it evokes people’s thought about the sense of self. Some viewers have also interpreted Tharlo as a story of solitude, or of impermanence, an essential doctrine of Buddhism. I find such interpretations very unexpected and interesting. There is something unchanging about Tharlo’s story, which is why I say that Tharlo’s story is our story. OCA: Do you have any filming projects going forward? PT: Next year I will be making a film called One Day in Eternity. It is about a man living through his lifetime experience within the span of a day. This article was written by Roman Chen. Please send an email to [email protected] to get in touch. Photo Credit: rfa.org