Fifteen years ago, blind San Francisco blues musician Paul Pena, best known for writing the Steve Miller Band hit "Jet Airliner," happened upon the guttural hum of "throat-singing" on a Russian radio program while scanning with his short-wave. Further investigation led him to discover its origins in Tuva, an autonomous Russian republic in Central Asia sandwiched between Outer Mongolia and Siberia. Remarkably, Pena was able to teach himself the kargyraa style of throat-singing—which sounds much like an alien transmission from an old science-fiction movie—and a full decade later, he traveled to Tuva's National Theatre for its annual festival and competition. Roko and Adrian Belic followed Pena on his journey, and their fine documentary, Genghis Blues, rambles through the Tuvan countryside, uncovering fascinating pieces of its history and traditions along the way. With Pena's climactic performance providing a natural and satisfying story arc, the Belics are given the freedom to loosely explore this obscure region without losing purpose. As it happens, throat-singing is a prime example of the Tuvans' struggle to keep their fading cultural markers from being eclipsed by Russians', much like klezmer music reasserts Yiddish heritage. The importance of tradition is a theme that informs just about every encounter in the film, making the festival itself seem all the more joyous. The Belics are limited by their relatively crude video and sound recording, and they step in front of the camera far more than necessary. But, more crucially, Genghis Blues covers exotic terrain that few viewers will ever get a chance to see otherwise.