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The Next Guardian

Nothing could have prepared me for the emotional train wreck that I would become after watching The Next Guardian. Because it was introduced as a student-made documentary, I anticipated a National Geographic-esque film. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The beginning sequence was already a cinematic joy and without the presence of a standard documentary narration, I felt like I was privy to the intimacy of life of a Bhutanese family navigating generational differences. The story of two teenagers, Gyembo and Tashi resonated with me especially because their relationship was a mirror image of my older brother and me. What’s more is that our appearances, personalities, and familial responsibilities aligned almost perfectly. There is nothing I have seen onscreen in my nineteen years of existence that captures and reflects my sibling bond so perfectly. I proceeded to cry in silence at the most innocuous scene of the mother asking Tashi if they wanted to wear a pink scarf. Their staunch refusal sent a wave of bitter nostalgia through my bones. My mother also asked me if I would wear pink and every time throughout my childhood I would respond with that same irritation. A period of separation between the siblings wherein Tashi received the opportunity to compete for a spot on the National Girls’ Football Team while Gyembo was left behind to care for the family monastery, AGAIN mirrored moments in my life. I moved out of Texas’ Rio Grande Valley to attend university in Kingsville whereas my brother stayed home to finish his education while caring for our family. I could continue to rave on and on about every scene in that movie, but I won’t because I want all who read this to watch the film for themselves. I guarantee that all of the thematic elements are relatable to some degree because our desire for acceptance and happiness is a universal one.



Trina S

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