“Vaklush” delves into the character of Vaklush Tolev—a spiritual teacher and thinker, one of the few who try to offer a holistic worldview grounded in our fundamental concerns and joys. Usually, these are the things that inspire us to change our surroundings, even if we don’t see ourselves as people with a mission to enlighten others. In his perception of humans and the world in general, Vaklush eclectically combines the wisdom of different religions and philosophical movements to make sense of the here and now. And, as a gentle therapist, he conveys his ideas by using his glorious gift of speech. He communicates simply and comprehensibly. Vaklush instils respect with the surgical precision of his phrase, combined with the mercy of someone who is a contemporary and a companion, or, in his words, a fellow devotee. According to him, every person is a god in the making, whereas gods themselves seem to be degrading. Will the two groups ever meet? That’s the spiritual revolution he awaits.

On the occasion of Tolev’s 100th birthday, some of his books have been reissued, and his figure is celebrated with the renewed version of the movie “Vaklush.” This version doesn’t adopt the sugar-coated flavour typical of a jubilee event, as it was created in the span of over two decades. The author is Nikolay Vasilev, director of “Theo’s Formula,” yet another story of a spiritual guide who tries to make sense of today’s world and our presence in it. We look at the dignified, graceful man surrounded by humbled crowds who soak in his every idea. We witness the way journalists, stunned by Vaklush’s presence, can’t seem to elicit anything more from him besides what’s already well-known. Even so, he’s strikingly benevolent and eloquent. Famous Bulgarians, like the historian Andrey Pantev or the former president Petar Stoyanov, try to measure him on a scale but to no success. His words flow, and stunned admirers nod, waiting for the next sentence, while he juggles with words and emphasizes the few things he finds most important.

When he stands in front of the camera, Vaklush revels in his artistry. He’s no stranger to performance high and recognises his sense of mission and personal significance. He smiles meekly, but with a certain slyness. He likes being listened to but welcomes confrontation, too. Rejoicing in himself and others doesn’t push the viewer away; it actually brings them closer. The movie also gives screentime to people who’ve helped Vaklush in one way or another. That’s the thing about people carrying great wisdom—they help everyone but can’t help themselves. Those who have supported Vaklush don’t brag; they merely mention he was unfit for the way the world works, so they gave him a part-time job here, a sinecure there. Isn’t it weird that fate requires us to be either saviours or executioners of those who simply refuse to hide their thoughts? Why is it that meaningful conversation is still considered abnormal, even if it’s passed through the media centrifuge? Vaklush once said, “I live legally in an illegal time…”

His vicissitudes as an educator who was unpopular with the people in power don’t make him perceive himself as a martyr. Despite having spent years in prison, where they tried to break his will, Vaklush has no regrets but instead lets life be his teacher. He claims suffering is an opportunity to grow—Sisyphus is not desperate; he’s just a workaholic. The old man with long hair and smiling eyes explains you can carry the entire world on your shoulders and not feel its weight. Another thought of his strikes us by showing how kind, yet tart, he can be: the sufferer can be comforted, and suffering is growth, while the one who’s looking for joy can never get completely satisfied. The movie reiterates this idea—in it, everyone will find something comforting and inspiring, but those who are looking for a reason to doubt Vaklush will find it. The film could benefit from a few more debates, as Vaklush has a talent for polemics. There’s a single instance where we see him get into an actual confrontation. Monologues dominate the plot, so it’s helpful that once in a while Vaklush reminisces about smart dialogue and ironic exchanges. For example, once, someone asked him why his hair was as long as a woman’s, to which he responded, “I wasn’t aware women represented something wrong in our lives.” It seems there’s only one occasion when he’s left speechless. He meets a group of women going to work in the field and asks them how they are. They respond predictably; but suddenly, one of them dares, “We’re alright, what choice do we have…”. The cheerful old man stands still, smiling in awe. He’s pleasantly surprised by the holiness of the people around him. That’s the main message the director is trying to send. In this movie, we don’t encounter a lonely sage who’s misunderstood and unappreciated. We meet a fellow devotee. Admiring him doesn’t stem from servility but rather, out of love.

“Vaklush” doesn’t situate its main character in the past. The director follows him through different stages, and the audience gets the sense they’ve come a long way together with the thinker. The emphasis is on his preachings, and in the case of Vaklush Tolev, deservingly so. His insights are worth keeping the conversation going after the movie’s over, too.

Материалът е изготвен
с финансовата подкрепа
на Националния фонд „Култура”.