The Monk and the Gun Is a Quietly Hilarious Takedown of Western Interventionism

Buddhist monk Tashi (Tandin Wangchuk) receives a request from his lama: Find a pair of guns. While the lama isn’t exactly forthcoming about why, he ominously states that “things need to be made right again” regarding the upcoming mock elections recently announced over the radio. As Tashi sets out on his quest, a man from the city, Benji (Tandin Sonam), undertakes a parallel endeavor to help an American named Ron (Harry Einhorn) to locate an antique rifle reported in the area. Elsewhere, locals brace for the imminent elections as tensions flare within households, like how Tshomo (Deki Lhamo) and Choephel (Choeying Jatsho) face issues with their marriage due to the latter’s involvement in helping a family member run for office. As these groups approach the next full moon, when the elections will take place and the lama’s plan will be carried out, their paths converge.

Although elements of The Monk and the Gun’s premise, like its focus on political machinations and firearms, may imply that it’s a heavy, brooding affair, it’s defined by an undercurrent of levity. Dorji, who also wrote the film, weaves in playful comedy, delighting in the quiet absurdity implied by its title. For instance, as Tashi waits for the words of his master, the lama sits with his back to the camera, soft light streaming in from the windows as incense burns. There is silence, a moment of meditative calm. Then the lama matter-of-factly states, “Tashi, I need guns.” There’s no overbearing delivery or direct acknowledgment of how silly it is that a Buddhist holy man wants to pack heat, but the joke lands all the same. This is a picture that has enough faith in its audience to get the bit without additional elaboration.

This low-key tenor extends to its political commentary, much of which focuses on the friction between Western influence and traditionalism. Early on, we hear a tidbit over the radio: A British journalist exclaiming how strange it is that despite their king stepping down, the Bhutanese people are generally lukewarm on democracy. It’s a confusion that succinctly underlines Western countries’ long-held foreign policy approach where other countries are forcibly “liberated” for “their own good” despite being very much not interested. We see a nuanced view of exactly why this relative disinterest in representative government exists in Bhutan and how, for many of those in rural villages, the specifics around who is running the country is a distant, somewhat irrelevant concern. In a particularly hilarious sequence, we see partisan politics being taught in real-time, fault lines developing where they weren’t before. This new dynamic is keenly felt throughout and an understandable point of contention for those wary about the country’s future.

And beyond cluing us in to these viewpoints through dialogue, The Monk and the Gun also conveys the specifics of this point in time through visual language. Dorji and cinematographer Jigme Tenzing’s camerawork captures green, sloping mountainsides and longstanding Buddhist structures with a nostalgic eye, frequently delighting in the image of a tiny figure dwarfed by the landscape, methodically moving through the scenery. These shots celebrate a particular pace of life that will likely be paved over by the smooth asphalt of modernization. 

However, The Monk and the Gun doesn’t entirely reject what the future holds. People pack around a grainy CRT in a tiny corner store, eagerly watching MTV for the first time as a particularly well-known spy flick jumps from the screen. There is a bubbling excitement over technology, and it’s clear that disdain for what’s to come isn’t unanimous. For some, this may lead to an unfortunate uptick in commercialist obsessions, as Choephel farcically nurses a feud with his neighbor who owns a larger TV than him, but there’s more at work here than a one-sided condemnation of new ways of thinking.

The narrative breezily drives at these contradictory perspectives while building towards the day of the full moon, wielding Chekov’s monk with a gun to play with expectations. Benji and Ron’s mission to find a long-lost Civil War rifle comedically escalates, and the lama’s repeated ominous comments make it feel like things could unexpectedly veer into grimmer territory. While the general air of lightness throughout means that none of this ever feels entirely grave, it builds towards a climax that perfectly embodies the film’s careful consideration of contrast and that exudes a kind, affecting pathos.

The Monk and the Gun balances all these inclinations. It’s funny and lighthearted, but delves into political forces and carries a slight undercurrent of danger. It subtly lambasts the overbearing reach of Western influence, particularly American gun culture, but also accepts the possibility for change. Most importantly, it gives director Pawo Choyning Dorji a chance to catalog the landscapes and ideas of his home as he deftly recounts where it was at a specific moment. It may be unhurried, but for a film archiving a particular way of life, that is very much by design.

Director: Pawo Choyning Dorji
Writer: Pawo Choyning Dorji
Starring: Tandin Wangchuk, Deki Lhamo, Choeying Jatsho, Tandin Sonam, Harry Einhorn, Pema Zangmo Sherpa
Release Date: February 9, 2024

Elijah Gonzalez is an assistant TV Editor for Paste Magazine. In addition to watching the latest on the small screen, he also loves videogames, film, and creating large lists of media he’ll probably never actually get to. You can follow him on Twitter @eli_gonzalez11.