In 1937, a procession of Tibetan monks, including Reting Rimpoche (Sonam Phuntsok), arrives in a village near the Chinese border. The thirteenth Dalai Lama – human manifestation of the Buddha of Compassion – has died, and Reting is searching for the next incarnation of their ruler. Traveling under the guise of servants, they discover a promising candidate, the impetuous young boy from a large, poor family.

The boy – called Lhamo by his doting mother (Tencho Gyalpo) – is given a test by the monks. They ask him to sort through personal effects and choose which ones he thinks belong to him. Several of the items belong to the thirteenth Dalai Lama, and when Lhamo passes the test, he confirms Reting’s belief that the boy is their ruler reincarnated. Lhamo and his family are later brought to the city of Lhasa, where he is to be installed as the Dalai Lama when he comes of age.

Lhamo gets scared when the monks come to shave his head, and in the best scene in the film, Reting comforts him by saying, “You have chosen to come back to this life once more. You will stay as long as you can, and then, you will come again. You will be born again and again as long as all life continues. You are here to love all living things. Just love them. Care for them. Have compassion for them.”

A few years later, an internal power struggle within the government of Tibet forces Reting to be imprisoned. This prompts Lhamo to demand a greater role in political affairs. At the age of fifteen and now the Dalai Lama (Tenzin Thuthob Tsarong), he is faced with the threat of invasion by China. His advisers ask the young Dalai Lama to lead them, but he doubts he has the experience.

When the Chinese Communists emerge victorious in their revolution, Chairman Mao sends troops to invade, claiming he wants to peacefully liberate Tibet. With its legacy of non-violence and only 5,000 soldiers to protect Tibet, the Dalai Lama petitions the west for help. When they ignore him, the Dalai Lama ventures to Peking, where he meets with Chairman Mao. He accepts Mao’s promise that he only wants to help the Tibetan people modernize.

But Mao tells the Dalai Lama, “Tibet has been poisoned by religion. And your people are poisoned and inferior.” Mao seeks to reeducate the Tibetans, and when they resist, the Chinese respond with brutal oppression. The Dalai Lama is convinced by his family and advisers to leave Lhasa when it becomes clear the Chinese are trying to kill him. Under the cover of night, the Dalai Lama and his party make their way by horseback across the Tibetan plateau to India.

Screenwriter Melissa Mathison – who co-adapted The Black Stallion and wrote what was for a time, the highest grossing movie in history – E.T. – became fascinated with the story of the Dalai Lama. She thought it would make a wonderful movie, and once she received permission from the Dalai Lama – who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989 and travels constantly to promote Tibetan self-determination – she wrote a screenplay, and sent one of her many drafts to director Martin Scorsese.

Scorsese was busy making a movie about greed, and felt that “Casino shows where we’re going to end up with that kind of thinking; in a hole in the ground, beaten to death with bats.” He wanted no part of the Tibetan craze sweeping the entertainment industry, but wanted to address the spiritual side of humanity in a film. Scorsese had a deal with Disney, and was able to shoot the project largely in the Atlas Film Studios in Ouarzazate, Morocco, using a cast of non-professional actors.

Disney came under fire from the Chinese government for backing and distributing Kundun, which the Chinese felt promoted Tibetan independence. According to Mathison, the studio stood up for the film, but weren’t thrilled about it. Disney wanted to do business in China, and as a result, never got 100% behind the film. It garnered some respectful critical notices, and was nominated for four Academy Awards (including Philip Glass’ innovative musical score), but was largely ignored everywhere else.

Instead of making a historical epic – like Schindler’s List, say- with characters who lead us through an ethnic atrocity, and try to stop it, Kundun tells the story of a boy’s spiritual development into a young man. We see only what he sees, learn only what he learns. Working with director of photography Roger Deakins and production designer Dante Ferretti, Scorsese tells that story with an impressionistic verve that wanders, mesmerizes, perplexes, and ultimately rewards anyone patient enough to stick with it.

Having earned the title of “greatest working filmmaker in America” since cutting corners to get The Last Temptation of Christ made, Scorsese was now able to make a magnificent looking picture about spiritual development. The panoramas of the mountains have a John Ford styled splendor to them, and the camera setups are highly imaginative. But Scorsese resists the temptation to romanticize Tibet. This is not Shangri-la. The country’s political and economic abyss is visible on the edges of the frame at all times.

At first, I didn’t feel the material suited Scorsese very well. Watching it a second time, and conducting a bit of research on the Dalai Lama, helped me appreciate this a lot more. There are terrific visual motifs throughout, including the Dalai Lama’s recurring notice of footwear at different stages in his life. And the performances Scorsese gets out of the non-professionals – particularly the boy who plays the six-year-old Dalai Lama – are outstanding, and thematically, serves as a thought provoking counterweight to Casino.