Indonesians find escape in booming soap opera industry
Indonesians find escape in booming soap opera industry
By Chris Brummitt
JAKARTA (AP): I had been murdered, but nobody thought to tell
me.
I only found out when I tuned into Episode 2 of The Curtain of
Love and saw the actress playing my girlfriend in the arms of her
new lover, telling him: "James is dead. He is not coming back."
Six months earlier, the producer had spotted me in a Jakarta
coffee shop and offered me the part of James, a British
businessman. I had gotten off to a promising start in the first
episode, taking romantic walks on the beach and discussing deals
with local investors. But for reasons never revealed to me, the
writers changed their minds and had James killed off-camera by a
business rival.
Oh, well, such is life in the world of Indonesian soap opera,
where sudden disappearances, unbelievable twists and gaping plot
holes are routine, and a 29-year-old reporter can quickly find
himself back at his day job.
Dozens of soap operas, known locally as sinetron, pack prime-
time schedules and top ratings across the country's five national
TV stations.
The most successful soaps feature wealthy urbanites who drive
luxury cars, dress trendy and live in mansions. The plots revolve
around romantic love, family tragedies and the pursuit of
success.
It's an irresistible formula to the millions of Indonesians
who live in poverty, now compounded by political chaos and street
violence as the world's fourth-most populous nation struggles
from dictatorship to democracy.
The soaps offer something for everyone. Indonesians love the
supernatural, so there are plenty of dramas featuring snakes that
can turn into people and people who can fly. The country's 210
million people are also predominantly Muslim, so during the
fasting month of Ramadhan, TV drama turns to religious themes to
dull viewers' hunger pangs.
And still it's not enough. More soap operas are imported from
Latin America, and thousands of fans flock to the airport to
greet the stars from Venezuela or Peru arriving on promotional
trips.
Pearson Television, the Britain-based multinational giant that
makes Baywatch and the Australian Neighbors, has built a studio
in Jakarta and is set to start shooting a daily half-hour drama
this year.
The basic plot of Dua Dunia, or "Two Worlds," is a standard
one the company uses in soap operas in other countries, with
adjustments for cultural differences, said the show's supervising
producer Peter Pinney. It worked in Hungary, so why not
Indonesia?
"Indonesia has great potential and we are here for the long
run," Pinney said.
Indonesia's own soap king is Raam Punjabi, who runs a
factorylike five-story production house round the clock. Here,
harried film editors hunch over screens, cutting shows that
sometimes are just hours away from being aired. Dozens of wannabe
stars crowd the lobby, waiting for an audition.
Punjabi has 12 shows running at the moment and estimates his
regular total audience at 60 million. Some of his shows are
exported to neighboring Malaysia and Singapore.
The rise of soap operas has coincided with the near-death of
Indonesia's theatrical film industry. In 1990, it produced 115
movies. Last year, only three reached theaters.
But for the film industry, these are boom times.
"Now it is harvest time every week," Pong Hardjatmo, a
58-year-old former star of the big screen, said during a break in
shooting of a new soap opera in a plush Jakarta home. "For the
actors it's the same thing. We are earning money."
Stars are coy about saying how much they make, but industry
insiders say the top ones get about US$2,000 an episode -- a
fortune in a country where many people earn less than a dollar a
day.
Punjabi has no qualms about supplying escapism, and scoffs at
suggestions that his dramas should reflect real Indonesian life.
"I know that my viewers are middle- to lower-class," he said.
"But I can't use their problems as story ideas. It would only
depress them."