On the Mongolian grasslands, young Nansal finds a dog and calls him Spot. Dad is none too excited about the prospect of taking in the mutt as he might attract wolves to the family’s precious sheep. A ferocious lupine attack opened the film. But the six-year old doesn’t listen to father and hides the dog who, inadvertently, gets the tyke lost when she’s out herding on horseback.

This follow up to sleeper hit The Weeping Camel takes a wafer-thin story and gives it a similarly compelling docudrama treatment. The latter was a hugely enjoyable window on a world of camels that taught us the value of violins. Having eased her style and moved the camera forward, director Davaa now brings the family centre-frame to concentrate on the human detail of nomadic life: how to disassemble a yurt, the joy of dried dung. It’s on a mission to collect faecal fuel that Nansal wanders and learns the titular legend of a dog hidden by superstitious villagers.

Offering a glimpse into an other world that hints of a modern one beyond it, the Batchuluun family, largely playing themselves, capture the truth in the cliché of life’s simple pleasures. An unhurried story that may not suit all tastes, Cave of the Yellow Dog is none the less an enchanting experience that is finely tuned to its environment. When Spot finally earns his place in the family, it caps a film that is heartfelt and uplifting without ever becoming trite. Effortless performance, sumptuous cinematography and a calm hand have combined to create a humble gem.

// COLIN FRASER