Kekexili: Mountain Patrol (2004)

Sometimes brave people can bring about change

As the Tibetan antelope numbers rapidly decreased from one million to around 10,000 in the 1990's, men from the Kekexili area formed the Mountain Patrol to deter poachers from the area. Based on a true story, in the nearly lawless, desolate land the patrol had no one to rely on but themselves. Outmanned and outgunned by the ruthless poachers they would have to be resolute in their convictions in the unforgiving terrain to save the endangered animals…and themselves.

A Beijing journalist with a Tibetan father, Gu Ya, succeeds in imbedding himself with the Mountain Patrol. Their leader, battle hardened Ri Tae, accepts him with the hope a story could bring more help to their cause. The patrol is mourning the loss of one of their own who was murdered recently by the poachers. Gu Ya scarcely has time to unpack his bag before the men head out on patrol to track down the murderers. Along the way they cover barren desert and forbidding mountains. Gu Ya discovers how harshly they interrogate witnesses and suspects, especially after they come across nearly 500 hundred dead and peltless antelope. The patrol reverently stacks the carcasses and burns them with a funeral rite. The small band of men have to resort to selling the pelts they discover to pay for medical care and supplies.

The patrol was decimated by illness and death. The earth reminded them that despite their noble cause, they were vulnerable in spaces without food and water, where snowstorms could erupt in a moment, and quicksand could swallow a man in a matter of seconds. The desert and blizzard winds mercilessly erased all traces that a person had ever been there. Ri Tae was a man possessed with catching the murdering poachers which endangered not only himself but also his men as they ran low on food and fuel. Tibetan actor Duo Bu Jie was perfect as the patrol leader who was relentless in his pursuit of his enemy and also loved his men and the land.

Mountain Patrol could be disturbing with scenes of animals being butchered with numerous carcasses and bullet ridden pelts. Yet it also featured beautiful and stark landscapes. Director Lu Chuan filmed on location where the events were said to have happened in a land so remote a person's steps could be the first footsteps there since the dawn of time. The soundtrack was emotionally haunting, perfectly accenting a scene without intruding. The story was gut wrenching as the men with "dirty hands and pure hearts" suffered devastating losses. Yet their losses for a cause they believed in did bring about change. After their stories became published the government designated the land a natural preserve and the antelope population has steadily increased. Lu Chuan never fully answered what compelled these men to risk their lives in service to the graceful animals, but the world is a slightly better place because they did.

9/1/23

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Haunting, raw and unforgiving

Kekexili: Mountain Patrol (2004), directed by Lu Chuan, is a gripping and unflinching exploration of humanity’s struggle against the forces of nature and greed. Inspired by the true story of Sonam Dargye, a Tibetan ranger killed in 1994 while confronting poachers, the film follows a group of volunteer rangers—the Mountain Patrol—as they risk their lives to protect the endangered Tibetan antelope in one of the most inhospitable terrains on earth.

The documentary-style filmmaking is one of the film’s most prominent features, lending an unparalleled authenticity to the story. There is no elaborate camerawork, no smooth tracking shots, no aerial footage—just the unrefined, often shaky hand-held cinematography that immerses the audience in the grittiness of the experience. The film was made in the early 2000s, well before the widespread use of drones, high-end stabilization or ultra-HD imaging, and this lack of technical refinement only enhances its visceral impact. The erratic movements of the camera mirror the instability of the environment, making the viewer feel as though they are right there with the patrol, enduring the bitter cold, suffocating dust, and unforgiving terrain.

The pacing of the film is deliberately slow, reflecting the grueling nature of the patrol’s journey. There are no grand heroics or manufactured moments of triumph—only exhaustion, futility, and the ever-present specter of death. It’s this patience in storytelling that makes Kekexili so evocative. The quiet moments, whether a long stretch of road with no sign of life or the silent, knowing exchanges between characters, resonate just as deeply as the film’s most harrowing scenes.

Adding to its power are the sweeping landscapes of the Kekexili region, which serve not just as a backdrop but as an active force within the film. The vast, empty plains and towering, snow-covered peaks embody both the staggering beauty and mercilessness of this remote land. The cinematography captures the sheer scale of the environment, reinforcing the insignificance of human beings within it. Each frame tells a story of isolation, endurance, and an unspoken reverence for the land.

At its core, Kekexili: Mountain Patrol is a powerful plea for conservation. The struggle of the rangers against poachers is not just about saving a species but about maintaining the delicate balance between human survival and environmental stewardship. Kekexili is a land where survival is brutal, and the lines between right and wrong blur in the face of desperation.

The film’s authenticity is further bolstered by its cast, which primarily consists of local Tibetan actors. Their performances are understated yet deeply moving, conveying a quiet resilience and determination that feels genuine. The film’s sparse dialogue allows the actors’ expressions and body language to speak volumes, further emphasizing the weight of their mission.

The soundtrack complements the film’s stark visuals with a minimal yet evocative score. Its atmospheric melodies underscore the film’s somber tone and heightens the emotional weight of the story without ever feeling intrusive. The ambient sound design—howling winds, distant gunshots, the crunch of boots on frozen ground—adds another layer of immersion, pulling the audience deeper into the bleak yet beautiful world of Kekexili.

The film closes with a simple yet powerful on-screen tribute, ensuring that Sonam Dargye’s legacy is not forgotten—his sacrifice became a turning point for conservation efforts in the region, galvanizing the creation of the Kekexili National Nature Reserve in 1995. Today, a martyr’s monument stands at the foot of the Kunlun Mountains, a solemn reminder of the price paid to protect this land and its wildlife.

Kekexili: Mountain Patrol is not an easy film to watch, but it is an unforgettable one. Its raw and unfiltered approach strips away the romanticism often associated with survival stories, leaving behind something far more affecting: a stark and poetic introspection on sacrifice, loss, and the thin line between heroism and futility. It’s a film that lingers long after the credits roll, much like the desolate landscapes it so beautifully captures.

Footnote:
Western journalism often conflates the entire Tibetan Plateau with the Tibetan Autonomous Region (TAR), frequently framing any film set in Tibetan cultural areas within the broader geopolitical discourse of Tibet and China. Kekexili: Mountain Patrol is sometimes interpreted through this lens, with some commentators questioning whether the film carries a political subtext. However, Kekexili (Hoh Xil) is geographically located in Qinghai province, not TAR, and the film itself remains strictly focused on conservation and survival. Director Lu Chuan has emphasized that Kekexili is a non-political work, dramatizing real events concerning volunteer rangers combating poaching in the 1990s. Rather than serving as a political allegory, the film explores the harsh realities of environmental protection, the ethical dilemmas of law enforcement in remote areas, and the fragility of human existence against an unforgiving landscape.

In the end, Kekexili: Mountain Patrol transcends politics by addressing a far more urgent and universal issue—the survival of our planet’s ecosystems. It is a film that deserves to be seen and understood on its own terms, free from the weight of geopolitical speculation.

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