TULPAN

Asa is beginning to find life in the yurt somewhat cramped. After completing his military service he is obliged to move back in with his sister, her husband, and their three children. But he’s long nurtured the dream of owning a herd of sheep, of finding a wife and starting a family.

Unfortunately, women of marriageable age are in very short supply in the Kazakh steppe. Accompanied by his brother-in-law and his friend Boni, Asa clutches at the last straw and requests the hand of the beautiful Tulpan. But all his tales of the great wide world suffice neither to soften her parents’ stony faces nor to melt Tulpan’s heart. With the casual remark that his ears are too big, the suitor and his adjutants are told to leave the tent. Asa is not one to give up easily and continues to fight for Tulpan.

The director tells his tale of the Kazakh steppe with an affectionate combination of humour, dry and irreverent by turns, and images of poetic beauty. Long, silent scenes luxuriate in breathtaking views of ranges of cloud that hang above the inhospitable yet so inconceivably beautiful steppe. He pulls off the difficult feat of depicting the peaceful and onerous nomad life without resorting to romanticising clichés, at the same time casually highlighting the inherent conflict between a traditional way of life and the modern world, between rural societies and the cities.