Cinematic negotiation of dead ends in 'Kuldesak'

By Tam Notosusanto

JAKARTA (JP): Watching Kuldesak, we are reminded of those other cinematic collaborative efforts like New York Stories by Hollywood masters Francis Ford Coppola, Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese, or the more recently released Four Rooms by U.S. independent film kings Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, Allison Anders and Alexandre Rockwell.

But the comparison ends as far as form goes. Like the films mentioned above, Kuldesak gives you several different stories, made by several different directors, for the admission price of one. Nevertheless, this film has its own strengths, as well as weaknesses, that give it a distinctive edge.

Writers/directors Mira Lesmana, Nan T. Achnas, Riri Riza and Rizal Mantovani will insist that their film is really one whole film, as opposed to a bunch of segmented pieces. To some extent, they are right. Their choice of allowing film editor Sentot Sahid to intersperse the stories with each other does give it a quite unified look: a look at the semi-bleak lives of some young residents of Jakarta.

With the two aforesaid movies, we go into a story at a time and get done with it before going on to the next one. With Kuldesak, we get quick peeks into four different chambers at about the same time and go back to each one time and time again.

But no matter how neat Sentot's editing tied up the whole package, it cannot escape the fact that Kuldesak (an unofficial Indonesian cognate of cul-de-sac) is really four different films put together into a string. It is one body holding four personalities which belong to the diverse style and vision of the four directors, who approached their material with varied attitude and levels of aptitude.

Mira Lesmana presents the character Aksan (Wong Aksan), who probably speaks for aspiring filmmakers everywhere when he whines: "I've got to make a film soon, if I don't, I'm gonna die!" To finance his film, Aksan decides to steal some money from a safe-deposit box in the laser disc store belonging to his wealthy, penurious father. When he and Aladin (Tio Pakusadewo) -- an employee of his dad's -- are about to do it, they collide with a gang of incompetent crooks (Sophia Latjuba, Maya Lubis, Bucek Depp) also out to rob the store.

Mira's constant collaborator, Riri Riza, has a more contemplative piece, in a much darker and more elegiac way. His antihero is Andre (Ryan Hidayat), a lonely young musician who spends his time lying around his house smoking and reflecting, or going to night clubs partying, basically going nowhere.

"In this place," his voice-over tells us as Andre ventures into a crowded club, "all of us together celebrate loneliness."

However, a derelict/fortune-teller friend of his (Iwa K) tells Andre his life is about to change. Andre begins to see it for himself when he receives a mysterious gift and learns of the tragic demise of his favorite rock star.

Nan T. Achnas injects a more upbeat tone with her story of Dina (Oppie Andaresta), a movie house ticket booth attendant whose life is filled with her endearing relationship with her two gay neighbors, Budi and Yanto (Harry Suharyadi and Gala Rostamaji), and her infatuation with a TV show host, Max Molo (Dick Doank). It's a bittersweet tale of hope, friendship, heartbreaks and survival.

Meanwhile, Rizal Mantovani delivers a nightmarish spectacle of Lina (Bianca Adinegoro), an advertising company employee who is raped by gangsters sent by her perverted boss (Torro Margens). She falls down, only to get up again and fight back.

Most of the young people featured in Kuldesak have a resemblance to each other (save for Nan's blue-collar characters): they are well-to-do, yet they are unhappy. Even the two male leads (Aksan and Andre), with their long hair and goattee, look way too similar. All of the film's characters have problems and they all meet a dead end. Now all they have to do is find a way around the cul-de-sac, or somehow go through it.

It's up to the filmmakers to reply to this great premise they themselves set, and some of them falter in the attempt.

Mira's piece has a problem in suggesting a way out for Aksan. Here is a young guy who has been obsessed with films all his life. All he wants to do is make a darn movie, and he does not have the funding to do it. Well, we can relate to that. The four directors must have been through that some time in their lives. But Aksan resorts to stealing, far from anything aspiring filmmakers do to realize their dreams.

It is further damaged by Wong Aksan's uninspired, anemic performance. However, this segment is still enjoyable thanks to Tio's lively, funny sidekick. Mira's piece is clearly Tarantinoesque, without the Tarantino wit.

Rizal's piece is even weaker. Although bolstered by the dazzling camera work and fast-editing style inherited from his years making music videos, he should have worked more on his script. He actually has a great David and Goliath setup with his petite heroine fighting back against the raspy ogre of her boss, which may have worked as an allegory of the little people vs. the evil corporations. But Rizal takes his piece too seriously, coming up with a bland, soulless showcase when he could have made an entertaining black comedy out of it.

Riri's work brings us closer to planet Earth, although not quite. His Andre effectively displays the pains of solitude, delivered nicely by Ryan Hidayat's subdued acting. It's a lyrical piece that hits home by the coincidental fact that Ryan died an untimely death only a year after the film wrapped.

Riri is only troubled by his and cowriter Adi M. Nugroho's apparent penchant for the bizarre. The outlandish Hariolus -- badly acted by Iwa K -- is a befuddling figure.

Nan's piece works best. Hers is a much sunnier, evocative piece that is minimal in action but rich in contemplation. It deals with sadness, joy and a whole range of emotions without too much pretense. Nan is only interested in photographing human beings as they are. She is helped by a marvelous cast, particularly Oppie and Harry. It deserves to be made into a feature-length movie of its own.

Unlike the characters in Kuldesak, these four filmmakers have found their way around their blind alley. With the help of a gracious cast and crew -- who were willing to work without pay -- and other generous people who helped the financing, they have managed to get their movie done, and get it shown in the local theaters. An extraordinary feat, indeed. But this is not the end of the road. They have to return to the theaters with more solid, poignant work. Kuldesak is one triumph against the odds, but it's definitely not the ultimate one.