The Legend goes: High up in the mountains of Xiongtuo, a tiny Tibetan village in China, there lives a Lama, known as The Boiling Water Lama, with tremendous wisdom, and the ability to mend the body and soul. Director Adiong Lu follows a small crowd of the hundreds that travel to the Lama each year from afar for ailments of both the physical and spiritual kind (for a price of course), and brings us along with him. During our visit, we watch as the Lama hears stories and requests from the pilgrims, and in return offers them advice covering all the bases, including reincarnation and karma. This is the premise of “The Boiling Water Lama”, Lu's 2019 documentary that is certainly worthy of closing the Taiwan UK Film Festival, even if it doesn't ultimately reach its full narrative potential.
“The Boiling Water Lama” is screening at Taiwan Film Festival UK
The moment we first hear the Lama's voice, the local community's reverence of him is obvious; they gather, or rather, squeeze, into one tiny room and lean in eagerly to catch every drop of wisdom from his tongue, and their earnestness towards him forms some of the most touching moments of the movie. There are spots where the film drags – much of the film shows locals going to ask the lama for advice or blessings, and some are definitely more interesting than others – but there are some brief moments of true heart and tenderness that really shine, such as a young boy volunteering his sleeve to wipe away his mother's tears as she breaks down over her oldest son serving time in prison. And surprisingly, some moments of tension when the Lama performs an impromptu medical procedure on a woman's back as her husband looks on with anxiousness. It's no coincidence that both examples involve the concern and comfort of family members. In fact, the Lama doesn't receive a single visit that isn't a family affair. Though the title of the films suggests a focus on the Lama, he's really only used as a window into the tight-nit nature of this community, and there's something wonderfully wholesome about that. Lu's direction reflects this, constantly preferring to rest his lens on the people rather than the Lama, a nice touch, and to hear his voice offscreen also lends credence to his mystery. When we do see him, he's often silhouetted by rays of light. We see him as the community sees him – soaked in divinity.
Unfortunately, Lu spends so much time showing the Lama inside his small wooden house giving vague spiritual advice, that there's not enough runtime left to actually explore who he is or how the Tibetan communities have formed such a legend and trust around him. This is truly a shame since the most interesting moment comes in the final 15 minutes of the movie, as the Lama ritualistically pours, drinks and spits boiling water over the bodies and into the faces of locals eager to be blessed – as well as their unsuspecting children, whose screams and protests are quite hard to listen to as they're sprayed and bathed in the burning water. It's a fascinating glimpse into this culture but feels like a glimpse that is over as soon as the movie starts to really scratch the surface. There's a far too long sequence in which the entire narrative shifts to a family of pigs playing and rolling around in the dirt, as well as a lovely lengthy shot of erotica from mama and papa pig if you know what I mean. While this change in scenery and subject must have had some symbolic intent behind it, it wastes precious screen time that could be spent really exploring the history and context surrounding the Lama himself, and the local Tibetans who have traveled so far to meet him.
For all the faults of the narrative, however, it cannot be denied that this is a gorgeously shot film (even the pig sex scene has a nicely considered frame). Some of these shots, especially in the sections of the movie set inside the Lama's house, are like something out of a Nat Geo magazine, carrying a true photographic sensibility. Every image is precise, with beautifully considered lighting, and not to mention perfectly crisp – detailed enough to spot every whisp of smoke rising from the Lama's rusted silver tea pot, or every drop of shining moisture in a tearful eye.
Ultimately, “The Boiling Water Lama” gives us a front-row view of the Tibetan phenomenon that is fascinating but falls short of true exploration due to an unfocused narrative and dispersal of runtime. That being said, I wouldn't recommend passing on the opportunity to see the gorgeous visuals on the big screen – it's worth the price of a cinema ticket just for that alone.
