THE NATURAL STATE (Telluride FF 2026) – Review by Diane Carson
The Natural State probes reluctant guru U.G. Krishnamurti’s appeal
At the heart of The Natural State, a decidedly unusual documentary, is the emphatically reluctant Indian anti-guru U.G. Krishnamurti. And yet, in a daring endeavor, director Matthew Dougherty relentlessly probes the charismatic appeal of U.G. who repeatedly and adamantly tells his followers that he has no secrets or truths to share with them and that, moreover, he has no interest in changing them. Rejecting that pronouncement, in 1989, abandoning her family, Julie Thayer left New York City for the Swiss Alps, eventually attaching herself and her psychological wellbeing to U.G. Ignoring his periodic commands to go away, Julie filmed hundreds of hours of U.G. while also keeping a diary of her despair alternating with ecstasy. Drawing on Julie’s footage and writings, Dougherty interprets the curious and nonsensical events defining U.G. and his uninvited entourage.
Translating U.G.’s comments and ideas into imaginative, dreamlike images, Dougherty presents what might otherwise have become annoying reiteration of U.G.’s insistence that he has no enlightenment to share. Instead, it seems more puzzling why so many men and women, including Julie, follow and admire U.G. despite his refusal to do anything but push back on their questions. A case in point, New Zealand’s Jane Campion, a multi-award winning writer and director, including Academy Awards, executive produced The Natural State. In an interview for the film’s inclusion in this year’s Telluride Film Festival, she describes her walking with U.G. and “feeling an extraordinary amount of weird energy in my body, a completely physical response to his presence.” When she asked U.G. what he was doing to her, he responded, “I’m doing nothing.” Campion adds, “Nevertheless, there was real stuff happening for me.”
After watching Thayer’s footage and pursuing his research, The Natural State’s director Dougherty acknowledges his lifelong interest in “the possibility of enlightenment . . . losing your ego.” He also admits to “a deep skepticism, or mistrust, of spiritual figures.” Yet he recognizes U.G. as “an unusual figure because you can’t smell the con. He wasn’t playing the guru game.” Dougherty wonders how one discerns “if it’s real or not,” and he seeks answers. Tracing U.G.’s background, Dougherty offers insight into U.G.’s antipathy to “holy men.” Proclaimed as “no ordinary boy” but one who “will attain enlightenment in his life,” U.G. describes his upbringing “in a very religious atmosphere.” After his grandfather died in 1945, in 1947 U.G. attended lectures by the self-proclaimed leader J. Krishnamurti, whose photo hung on his grandfather’s wall. Denying himself everything, U.G. reports, “I got nowhere.” Equally discouraging, he spied his “holy man” teacher in private sneaking mangoes and pickles, so “I walked out.” Rejecting the “myth of enlightenment” and self-congratulatory insight, 74-year-old U.G. asserts, “I have no interest in changing you. I have no interest in freeing you because I know that there is nothing there to be free from.” And yet, in voiceover narration, Julie realizes, “U.G. is the only teacher I’ve encountered who promises nothing. I thought I was seeking enlightenment. Really, I was just terrified of abandonment.” And yet incongruously she writes, “I will do whatever it takes to stay with him. He alone is all that I desire. You think that you want what he has, that he’s free of fear of death, fear of something coming to an end, but all that is there is fear.” More problematic, U.G. pushes Julie away from him on several occasions including 1991 in Palm Springs when he forbids her to see him for three days. And yet she persists even after hurtful insults, until . . . –no spoilers.
Dougherty’s dual profiles of U.G. and Julie present a staggering, astute interrogation of the appeal and implicit (if not also explicit) comforting promise of answers to life’s greatest mysteries, realizations culminating in the inner peace followers desire. It repeatedly becomes clear that each devotee seeks some solace, some comfort, some relief from life’s exigencies. U.G. rejects the ability to provide that remedy while still bragging about 60,000 website visitors from 125 countries. What do U.G.’s followers seek and find? Can they embrace their fears and move beyond them? What does U.G. get out of his revered status even as he rejects his ability to confer enlightenment? The Natural State is a conundrum within an enigma, depicting the psychological complexity at the heart of U.G., his followers, and what makes us human.
