Halmg unn. Lyudmila Namrueva. A movie that touches the soul.

Article from the newspaper “Halmg unn” dated 06/27/2026.

At the National Library named after A.M. Amur‑”Sanana” “”On June 20, a truly powerful cultural event took place: two short films by Arltan Bembeyev were shown — “Goodbye, Kalmyk Land!” and “Soudle” (“Bench”).

Auteur cinema is a special phenomenon in modern art, where the creative freedom of the director becomes the main priority. Such films are created at the personal expense of the creators, people who support the talent and ideas of creative personalities, without regard to potential rental and box office fees, not for commercial gain. The film’s creative team is a family tandem. Arltan Bembeev acts as not only the script writer, but also the director of photography, taking on the functions of cameraman and editor. His sister Kermen Bembeeva holds the post of second director, helping to realize the artistic idea.

The audience who came to the screening of A. Bembeyev’s films experienced such a deep emotional shock: under the powerful influence of what they saw, both young viewers and older people were sitting next to each other. Every frame, every pause echoed in the soul — someone held back tears, someone held their breath, and after the end credits there was a long, almost sacred silence, followed by sincere applause.

“Farewell, the land of Kalmykia!”

At a meeting with the audience, Arltan Bembeyev said that the idea of the first film was born from a revived painting by his father— the People’s Artist of Kalmykia Grigory Bembeyev. That very canvas captured the terrible date — December 28, 1943, the day of the Kalmyks’ deportation. And the screen literally transported us to that reality. The black-and-white film, like a chronicle from a forgotten dream, showed a modest adobe house where a family of four lived: eja, a young mother and her two children — an eight-year-old boy and a baby. Peaceful silence, barely audible whispers, familiar household sounds… And suddenly — the roar of soldiers’ boots, tearing the calm to pieces.

The soldier reads out the decree: all Kalmyks are declared traitors. The woman’s face is in the frame: confusion, disbelief, pain. Her question sounds like a cry from the soul.: “What kind of traitors are we, have we not seen fascists?” And in response — the inhuman shout of the officer, which makes the skin crawl. In this scene, Bembeev masterfully conveys the horror of the moment through the details: the trembling hands of the mother, the frozen gaze of the child, the creaking of the door, as if fate itself were turning the page.

In the second part of the film, the action shifts to a room where Kalmyks have gathered to listen to the radio, their only channel of communication with the world. The children are playing in the alcoves, the adults are frozen in anxious expectation. The air is thick with tension, and every sound seems louder than usual. And suddenly — a melody. The Kalmyk song “Delyash” is being played on the All—Union radio for the first time in the long thirteen years of repression.

The camera catches the faces: first disbelief, then a flash of hope, a smile, tears. For the people, this song has become a symbol of freedom, a message that they can return to their native steppes. One sound of the native language, one melody — and the whole epoch seems to be taking a breath after a long suffocation.

This short meter is a memory brought to life on the screen. Arltan Bembeev managed to convey not only the historical truth, but also the depth of human feelings: the pain of loss, the power of hope, and fortitude. His works remind us that art is able to speak to us in the language of the heart — without unnecessary words, through details, images, silence. After watching it for a long time, I felt as if I had gone through these moments myself — from despair to light, from the silence of exile to the voice of my native land.

“Soudle” (“Bench”)

This film, which recently won the Athens International Film Festival (AIMAFF), made our hearts ache and made us think about things that we often prefer not to notice. “”Honorable Mention”””was awarded to the short film “Soodle” (“The Bench”) “for outstanding artistic qualities”, this award is given to projects that are in the top 3 of their category. The special atmosphere of the painting is created by the music of Denis Stelmakh, whose compositions surprisingly accurately convey the emotional state of the characters, becoming an integral part of the narrative.

“Swoodle” is a story that unfolds on an ordinary park bench. It would seem that what could be more banal? But it is here, on this humble island of the world, that a drama unfolds that has touched me to the core. The two main characters are a grandfather and a boy named Zayan.

Aav, as grandfather is respectfully called, found himself without a fixed place of residence. All his possessions fit into a cardboard box on wheels, a blanket and pillow in a bright canvas bag, simple food in a cellophane bag. But among these meager possessions there is something special — several rolled-up issues of the newspaper “Halmg unn”. For me, who works for the main republican newspaper, this became a poignant detail.

