Asanali Ashimov was a legendary figure in Kazakh cinema, a remarkable actor who inherited and absorbed the legacy of the great masters before him and transformed it into something entirely his own. He went on to become a guiding light for the generations of artists who followed him. He passed away just shy of his ninetieth birthday, yet his artistic finesse, commanding screen presence, and profound humanity remain etched in the collective memory of the people of Kazakhstan.
His journey—from a village childhood to the rank of People’s Artist and the status of a cultural pillar—was marked by trials and unexpected twists of fate. On screen, most memorably through his portrayal of Bekejani
In the Kazakh epic Qyz Jibek, Bekezhan is a rival warrior driven by jealousy, whose betrayal culminates in the murder of the noble hero Tölegen., he revived the rebellious spirit of a nation that had long seemed subdued. Each role he inhabited captured the spirit of its time, and his name became synonymous with artistic mastery and unwavering resolve.
Today, Qalam reflects on and honors the extraordinary creative path of this iconic actor.
Asanali’s Prophecy
Asanali Ashimov was not only a patriarch of Kazakh theatre and cinema, a People’s Artist of the USSR (1980), and a Hero of Labour of Kazakhstan (2017), but also a man who lived his life guided by the values and moral principles of his people. Fate elevated him to the pinnacle of fame, making him a model of excellence in national art, yet it also repeatedly tested his strength and resilience.
In 1999, Ashimov faced an unimaginable personal tragedy: within a single year, he lost both of his sons, Madi and Sagi. After Sagi’s death—the young actor renowned for his leading role in Shoqan Walikhanov—Ashimov wrote:
What can one do … Such is life. One must go on living. And although Shoqan left this world at only thirty, his father, Shyngys, lived to ninety. I think it would not be blasphemous to ask God for the same number of years that were granted to him.
“Chokan Valikhanov” (1984). Directed by Asanali Ashimov and Choi Guk In / From open sources
And remarkably, on the threshold of those very ninety years he once asked for, the heart of the great master came to a stop.
Asanali Ashimov set off on his creative trajectory in cinema immediately after graduating from the theatre faculty at the Kazakh National Academy of Arts. From his very first roles in the 1960s, it became clear that a major screen presence had emerged. Within a remarkably short time, he created an entire gallery of vivid and memorable characters: Janai in Yefim Aron’s film On the Wild Banks of the Irtysh (1959), Iskander in Shaken Aimanov’s The Crossroads (1963), and Turar in Mazhit Begalin’s The Tracks Fade Beyond the Horizon (1964).
From 1964 onward, his name never left the playbills of the Mukhtar Auezov Kazakh Drama Theatre, the country’s main stage. Yet his star truly rose thanks to his film roles of the 1970s.
Kasymkhan Shadiyarov
The End of the Ataman (1970)
The screenplay of the film, launched into production at the direct instructions of the Kazakh Republic’s leader Dinmukhamed Kunaev, was explicitly written ‘for Ashimov’. However, a challenge soon arose: the actor was already deeply involved in the filming of Qyz Jibek. The director Shaken Aimanov then told him bluntly:
I’m sure you can handle both roles at the same time. But here’s the problem: Bekejan needs a thick beard, while the chekist [a Soviet state security officer] Shadiyarov must have no distinguishing features at all. You can’t grow stubble in a single day. On the theatre stage, a fake beard will do, but in cinema, we need authenticity.
“The End of the Ataman” (1970). Directed by Shaken Aimanov / From open sources
After this conversation, Ashimov was ready to give up the role of Kasymkhan, but two masters, Sultan-Akhmet Qojykov and Shaken Aimanov, managed to find a compromise. They carefully arranged the shooting schedules so that he could work on both sets. And although filming for Qyz Jibek started earlier, its production ran longer, allowing The End of the Ataman to reach cinemas first. Aimanov would later joke:
And still, I’ll introduce your beard to the public before Sultan does. Later, people will see Bekejan and say, ‘Oh, that’s Shadiyarov’s beard!’
In the end, the image of Shadiyarov, an intelligent, composed, and psychologically resilient chekist who eliminated Ataman DutoviAtaman Dutov was a White Army Cossack commander who fought the Bolsheviks in the Orenburg steppes during the Russian Civil War., became a symbol of a hero to a new generation and cemented Asanali Ashimov’s status as a star on a union-wide scale.
Bekejan
Qyz Jibek (1971)
The role of Bekejan was one Ashimov had dreamed of with all his heart. During the screen tests, he delivered such a flawless performance that Gabit Musrepov, the famous Kazakh writer and playwright, struck by his presence, could not contain his excitement: ‘There he is—the true Bekejan!’ The studio’s artistic council unanimously approved him, yet, unexpectedly, the council’s chairman, Shaken Aimanov, voiced an objection. As we have noted earlier, he had his own plans for Ashimov in The End of the Ataman.
