The extraordinary odyssey of a U.S. musician of Cape Verdean ancestry to Tannu Tuva, in central Asia, where nomadic people throat sing more than one note simultaneously, using vocal harmonics. A bluesman, Paul Pena, blind and recently widowed, taught himself throat singing and was by chance invited to the 1995 throat-singing symposium in Kyzyl. Helped by the "Friends of Tuva," Pena makes the arduous journey. Singing in the deep, rumbling kargyraa style, Pena gives inspired performances at the festival, composes songs in Tuvan, washes his face in sacred rivers, expresses the disorientation of blindness in foreign surroundings, and makes a human connection with everyone he meets.

The ancient art of Tuvan throat singing may not sound like the most scintillating subject for a movie, but for those wishing to immerse themselves in a different culture or meet remarkable people, this inspiring and exhilarating Oscar-nominated documentary will be pure pleasure. This is a story no Hollywood screenwriter could have imagined. Paul Pena is a blind San Francisco blues singer who has played with the likes of John Lee Hooker and Jerry Garcia (he also penned "Jet Airliner," which Steve Miller covered). One night while listening to his shortwave radio, he picked up a Radio Moscow broadcast and heard the mesmerizing, gutteral sound of throat singing, which is peculiar to Tuva's region of upper Mongolian. Enthralled, he became a master of this obscure art form. Enter Friends of Tuva, a curious group that included Nobel Prize-winning physicist Richard Feynman, who likewise had become fascinated with Tuva. In 1993 they sponsored a San Francisco appearance by Tuvan singers. Pena was in the audience and met with the singers afterward. Pena so impressed the Tuvans that he was encouraged to come to Tuva and participate in its annual festival competition. Genghis Blues chronicles this incredible journey. Pena's performance is as joyous and triumphant as the Buena Vista Social Club's Carnegie Hall concert, but this is more than just a one-note concert film. It also movingly charts Pena's friendship with revered Tuvan singer Kongar-ol Ondar (whose stature is described as "John F. Kennedy, Elvis Presley, and Michael Jordan rolled into one"). Documentarians Roko and Adrian Belic modestly profess they were ill equipped to make this documentary. They may have a point, but would you pass up such an opportunity? --Donald Liebenson