Every outsider who takes Buddhism seriously enough to become a monk must have an interesting story. I once spent a night in a Buddhist monastery that had been established in a jumble of very old farm buildings in the north of England, and the personalities of the shorn-headed novitiates there suggested a variety of difficult paths and tangled backgrounds (the abbot was an American who’d gotten fascinated with spirituality after his Vietnam war service). Monk With a Camera takes an alluring shortcut to telling one of those stories; instead of focusing on a random Westerner who falls into the saffron robes of the East, it profiles a socialite and onetime jet-setter whose family name conjures the high glamour of a bygone era.
In photos from the ’70s, Nicholas Vreeland looks as though he ought to be running around London with Michael Caine and Paul McCartney—except he’s better dressed. The grandson of famed Vogue magazine editor Diana Vreeland and son of a well-traveled diplomat, Nicky grew up with privilege draped around his shoulders and a camera hung around his neck. He stopped being a playboy—and, for a while, taking pictures—when he devoted himself to Tibetan Buddhism in the late 1970s; he become a monk some years later. In other words, directors Tina Mascara and Guido Santi (Chris & Don: A Love Story) had some close-to-surefire material to work with here, given the incredible distance between Vreeland’s origins and his current status as abbot of the Rato monastery in India.
The documentary is straightforwardly and handsomely done, with approving appearances from Vreeland’s brother and father (the latter is the kind of upper-crustie who perpetually looks as though he’s just stepped off one Kennedy yacht or another). They seem delighted by Nicky’s life story, although one would like to hear about past worries or misgivings—there must have been some. The Dalai Lama also drops by for cameo appearances, his customary giggle very much in place, and Richard Gere is his usual important self. With his long nose and singsong mid-Atlantic voice, Nicky at first resembles the latest Steve Carell transformation, but generally comes across as sincere and super-focused. Monk With a Camera has a placid air about it, an air of acceptance, perhaps. That it embodies a certain Buddhist calm is appropriate, although it doesn’t make for the most exciting movie-watching experience.
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MONK WITH A CAMERA Runs Fri., Feb. 13–Mon., Feb. 16 at SIFF Film Center. Not rated. 90 minutes.