At first, even Sultan-Akhmet Qojykov, the director of Qyz Jibek, treated Asanali coolly: he considered him a ‘careerist’ and felt little desire to invite him into his project. But everything changed during a discussion of the script. It was then that Ashimov remarked:
If Tölegen hadn’t appeared so suddenly, Jibek would have inevitably fallen in love with Bekejan—simply because there was no jighitia skilled and brave horseman, admired for courage and valor. equal to him in strength and presence.
Hearing such a profound interpretation of the character, Qojykov was instantly inspired—and his initial displeasure gave way to approval.
“Kyz-Zhibek” (1971). Directed by Sultan-Akhmet Khodzhikov / Open sources
Ashimov recalled his struggle for the role of Bekejan with particular passion:
When the screenplay of Qyz Jibek was published in the newspaper, the entire country held its breath in anticipation of the film, filled with hope—it was seen as Kazakhfilm’s chance to finally spread its wings. I, too, kept returning to Bekejan in my thoughts. This character always captivated me with his complexity and inner contradictions … And when the heavens heard my prayers, and the authoritative commission recognized that I was worthy of the role, my joy knew no bounds. I couldn’t contain myself—I immediately called home and asked Mayraihis first wife for süyünshia traditional Kazakh gift or token given to share joyful news.
The filming process itself turned into a true acting marathon:
It happened that before lunch I played Bekejan, and immediately afterward—Kasymkhan. You know, after scenes with Bekejan, the role of Shadiyarov somehow came more easily. All I had to do was cool the ardor of the fierce, fire-burning Bekejan a little—and I would instantly fall into the right rhythm and character of Kasymkhan.
Thus, in the span of just one year, Ashimov reached heights that any other actor could only dream of.
Kasymkhan Shadiyarov
The Trans-Siberian Express (1977)
After the resounding success of Qyz Jibek and The End of the Ataman, Ashimov spent several years in a period of creative uncertainty, searching for a role of equal magnitude. He recalled that time with candor:
After completing his great epic The Path of Abai, the late Muqan (Mukhtar Auezov) went through a period of creative emptiness, when his soul wasn’t drawn to anything. Perhaps the comparison is bold, but after Bekejan and Kasymkhan—after reaching my own personal summit—I too went through a difficult period. Offers did come, but honestly, I had no desire to lower the bar I had set with those two films.
“Trans-Siberian Express” (1977). Directed by Eldor Urazbayev / From open sources
It was during this period that along with director Eldor Urazbayev, Ashimov began work on The Trans-Siberian Express, a narrative continuation of The End of the Ataman. In this film, he masterfully transformed himself into three distinct characters: Shadiyarov, Fan, the Chinese illusionist, and the cobbler Erden.
The film, shot on a narrow stretch of railway between Karatau and Zhanatas, won a prize at the All-Union Film Festival in Yerevan in 1978 and later took the Grand Prix at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival. With this achievement, Asanali Ashimov firmly established his reputation as an actor of international stature. He reflected:
I consider chekists to be actors of the highest class. Their resourcefulness and versatility demand immense skill, and these very qualities spiritually enrich the performer who takes on such a role.
Ashimov would later revisit the figure of the chekist in The Manchurian Variant (1989). In Who Are You, Mr. Ka? (2009), he portrayed an aging hero returning to his homeland out of longing, a character comparable in scale to Sultan Baybars.
Director, Role of Shyngys Walihanov
Chokan Valikhanov (1984)
In this multi-part film, Ashimov not only served as director but also played one of the key roles—that of Shyngys Ualihanov. For the role of Shoqan himself, he cast his son, the actor Sagi Ashimov. Sagi later reflected:
My father was an incredibly strict director. Once, after another take, he exclaimed in frustration: ‘I took a risk casting you in the lead role for such a complex production. Apparently, it was in vain!’ and stormed off in anger! I was left alone in the yurt. I couldn’t find a place for myself, and I cried all night because I was hurt and my pride was wounded.
In the morning, I woke to my father shouting, ‘Sagi!’ I was utterly exhausted and hungry, and my eyes were red from crying. At that moment, he commanded, ‘Prepare the set! We’re filming a sick Shoqan!’ To ensure I convincingly portrayed Shoqan’s condition, of suffering from pneumonia, my father made me climb a big hill several times that day. One of the crew members, seeing my drained and anxious face, even remarked in surprise, ‘Aseke, is that really your son?’
At the time, I was deeply offended by him. But after the first screening, when crowds of viewers came up to congratulate me, I realized that ninety percent of my success was thanks to my father.
