Kundun

The Himalayas.

A still photograph, a portrait, of a mountain; the north

face of Chomolungma - a peak also known as Mount Everest -

twenty-nine thousand feet high.

We hear a very young boy speak.

BOY (VO)

Mama, my story.

A woman speaks:

WOMAN (VO)

Again?

BOY (VO)

Tell me.

Portrait of a mountain - Khangbochen - craggy peaks covered

with snow, twenty-four thousand feet high.

WOMAN (VO)

Your father had been very ill,

We thought he would die, and some

animals had died.

BOY (VO)

Cow.

Portrait of a mountain - Shishapangma - twenty-six thousand

feet high.

WOMAN (VO)

And a yak. And chickens. And we

had four years of bad crops, all

the farmers did.

Portrait of a mountain - Anye Machin II - twenty thousand

feet high and slightly obscured by clouds.

WOMAN (VO)

In the night, I knew you were coming.

Now, the foothills. The still photograph of this barren

mountain range comes to life as we see something moving.

It is a small caravan - traveling this narrow mountain pass.

WOMAN (VO)

At dawn, you were born.

CLOSER on this caravan. We can make out eight or ten men,

walking, and on horseback, dressed in heavy, brocade coats,

and large woolen hats, black braids trailing down their

backs. A yellow palanquin is carried by four large monks,

wearing maroon robes.

The caravan reaches the top of the mountain pass and turns -

a sudden shift in direction - a switchback. The travelers

head downhill.

BOY (VO)

Tell me.

Now, we see the mens's destination. A lake. An incredibly

blue, circular lake, sunk between snow-dusted mountains. It

is LHAMO I' LATSO - "the Oracle Lake" - and it shimmers in

the sunlight.

As the lake comes into view, a young man pushes back the

curtain of the yellow palanquin and peers down at it.

The man is dressed in royal robes. He is young, twenty four

years old. His name is RETING RINPOCHE. He is the Regent

of Tibet.

The color of the lake changes - from brilliant turquoise, to

a deep, murky, unfathomable darkness.

WOMAN (VO)

You were a beautiful baby.

So calm.

BOY (VO)

No cried?

The woman laughs.

WOMAN (VO)

Maybe, just a little.

The palanquin is set down on a flat rock overlooking the

lake. The water's color changes again, to a deep purple,

then blue again, then red, then indigo.

WOMAN (VO)

And that day, your father

got better. He named you Lhamo.

"The Protector."

BOY (VO)

I know.

Silence.

The noblemen and monks surround Reting as he steps out of

the palanquin.

One man stands out here, a monk, a high lama in fact, with a

kind face and fantastic, mesmerizing eyes. He is the LAMA

OF SERA.

WOMAN (VO)

Go to sleep, Lhamo.

Reting stares at the lake.

The water turns a light grey, and an image appears - obscure

at first, then becoming more solid. A vision.

He sees a house - a small, stone, one-story, u-shaped house.

The house has a flat, tile roof and an unusual, wooden rain

gutter, with windows outlined in black and a prayer flag in

the courtyard. A spotted dog is in front of the house,

barking, though we cannot hear him. The vision becomes

completely clear, for an instant - clear enough to see the

face of a young boy at the window.

CLOSE on Reting Rinpoche. Looking. Searching.

Cut to:
a portrait of a mountain: Kyeri - a majestic,

glacier mountain - the "house mountain" of the village of

Takster, Amdo Province, North Eastern Tibet.

Sound returns as the wind whistles around this jagged,

mountain peak and then the view moves down, below the tree

line, and into the rhododendron forest and the farmlands,

until it comes to rest on a small, stone, u-shaped house. A

house caught in the dawn's mist.

CLOSE on the face of a sleeping child: a boy, LHAMO

DHONDRUP, age two and one-half years. He is dreaming. He

is about to wake up.

Today, his life will change.

We stay on the boy's face until, slowly, his eyes open -

beautiful, dark, eyes.

INT. TIBETAN PEASANT HOME, KITCHEN DAWN (1937)

The MOTHER walks past the boy, her woolen skirt swaying in

the rosy light. A seven year-old brother - LOBSANG SAMTEN -

and a teenage sister - TSERING DOLMA - share Lhamo's kitchen

mattress. Lhamo looks at them, and then he turns to see the

heavy felt boots of his FATHER, as the man walks through the

room and out the door. Lhamo finds the kind face of his

MOTHER. She is looking at him.

EXT. COURTYARD DAWN

The boy walks across the stone courtyard as we hear the

sounds of this country morning: the snorting of horses,

clucking of hens, a command from the Father as the man feeds

the animals.

The boy scratches, he pees. He sees his Mother on the roof.

She is a silhouette against the dawn, as she feeds cedar and

yak chips into the incense burner - sending white, curly

smoke up, to circle the prayer flag and its clusters of

printed mantras.

We pull back as the spotted dog begins to bark.

Lhamo's house is the house in the vision.

INT. KITCHEN MORNING

It is a good day. There is cheese for breakfast.

Lhamo's Father sits on a cushion at the head of a low table.

Fresh bread appears, yogurt, roasted barley (tsampa).

Lhamo pushes at his Father.

LHAMO:

Me.

FATHER:

No. This must stop.

LHAMO:

Me. Here.

FATHER:

I am the father. You sit there.

LHAMO:

Me here.

MOTHER:

What is the harm?

FATHER:

He will grow up all wrong.

Only you can serve him,

only you can wash his bowl.

Too tidy, everything just so.

He must know his place.

LOBSANG SAMTEN:

He thinks he is king here.

No respect.

MOTHER:

What is the harm?

The Father reluctantly gets up and gives his seat to Lhamo.

Lhamo settles and waits for his Mother to hand him his bowl

of tsampa. He bestows a most beautiful smile on his family.

EXT. COURTYARD DAY

The Father is leaving the yard with a short string of horses

when there is a sudden commotion.

The CHINESE GOVERNOR is passing through this little village.

He is a ferocious looking man, dressed in ornate brocade,

his horse eguipped with tack that looks like armor. He is

surrounded by a dozen Chinese soldiers, all on huge horses,

ruling the road, kicking up mud.

Lhamo's Father stops. He holds still. He looks to the

house.

The Mother is holding the children against her in the

doorway. Quiet. Watching.

The Governor and his entourage move on. When they are out

of sight, Lhamo's Father makes his departure.

EXT. COURTYARD DAY

Lhamo straddles the window sill, slapping his bottom as if

he were a horse, shouting:

LHAMO:

I go away.

Look, mama, I go away.

Far, far, far.

His Mother is making bread in the kitchen.

MOTHER:

Oh, no. Where will he go?

LHAMO:

Far, far away.

INT. KITCHEN DUSK

Lhamo is playing a game with pebbles on the raised, wooden

platform in the kitchen. The fire is lit. He is alone.

The dog begins to bark.

MOTHER (OC)

Good day.

MAN (OC)

Good day.

MOTHER (OC)

Please, come in, so cold.

MAN (OC)

We are traveling to Lhasa. May

we...?

MOTHER (OC)

Of course, please, this way.

Your servant may use the kitchen.

MAN (OC)

Thank you.

A middle-aged man, the SERVANT, wearing heavy, ragged

clothes and wrapped boots, enters the kitchen.

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