The newspaper does not just acquaint him with the news of the republic — it serves as a channel of communication with his native speech when Kalmyk speech is not heard around. The pages of the newspaper provide food for memories, reflections, and perhaps comfort in the most difficult moments. They contain a part of what makes him himself.

Grandpa speaks in simple sentences in his native language, but the children don’t understand him. Then he patiently translates into Russian. In this scene, the director focuses with ruthless precision on the problem of the disappearance of the Kalmyk language. It is amazing: the language has been preserved in conditions of total disenfranchisement, during the period of forced stay in a foreign land, but it is gradually fading away in its native land.

As a sociologist, I am acutely aware of the social depth of this film. A grandfather in an old jacket that has no one to sew in several places, in a warm white hat in early September, he seems invisible to the outside world. A close—up of his hands is shown – strong, overworked, with prominent veins and wrinkles, indicating years of hard work. How many such grandfathers turn out to be lonely and useless in their declining years? How many stories, how much wisdom goes with them?

The boy Zayan (played by Tagir Shalburov), direct, open and kind, sees in him not a homeless man, but a simple, guileless person with whom you can enthusiastically play. For a moment, it seems that this friendship is capable of overcoming all barriers. But the idyll is rudely violated by a categorical mother demanding that the “homeless man” stop communicating with her son.

And yet, out of habit, Zayan runs to the bench, waiting for a wise grandfather. This expectation contains all the sincerity and faith in goodness of children. He still doesn’t understand that the adult world is sometimes cruel and indifferent.

The main role was played by Nyamn (Alexey) Sanquev — and his playing impresses with amazing organicity and naturalness. It’s hard to believe that this is not a professional actor, but a simple driver, a kindergarten guard. Throughout the short film, every action of Nyamn Sanquev — whether it’s slowly dragging a cart, peeling an egg, slicing a cucumber, or relaxing on a bench — is filled with such inner depth that you involuntarily feel sincere pity and empathy.

Arltan Bembeyev’s film does not entertain — it awakens the conscience. He forces us to ask ourselves questions that we usually turn away from in the rush of days.:

– Are we living the right life if we allow old people to become invisible?

– Do we value our native language, or do we let it fade away in the daily rush?

– Do we know how to see a person behind external circumstances?

Arltan Bembeyev’s films are not just movies. It is a mirror in which our soul is reflected. This is a reminder that humanity is measured not by words, but by the ability to see, hear, and understand those around you.

Many speakers after the screening said that such films should definitely be seen by children and students. And this is the deep truth. Through stories like the film “Soodle”, the younger generation gets acquainted not only with the history of the people, but also with the power of the human spirit, with the value of compassion, with the importance of preserving the roots.

When the article was ready, it became known that the film “Soodle” would become a participant in the V Buddhist International Film Festival, which would be held in the city of Kyzyl, the capital of the Republic of Tyva, during the IV International Buddhist Forum. We sincerely wish the film a successful screening and a response in the hearts of the audience. And participation in the festival will open up new opportunities for the creative development of the team.

However, despite his sincere involvement and talent, it is not easy for a director today to move on to creating full-length films. The production of a full—length film is a large-scale process that requires significant resources: financing for filming in different locations, technical equipment, involvement of a professional team, organization of logistics and postproduction.

It is especially difficult when it comes to films based on the real fates of Kalmyks. Such stories require a careful approach, historical authenticity, and careful study of details — from costumes and decorations to dialogues and the atmosphere of the era. Filming often requires expeditions to remote areas, consultations with historians, ethnographers, old-timers, and work with archival materials. All this significantly increases the cost of time and money.

At the same time, I am glad that like-minded and kindred spirits invariably support such projects, realizing their importance for the development of cinematography in the republic. We hope that the number of such people will increase. Many in Kalmykia understand that cinema strengthens the connection between the past and the present, and art becomes a bridge between generations; unique stories that might otherwise have been forgotten are preserved and revived; the younger generation gets the opportunity to learn about the fate of their ancestors through powerful artistic expression.

Everyone’s contribution, whether it’s financial assistance, expert participation, or just the sincere interest of the viewer, brings closer the moment when full—length films about the real destinies of the Kalmyks will be released – deep, honest, and truly necessary.