Tibet - Cry of the Snow Lion Director: Tom Peosay Year: 2003

In this documentary film on the land, people, and politics of Chinese-occupied Tibet, director Tom Peosay does an excellent job of bringing together an impressive number of fresh interviews, film archives, and history to construct a well-balanced but purposeful narrative. The film draws on a number of disparate sources to build up its story, from rightist politicians to leftist professors, a British captive of the Chinese shares the stage with a Chinese diplomat, and we are subjected to propaganda films depicting the "Peaceful Liberation of Tibet" by Mao's forces in 1949. Though clearly on the side of the Tibetan people and the Dalai Lama, the film does not fail to poke holes in the idea that the Tibetans have been a peaceful people from time immemorial, providing a historical narrative that suggests that this was at first far from the case. Nor does it pretend that pre-occupation Tibetan society was an egalitarian paradise by any means. It presents the Chinese occupation as a sort of deceptive farce, in which the People's Army rolls into Tibet and tells the Tibetans to rejoice in the freedom that they've now gained, leaving the Tibetans a bit amused as they wonder, freedom from what?

Mao's words to the young Dalai Lama in their final meeting are chillingly indicative of the bloody changes to come: "religion is poison." There are some painful documentary images and stories of atrocities commited by the Chinese army; targeted assassinations and horrible tortures of vocal monks such as Jampa Tanzin. The film shows us photographs of Jampa Tanzin rushing into and out of a burning building, rescuing prisoners trapped inside and emerging with charred skin. Another monk, Palden Gyatso, survived his captivity and torture and managed to smuggle out a number of the implements that Chinese soldiers used to torture him. To see the spirit and serenity of the monks is astounding, and to hear of their heroism and torture is extremely sad and moving. Nothing, however, is more heartbreaking than hearing an anonymous Tibetan nun speak of how her Chinese captors told her that she was sub-human and raped her with cattle prods.

It's the film's discussion of the present that provides some of the best food for thought. What's particularly striking and memorable is the treatment of the Tiananmen Square debacle in 1989, when the Chinese government turned on its own people. Tibetan interviewees describe hearing this dramatic amplification of dissenting voices within China and realizing that they weren't the only ones suffering from Beijing's policies; Chinese people themselves were hurting as well as the Tibetans. This recognition of the suffering on the two sides and the refusal to demonize the Chinese is one of the most laudable aspects of the documentary. With post-Tiananmen China moving away from orthodox Maoist policy, particularly at the turn of the millenium, the film takes a complex view of the situation. A Democrat interviewee announces that there is hope for the Tibetans and for the Chinese people now that "Communist" China has opened itself up to free-market forces and the sweeping changes of globalization. But her optimism is quickly deflated by a professor who blasts the simplistic notion that when markets are set "free," free politics, free elections and social freedom are not far behind. Indeed, after the Cold War the Chinese occupation and colonization of Tibet has only gotten worse, and many of China's trading partners, including America and Canada, are hesitant to condemn Beijing in any fruitful manner.

This is very much a standard documentary of the type that you might see on the History Channel; it doesn't have the artistic edge of Vikram Jayanti's Game Over, for instance. The aim of the film is clearly to educate the viewer in a straightforward manner rather than to tantalize, and in this capacity, it certainly does its job very well.