If Only I Could Hibernate

Since Mongolia moved away from a soviet one-party system in the 90s, it’s been battling to become a player on the global stage, to varying success. Zoljargal Puevdash’s ‘If Only I Could Hibernate’, the first Mongolian film to be played in Cannes official selection, focuses on the miniature of family life to shine a much needed light on a country struggling to straddle growth and prosperity.

In a yurt on the outskirts of capital Ulaanbaatar lives teenager Ulzi (Batsooj Uurtsaikh), his three younger siblings and alcoholic mother (Ganchimeg Sandagdordirj). Their late father moved them there for opportunity, but when Ulzi’s ma leaves them for agriculture work in the countryside, promising physicist Ulzi must balance his educational pursuits with his new found guardianship.

The everyday challenges he faces echo those of the city he lives in. Despite levels of pollution being over 14 times higher than WHO safe level, like many developing nations, the need for economic growth has outweighed that of reducing emissions. Ulzi, like many in Mongolia, is soon driven to the logging black market. His teacher looks on with disappointment: ‘Soon there will be no trees left on this hillside’.

Meanwhile in the yurt, unable to ‘hibernate like bears’ in the words of his younger brother, they must find ways to keep warm in the bitter winter. When he can’t rely on stolen firewood, Ulzii is forced to burn tires, pouring in bad smelling fog into their home and contributing to the clouds of smog that engulf the most polluted capital in the world. In both Ulzi's home and Ulaanbaatar, clean air is compromised for survival.

Whilst this is clearly a tale of poverty, it’s done so with nuance. Dialogue has humour as well as sadness and the cinematography is stunning even in the bleakest moments. Characters are complex and strong. Far from victims, they battle their circumstances rather than being defined by them. The cast, including strong performances from newcomers Battsooj and Nominjiguur Tsend and Tuguldar Batsaikhan, do them justice.

From the realism of the script to Johanni Curtet’s throat singing flecked score: Zoljargal Puevdash’s 'If Only I Could Hibernate’ is a story of tension. Between personal growth and loyalty, rich and poor, and modernity and tradition. It’s an introduction to Mongolian cinema for western audiences that feels pertinent in a warming world.