“Chokan Valikhanov” (1984). Directed by Asanali Ashimov and Choi Guk In / From open sources
Sagi, acknowledging that ‘all the most successful moments in the film are the fruits of my father’s labor’, recalled how the director masterfully infused the narrative with meaningful details. For example, in the scene where Shoqan meets Shyngys in the steppe, his father breaks the handle of a kamchai A kamcha is a traditional short whip used across Central Asia, primarily for horse riding, herding livestock, and as a symbolic element of nomadic culture. on the saddle bow. Or in the episode of Shoqan’s return to his native auliThe word aul means ‘village’ in Kazakh, and typically encompasses 100–200 yurts., his mother offers him a bowl of kumis, saying, ‘First greet your grandmother,’ while she instructs, ‘Greet the people first, and only then go to your father and mother.’
As a director, Ashimov always sought such expressive touches that revealed the very essence of the national character.
In addition to this monumental work, Ashimov also directed Year of the Dragon (1981, together with Choi Guk In) and Qozy Körpesh–Bayan Sulu (1995).
Chinggis Khan
The Saga of the Ancient Bulgars (Unfinished Project)
The director Bulat Mansurov passed away in 2011, leaving a very ambitious historical project, The Saga of the Ancient Bulgars, unfinished. The master, who had filmed the legendary Sultan Baybars for Kazakhfilm in 1989, devoted his new work to the history of the Tatar people. In this Russian production, Ashimov took on the monumental role of Chinggis Khan. Filming took place in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, and the project was initially conceived as a two-part series but later expanded to six episodes. Unfortunately, the epic remained incomplete.
Asanali Ashimov / From open sources
Ashimov’s granddaughter Nurila, the daughter of his eldest son, Madi, also appeared in the film, portraying Chinggis Khan’s daughter. He recalled this in his book Mayranın Äni (Mayra’s Song):
In Bulat Mansurov’s film The Saga of the Bulgars, I was cast as Chinggis Khan. That same year, when Madi passed away, Mansurov brought Nurila along and jokingly said, ‘I’m entrusting you with another actress.’ That’s how we took her with us. The role of Chinggis Khan’s daughter was initially meant for Mansurov’s own daughter, but she arrived at the shoot late. Nurila was first used as a stand-in, and later they cast her as the younger daughter.
Seeing how much she had grown, I couldn’t hold back my tears right there on set. We began filming in Merke, then moved to Issyk-Kul. I was deeply impressed by her intuition, talent, and the care she showed with the costumes. She delivered her role flawlessly. Every penny of her first earnings went to her parents—and we all rejoiced sincerely, from the heart.
Yet it seemed that God thought this happiness was too great: soon after, Madi passed away … Now Nurila has decided not to pursue acting, is preparing for another institute, and is studying English. It has already been ten months since Madi’s passing and fifteen days since Sagi’s. They now rest side by side, two small mounds. What a strong spirit you had, Mayra—in the end, you took them to yourself …
A Titan of the Theatrical Stage
In total, Asanali Ashimov’s filmography comprises about fifty films. On the stage of the Mukhtar Auezov Drama Theatre, Ashimov brought some of the most challenging roles in the classical repertoire to life. He began with passionate young men in national dramas—Aidar, Kebek, and Kozy—and remained a leading actor even during the era of Azerbaijani director Mambetov, rightly regarded as the theatre’s ‘golden age’.
In Mambetov’s productions, Ashimov created truly iconic characters: Don Juan in Max Frisch’s Don Juan, or Love of Geometry; Elaman in Blood and Sweat by Abdizhamil Nurpeisov; Kodar in Qozy Körpesh–Bayan Sulu; and Syrim in The Covenant to the Future by Gabit Musrepov. Each performance became a cultural phenomenon, marked by his unmistakable artistic signature.
Asanali Ashimov / From open sources
Ashimov realized his talents not only as an actor but also as a director. He staged around ten productions, including Nikolai Gogol’s The Government Inspector (1979), in which he brilliantly played the mayor; Amangeldi by Gabit Musrepov (1986); Is There a Poison I Haven’t Drunk? by Iranbek Orazbayev (1987); and Akbilek by Zhusipbek Aymauytov (1989).
A true milestone during the years of independence was the production of Gerhart Hauptmann’s Before Sunset, brought to life by director Ruben Andriasyan with exceptional depth and subtlety. Originally, Andriasyan had invited Ashimov to the Russian Drama Theatre for the role of King Lear; however, remaining loyal to his home stage, Ashimov suggested moving the collaboration to the Kazakh theatre and chose Hauptmann’s play for the project. In his memoirs, he recalled:
We worked on Before Sunset for a long time—from February to October 2002. There hadn’t been such extended rehearsals at the Auezov Theatre since the days of Azerbaijani Mambetov.
The effort was more than rewarded: the production came alive in every sense and remained on the playbills for years. It became one of those performances that audiences came to see specifically—‘for Ashimov’.
Every role Ashimov undertook had a profound impact on the development of modern Kazakh theatre. He was far more than an actor or director; he was a monumental figure, a person of immense presence, who became a wise mentor and a spiritual guide for generations of artists.
This account draws on recollections from A. Ashimov’s books Zhan Bölek (My Spirit—Another) and Mayranın Äni (Mayra’s Song).
