'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.