MOVIE REVIEW : Nikita Mikhalkov’s ‘Eden’ a Poignant, Beguiling Prize

Nikita Mikhalkov’s poignant, elegiac “Close to Eden” (at the Royal) is felicitously titled, for it opens with a seemingly endless vista of a grassy plain in China’s Inner Mongolia. In the midst of this vast expanse, there’s a small encampment, a tent dwelling encircled with several pieces of farm equipment. It is the home of a young peasant couple, the rugged Gombo (Bayaertu, who brings to mind the virile young Toshiro Mifune), who raises sheep, cattle and horses, and his beautiful wife, Pagma (Badema), their two adorable children and a baby, and Gombo’s elderly mother. Everyone is radiantly happy and healthy in this earthly paradise where the grassy landscape infuses the entire family with an exhilarating freedom of spirit.

The film--the Republic of Russia’s official Oscar entry--which is arguably Mikhalkov’s finest and subtlest, is so good-natured that you may wonder for a while whether it has much point beyond poking some gentle fun at Gombo’s shyness over purchasing condoms when he goes to town. It soon becomes clear, too, that the exuberant, burly Russian road worker Sergei (Vladimir Gostukhin), with whom Gombo strikes up a friendship, will be a source of earthy, amusing camaraderie, not dramatic clash.

What Mikhalkov, working with writer Roustam Ibraguimbekov, is doing so effectively is catching us up on the daily existence of such thoroughly likable people that not until the film’s stunning coda do we realize that he has all along been bidding fond farewell to a way of life that’s soon to vanish.

At first “Close to Eden,” as a contemporary film, seems a departure for Mikhalkov, celebrated for his period films, especially his Chekhov adaptations, but eventually we discover that he’s saluting a present that in fact has already passed.

Gombo’s life is one that’s lived in harmony with nature. Although Gombo’s existence seems timeless and little changed during the centuries, he and his family are not cut off from the modern world. His son sports a baseball cap, he has a generator for electric light, and Pagma, city-bred, asks him to buy a TV set.

As it turns out, Gombo’s attitude toward condoms is not all shyness: He hopes for another son. In retrospect, moreover, we come to sense that Gombo’s resistance to the Chinese ordinance restricting couples to two children--a rule he and Pagma have already broken, making them liable to penalties--reveals an instinctive concern with the survival of the Mongolian people.

On the other hand, Sergei is not all buffoon, lamenting that he must work abroad if his family is to live decently and wondering why he isn’t building roads back in Russia, which in his view needs them more than Mongolia.

Throughout, Mikhalkov captures the most unlikely yet credible cultural juxtapositions, the most delightful of which is Gombo’s daughter (Bao Yongyan) proving to be an accordion virtuoso, playing Mozart’s “Rondo Alla Turca” for the delighted Sergei. (She had been taught by a family friend in the city, a Chinese who plays Chopin in white tie and tails on a grand piano for the entertainment of the guests at the surprisingly swanky local hotel.)

The majestic, poetic quality of “Close to Eden” soars in a dazzling dream sequence in which Gombo imagines himself confronting Genghis Khan, who excoriates him for his modern ways, especially for his purchase of the TV set (which happens to be playing “Rambo III”--talk about implications of cultural imperialism).

“Close to Eden’s” original title is “Urga,” the Mongolian word for a pole with a lasso attached that’s used to capture animals--and sometimes lovers. An “urga” firmly planted in the ground is a signal not to trespass--that nearby a couple is making love out in the open fields. “Close to Eden” (Times-rated Family), which begins with Gombo lassoing Pagma, comes full circle with another such pursuit--but one which fittingly ends more successfully.

‘Close to Eden’

Bayaertu: Gombo

Badema: Pagma

Vladimir Gostukhin: Sergei

Bao Yongyan: Bourma

A Miramax release of a Franco-Russian co-production, Camera One/Hachette premiere et Compagnie (France) and Studio Trite (URSS). Director Nikita Mikhalkov. Supervising producer Michel Seydoux. Executive producer Jean-Louis Piel. Screenplay by Roustam Ibraguimbekov; from a story by Ibraguimbekov and Mikhalkov. Cinematographer Villenn Kaluta. Editor Joelle Hache. Costumes Irina Guimo. Music Eduard Artemiev. Production design Aleksei Levtchenko. Sound Jean Umansky. In Russian and Khalkha, with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour, 46 minutes.

Times-rated Family (suitable for all able to read subtitles).