'Focus on Indonesia' at SIFF

'Focus on Indonesia' at SIFF

By Rayya Makarim

SINGAPROE (JP): With a selection of 300 movies, the just-
finished Singapore International Film Festival (SIFF) was
generous in providing a segment titled "Focus on Indonesia".
Among the masters Eisenstein, Chabrol and Herzog, there was also
a retrospective on Arifin C. Noer. Besides workshops and seminars
conducted by acclaimed directors Eric Khoo of Singapore,
Germany's Doris Dvrrie and Australia's Peter Weir, the festival
provided our own multiple award-winning director a large chunk of
stage time, such that one could easily mistake the segment for a
"Focus on Garin Nugroho".

After watching four films chosen at random from Korea,
Australia, Japan and the Netherlands, it is clear that Indonesian
films have a long way to go. According to Philip Cheah, director
of the festival, "In the Southeast Asian context, Indonesian
films are braver." Sure ... but are they better?

On a technical level, Indonesian films are well on the way,
but plot-wise, well, that's another story. Simplicity seems to be
the key word here. Korean Chang Yoon-hyun's The Contact is a
romantic comedy about two people who meet over an Internet chat
line, carrying painful memories of failed relationships. The
Australian film, Dance Me to My song, directed by Rolf de Heer
tells the story of Julia who has cerebral palsy, and her
relationship with her career Madelaine, who torments her daily
with mental abuse. Hiroshi Shimizu's Ikinai is a typically
Japanese black comedy about how a young woman accidentally joins
up with a bus tour. The 12 other passengers are heavily in debt
and have cooked up a scheme to embark on a suicide trip.
Felice ... Felice by Dutch director Peter Delpeut is the best of
the four, and by far the simplest. It is a story about a Dutch
photographer who returns to Japan in search of his Japanese wife,
whom he left years ago.

There is nothing complex about any of these films but each had
something to say. Each had a clear, straightforward story -- a
skill Indonesian filmmakers struggle to achieve. Kuldesak and
Daun Di Atas Bantal (A Leaf on A Pillow) were released in the
last year. The former showed that we have hopes to move on to
bigger and better projects, the latter was a vast improvement in
narrative compared to the director's previous films. But what is
the future of Indonesian films? What types of films are being
made by Indonesian film students?

As part of the "Focus on Indonesia", SIFF screened five short
films by students from the Jakarta Institute of the Arts. Nanang
Istiabudi's Revolution of Hope is a parody of power and violence.
The film portrays a bunch of hoodlums dressed as a clown, a baby,
a skater, a punk rocker and a detective. Their everyday activity
is kidnapping and torturing any outspoken member of society.
Expecting to see actual kidnappings, instead the audience becomes
involved in a highly choreographed demonstration of perverse
violence. These scenes are repeated a few times, with different
victims of course. Why? "To show violence as it is, and for the
audience to get used to it," explains the director. Well, with
such grotesque acts of brutality, one scene is surely enough.
Thanks, but we get the point. Subtlety is clearly not part of
this director's cinematic form. Without Nanangs's explanation the
audience would surely still be baffled about what the film was
trying to express.

There was also Novi, directed by Asep Kusdinar, which tells
the story of a transvestite who falls victim to prejudice. The
camera work is more explorative in this piece, compared to
Nanang's film, but again, the same problem of narrative surfaces.
If the story focused more on the relationship between Novi and
his/her father instead of exploiting the "abnormal" behavior of a
transvestite, the film would possess more depth, and, as a
result, would have been a lot more engaging.

Lono Abdul Hamid's Bawa Aku Terbang (Up Where You Fly) is a
tale about an 11-year-old boy who has a relationship problem with
his father, a pedicab driver with a coarse and authoritarian
manner. The boy's only comfort are his birds and their care.
Again, the dialogue is sparse, although the narrative structure
is clearer than the previous films.

More interesting were two shorts: Ari Ibnuhajar's Jakarta 468
and Eric Gunawan's Sebuah Lagu (A Song). Jakarta 468 is a
documentary-style film about the modern metropolis Jakarta, and
how a man tries to maintain his sense of self in a city that
offers uniformity. This might be the only film in which its
director knew exactly what he wanted to say -- probably made
easier by the documentary style and the use of narration. Sebuah
Lagu centers on Surya who has communication problems with his
grandfather, whom he cares for. Obscure images and traces of
exoticism were present throughout the film. Cinematographer
Winalda filmed with exquisite care, creating beautiful shots that
complimented the slow pace and contemplative mood of the story.
This short had a lot of potential; a better script would have
improved it immensely.

Indonesia has a strong oral tradition. Telling stories is a
big part of the culture, and yet this has not found its way into
local films. The film world here remains dominated by an
unrelenting obsession to create technological extravaganzas --
hey, we have Hollywood to do that. There does not seem to be
enough patience or care to create simple stories. Moreover,
people forget that one makes a film to tell a story, not to
record beautiful postcards of isolated incidents that say
nothing.

Eric Gunawan confirms the absence of narrative in local films.
He also realizes that Sebuah Lagu may have been too subtle.
Nevertheless, he pointed out the difficulties may have something
to do with an incapability to express oneself. "Young people in
Indonesia do not read and do not speak English," says Eric as he
rushes off to Boarders Bookstore -- there is hope, yet.