Film 360
Essay 2
Instructor: Todd Decker
Summer Sun
03.23.2025
The Voice of Tibet: The Role of Tibetan Horn in Kundun
“A long, deep, whirring, haunting wail that takes you out somewhere beyond the highest
Himalaya peaks and at the same time back into your mother's womb.” —— Tsultrim Allione
Kundun (1997), directed by Martin Scorsese, tells a devastating yet inspiring story of the
Fourteenth Dalai Lama’s journey from childhood to adulthood. The film follows how he was
chosen as the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama, his upbringing in the Potala Palace, his ascension
as the highest spiritual leader of Tibet, his struggle to maintain peace with the Chinese
government, and ultimately, his decision to leave his homeland and establish an independent
government in India. The Buddhist philosophy embedded in the characters and narrative is both
captivating and deeply spiritual.
Notably, whether in Philip Glass’s film score or the sound effects themselves, the Tibetan
horn emerges as a powerful and recurring sonic element throughout the film. More than simply
an indicator of geographical setting, the Tibetan horn is deeply intertwined with the film’s
religious themes and emotional narrative. The horn’s blasts appear at the most significant
moments in the story—when the boy is chosen, when he becomes the Dalai Lama, when he
chooses to leave Tibet, and in the founding of the government in exile.
This paper will explore four key scenes that correspond to these pivotal moments and
analyze the role of the Tibetan horn in each. Its sound echoes through the sky, the earth, and
everything in between. It is a voice that is spiritual, holy, mysterious, and unwavering.
The Choosing blast as recognition
The moment of being chosen as the next Dalai Lama is the most significant event in the
boy’s childhood and one of the most iconic scenes in Kundun. It marks both a sacred recognition
and a profound spiritual test. When the Panchen Lama first lays eyes on the boy, and as the child
successfully identifies the personal belongings of the previous Dalai Lama, the sequence
becomes one of the holiest and most spiritually charged moments in the film.
At [00:08:35], the Panchen Lama steps into the boy’s home, accompanied by Philip
Glass’s Northern Tibet [1:20–1:35]. The music features a subtle, repetitive motif layered with
singing bowls, creating a suspended, expectant atmosphere. At [00:08:59], however, as the
Panchen Lama pulls out and wipes a bowl, the score suddenly stops. The camera then zooms in
on the Buddhist prayer beads (mala) hanging around his neck. At [00:09:07], there is a close-up
of the boy staring at the beads—an object we later learn belonged to the previous Dalai Lama.
He then points directly at them, instinctively recognizing their significance.
As the camera pans upward from the prayer beads to the Panchen Lama’s face on
[00:09:10], the first five seconds of Dark Kitchen by Philip Glass are introduced. This melody,
which also appears in The Choosing score, signals the weight of the moment. When the camera
reaches the Panchen Lama’s eyes on [00:09:15], a strong, resonant blast of the Tibetan horn
enters the soundscape. As their eyes meet, the Panchen Lama begins to sense the boy’s spiritual
identity. A close-up of the boy’s eyes soon follows, reinforcing this moment of silent
recognition. The Tibetan horn emphasizes the gravity of this gaze—not simply by increasing in
volume to draw attention, but by aligning with the eyes to signify a deep spiritual recognition
and connection between the two.
The choosing scene that follows is iconic, unfolding between [00:11:12–00:14:06],
accompanied by The Choosing by Philip Glass. The score consists of roughly four distinct
layers: a sustained light string background, a high-pitched repetitive motif, a descending horn
line (repeated in three low-register drops), and, finally, a striking, almost dissonant blast of the
Tibetan horn. While the first two layers provide a steady musical atmosphere that recurs
throughout the soundscape, the latter two introduce moments of unpredictability—mirroring the
uncertainty of the choosing process itself. Just as there is no cue for when the Tibetan horn will
enter, there is no clear indication of which object the boy will select next.
There are four notable musical events in this scene, each marked by a strong blast of the
Tibetan horn. At [00:11:51], the boy raises his head slightly, preparing to choose his first item.
At [00:12:30], he correctly selects a ring from two options. At [00:13:10], he picks the right pair
of eyeglasses. Finally, at [00:13:50], he accurately identifies a walking stick. These moments of
recognition are punctuated by the horn blasts, clearly signifying the boy’s correct choices. The
repetitive motifs between these blasts emphasize the tension and uncertainty of the process. In
this scene, the Tibetan horn is once again reserved for moments of spiritual significance. Each
blast marks a step closer to the boy’s recognition as the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, reinforcing the
idea that this is not just a test—it is a sacred ceremony of recognition. Interestingly, the score
seems entirely non-diegetic, yet the father’s entrance abruptly stops the music, and each horn
blast aligns with the boy’s correct choices—blurring the line between non-diegetic and diegetic
sound, and tying the score closely to the ceremony.
