Primary navigation

Australia 1999
Reviewed by Geoffrey Macnab
Our synopses give away the plot in full, including surprise twists.
1998. Two young Tibetan boys, Palden and Nyima, arrive at a Tibetan monastery-in-exile in the foothills of the Himalayas where they are ordained into monastic life. Orgyen, a 14-year-old monk, is obsessed with the World Cup. He sneaks out of the monastery at nights to watch soccer matches. He takes Palden on one of his missions to see a World Cup semi-final in a local shop, but is caught by Geko, a strict disciplinarian. The boys face expulsion, but the abbot, although he doesn't understand their obsession with soccer, decides to be lenient. The monks are given permission to watch the final. To pay for a satellite dish, Orgyen goes on a relentless fund-raising drive and eventually gathers enough cash. He and the other monks collect a huge satellite dish from a television dealer and take it back to the monastery where they install it on the roof. After much fiddling, they get their black-and-white set to work. The monks watch, absorbed, as France beats Brazil in the final.
The Cup, the directorial debut of Bhutanese writer/director Khyentse Norbu, is set in a monastery in the foothills of the Himalayas. Its actors are real monks studying at a college of Buddhist philosophy. None had any professional experience. As the producers note, "Dialogue was prompted and memorised on the spot, and most scenes were completed within three takes or less - a testament to the actors' monastic discipline and concentration."
To outsiders who imagine Tibetan monks live an impossibly austere life, the film can't help but come as a surprise. The youngsters under the control of their strict taskmaster Geko are mischievous and playful. At times, as they tease the straggly-bearded yogi or head out on illicit trips to watch football on television, The Cup seems like a Buddhist variation on the 'schooldays' movie. Although set in the same corner of the world recreated in Powell and Pressburger's Black Narcissus (1947), it has little of that film's artifice or flamboyance. Norbu's shooting style is relatively restrained. There are no explosions of colour as in Scorsese's Kundun. Norbu (who worked on Bertolucci's Little Buddha) elicits remarkably relaxed and natural performances from his untrained cast. He knows the monastic world from the inside. A lama himself (he is recognised as the reincarnation of Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo, a religious reformer and saint who is revered for his part in protecting Buddhism in Tibet in the late nineteenth century), he shows the day-to-day workings of the monastery and demystifies it in the process.
The narrative is deceptively simple. On the face of it, this is a charming but rather whimsical tale about the monks' battle to watch the World Cup final. As they haggle with a shop owner, pawn belongings, search for cash and battle with unwieldy satellite equipment, we can't help becoming caught up in their quest. By the end, when the entire monastery sits down to watch, The Cup has begun to seem like an Ealing comedy in which a community draws together to achieve a shared objective.
However, in its own oblique way the film touches on some deeper issues than which team is going to win. We're left in little doubt about the unhappiness and resentment the monks-in-exile feel. Thanks to the Chinese, they have had to leave Tibet to pursue their education. Norbu avoids polemics. Rather than have characters make angry speeches about Red Army imperialism, he hints at their anger and unhappiness simply by having them grumble about the tastelessness of Chinese rice. The boys' homesickness is not just for their families but for their homeland too. Without a team of their own to support, the monks rally behind France (which has consistently supported Tibetan independence). They watch the football with wide-eyed awe. Two civilised nations fighting over a football in the hope of winning a cup - could there be anything more bizarre? To outsiders, the codes of monastic life may seem strange, but they're nothing compared to the absurdity of the rituals that surround the World Cup.