Mongol is a kind of movie we really haven’t seen in a while -- an ambitious, epic adventure brought to life by flesh-and-blood actors who are (thankfully) missing that CGI glow.

I’m no expert on Genghis Khan, so I can’t speak to the film’s historical accuracy. But I can speak to its storytelling ability: Russian director Sergei Bodrov, who wrote the script with Arif Aliyev, delivers an enthralling coming-of-age story of a legendary man who began to display his fearless independence while still just a child. We know that young Temudgin (played by Odnyam Odsuren as a boy and Tadanobu Asano as an adult) is no ordinary boy, when at the age of nine he defies his father’s (who is also the Khan, or leader of their Mongol clan) wishes in choosing a future wife. Soon after, Temudgin’s father is murdered and rebels assume control of the clan.

Temudgin, the rightful Khan, is taken prisoner and threatened with murder. He escapes with the help of a mysterious old man, who would reappear throughout his life, and flees the clan. The rest of the film chronicles his remarkable journey home to take back what is rightfully his, and then some. The battle scenes, while not gruesomely violent (they still earned an R rating), are intense and beautifully choreographed.

But the heart of the film, and much of Temudgin’s character, lies in his relationships with his wife, Borte (Chuluun Khulan), and his best friend/worst enemy Jamukha (Sun Honglei). The spirited wife and the charismatic sidekick are clichés that probably date back further than the 12th century, when these people actually lived. Yet, Bodrov finds a way to make the relationships seem fresh. Mongol effortlessly weaves the remarkable love story of Temudgin and Borte (between Borte and Abigail Adams, it’s been a great year for films and television depicting the partnerships between great men and their equally great wives), the complex and ultimately tragic brotherhood between Temudgin and Jamukha, and the history of Temudgin’s rise to power. All three plots could have made compelling movies on their own. Together, they create a powerful moviegoing experience for anyone willing to read the subtitles.

I’d recommend seeing this film on the biggest screen you can find it playing on if you want to do the gorgeous cinematography justice. It was filmed in Mongolia, making it easy to imagine the days when warring nomadic clans freely roamed the land. It helps give the film a feeling of authenticity that was missing from the only recent film I can sort of compare it with, the comic book/historical epic hybrid 300.

In many ways, these two films are apples and oranges: one is a technically groundbreaking retelling of a historical legend, which looks like a fable come to life; the other is a solid, traditional epic that looks like a piece of little-known history come to life. They may be apples and oranges, but with all the CGI-laden comic book and fantasy apples we’ll be eating this summer (these apples have been in season since The Lord of the Rings trilogy), this already delicious orange tastes that much sweeter.

Grade: A

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