The Becoming blast as sanctity
If the choosing represents the destiny of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, the becoming marks
the pivotal moment when he begins to understand and prepare himself to fully devote his life to
the future of Tibet. The responsibilities of the Dalai Lama are “by no means small and weigh
heavily upon the mind.” In one key scene, taking place around the midpoint of the film, a
Rinpoche presents the letter from the Thirteenth Dalai Lama and discusses Tibet’s uncertain
future with the young boy. This moment is crucial—it is the first time the Rinpoches begin
treating him not just as a child, but as a leader, engaging him in the serious issues they face.
Once again, the Tibetan horn appears in the score, serving as a sonic representation of spiritual
recognition and sacred responsibility.
The letter-reading and document-watching scene spans from [00:47:44–00:50:30],
accompanied by the first half of The Thirteenth Dalai Lama by Philip Glass. Like The Choosing,
this piece consists of two primary layers: a repetitive, light string background and unpredictable
Tibetan horn drops. The musical event here is again the Tibetan horn, but this time it takes the
form of eight even blasts played in a roll. While the scene focuses on the dialogue as the
Rinpoches read and discuss the letter from the previous Dalai Lama, the horn blasts occur four
times throughout, marking distinct moments of narrative and spiritual weight.
At [00:47:47], the scene begins with a close-up of the letter, and the first sequence of
horn blasts begins immediately. The alignment between the image and the sound signifies the
sacredness of the document, immediately establishing the letter’s spiritual authority. At
[00:48:20], another set of eight horn blasts enters just after the Rinpoche says, “and then the
Chinese invaded,” as the camera cuts to a portrait of the Thirteenth Dalai Lama. The horn here
underscores the gravity and urgency of the moment, while the unpredictability of the musical cue
mirrors the suddenness of the Chinese invasion—catching both Tibet and the audience off guard.
At [00:49:07], following the Rinpoche’s somber and profound reflection, a third horn
sequence begins. In this moment, a carefully crafted montage appears between [00:49:07–
00:49:10]: the camera cuts to a close-up of a Buddha statue, and as the horn continues to blast,
the image of the statue fades into the face of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, perfectly aligned with
the statue’s features. This powerful visual transition suggests the boy as a living embodiment of
the Buddha—a reincarnated spiritual leader. The horn blast here reinforces his divine authority
and signals his emerging role as the one destined to guide the Tibetan people through crisis.
Finally, at [00:50:13], as the scene shifts to the boy watching a documentary of an atomic
bomb explosion, the fourth sequence of horn blasts begins. Here, the music almost functions as
mickey-mousing, mimicking the imagery of destruction on screen. Much like the earlier
instance, the horn once again conveys urgency and foreshadows the severity of the conflict
ahead. In all four cases, the Tibetan horn acts as a sacred call to awareness, marking key
moments of spiritual realization and historical threat.
The Leaving blast as unwavering
As the film approaches its conclusion, the motivations behind the Fourteenth Dalai
Lama’s decision to leave Tibet become clear. His departure is not an act of surrender, but a
deliberate choice—to preserve the integrity of Tibetan Buddhism and to establish an independent
government in exile, all while avoiding direct violent conflict with the Chinese government.
Near the end of the film, a key scene portrays the formation of this new government and the
symbolic weight of this transition. The Tibetan horn plays a crucial role—however, this time as a
sound effect rather than part of the musical score. This shift further emphasizes the importance of
the horn’s presence, highlighting its deep connection to the spiritual and narrative weight of the
key moments. It represents Dalai Lamas unwavering commitment to religious identity and
leadership in exile.
Between [02:01:11–02:01:43], the film depicts the formation of the Tibetan government
in exile, accompanied by Philip Glass’s Escape to India. At the beginning of the sequence, the
camera captures a wide shot of the ceremonial gathering, during which the Tibetan horn is heard
as a diegetic sound marking the start of the ceremony. At the very end of the scene, another blast
of the horn signifies the conclusion of the formation. These two appearances frame the entire
sequence, emphasizing the Tibetan horn’s continued importance. It not only symbolizes the
beginning and end of a solemn ritual, but also affirms the Dalai Lama’s—and the Tibetan
people’s—deep, unwavering spiritual foundation. Even in exile, the sound of the horn reinforces
a sense of continuity, rootedness, and religious conviction.
In Kundun, the Tibetan horn is far more than a cultural marker—it is a sacred voice
woven into the fabric of the Dalai Lama’s journey. Through moments of recognition,
transformation, and exile, the horn functions as a spiritual signal, reinforcing the film’s themes of
destiny, responsibility, and resilience.