'Invitation to a Wedding' tells of Islam in Indonesia

By Dewi Anggraeni

MELBOURNE (JP): If the title of the latest film from Olsen- Levy Productions, "Invitation to a Wedding", conjures any images in your mind; splashes of bright colors, loud music, traditional nuptial ceremonies; all components in a traditional Indonesian wedding, as ubiquitous as durians in season in street stalls, you are only partially right.

Invitation to a Wedding is a 60-minute documentary concerning Islam in Indonesia. Unlike Olsen-Levy's earlier documentary on Indonesia's historical development, aptly named Riding the Tiger, Invitation to a Wedding is much lighter in overall tone.

It is, nonetheless, not all lightness and merriment throughout. Instead, it weaves in and out of playfulness and seriousness, sometimes in an almost seamless manner. At times, when the dialog begins to ponder, the focus shifts back to the realm of legerete, aided by local music and humor.

The narration, by the director Curtis Levy, often reveals a contraction of cross-cultural clashes, and forms a fusion that can only be seen as unintentional; yet this contraction colors the background very effectively.

The film opens with the film crew desperately phoning around for someone to repair their camera, while Abdurrachman Wahid is waiting in the lobby with his entourage. Gus Dur, as he is better known, is the leader of a 30-million strong Moslem organization in Indonesia.

It's like keeping the Pope waiting, narrates Levy. The laconic Australian voice seems incongruous with the seriousness of the message. And, as the viewer watches, the scene becomes more absurd. Gus Dur, unfazed, agrees to another meeting the following day, then rises to leave, followed by his staff.

They enter a lift, but behold, the lift doors of the international hotel won't shut! They disembark, with Levy, visibly stressed, trying desperately to make light of the situation.

But he is immediately eclipsed by Gus Dur, who relates his experience of what seems to be a series of inexplicable accidents. He says that as a rational being, he wants to believe these accidents are explainable. Levy, says, "I always think there's no such thing as an accident." To a native English speaker, this can mean the justifications we place on our carelessness and negligence.

The significance of the statement is lost on Gus Dur, who replies, "Oh, then you no longer are a Westerner."

This early misunderstanding symbolically pulls the curtains open for Levy, the outsider to this religion, bringing him a step further into the lives and psyches of Indonesian Moslems, attempting to understand them better. He is lucky to have two very prominent personalities, Abdurrachman Wahid and Emha Ainun Najib, as "guides" in his journey of discovery.

While Gus Dur sheds light on some political issues, Emha provides answers to questions of a social nature, in his typical poetic manner. Gus Dur's no-nonsense way of answering Levy's questions may surprise viewers, under the impression that an Indonesian religious leader, and a Javanese at that, would be somewhat enigmatic and inscrutable.

In his reply to Levy's queries, regarding his concern at being seen as a political threat, Gus Dur says, "No, I am the best weapon the government has against fundamentalism."

When asked if ordinary people in Indonesia know who owns what around them, Gus Dur tells an anecdote about a taxi ride he and his staff had in Sumatra. "The taxi driver didn't know who we were, yet he babbled on about who owned this estate and that estate. They know." Levy then queries, "Does that make them angry or disillusioned?" "No ... ," Gus Dur answers, "... not angry or disillusioned. But aware."

Compared to Gus Dur, Emha is positively enigmatic, throwing Levy off balance as the charismatic poet engages in a lightly polemical exchange with the narrator, concerning what it means to be a Moslem in Indonesia.

But he also leads Levy's journey to a locality beyond the awareness of most viewers outside Indonesia, Kedung Ombo -- after the damming of the water supply. Probably it's the same case for many onlookers from within Indonesia as well.

When the camera focuses on the cracked earth, the poignant moments can bring tears to eyes that have#seen events lead to the present state of affairs. Emha takes the film crew to meet members of the displaced community, who express openly their displeasure. Here, another characteristic of the Indonesian Moslem is highlighted -- their close relationship with the land, and their mellowness at the sense of betrayal perpetrated by the authorities.

"When things go wrong, don't blame Islam," says Emha. "Islam is only information; it is people, meaning you and I, who are responsible. In God's eyes we are the highest beings."

What became apparent while watching Invitation to a Wedding, is perhaps that Indonesians, Moslems and others, function more at an intuitive level, while Levy, the paradigmatic westerner, works mostly at an intellectual level. His direct, and probing questioning sometimes creates tension between his production manager, Fachry Amrullah, and himself.

Levy is intrigued, for instance, at Fachry's explanation regarding religious concessions allowed to certain people. Levy appears less than satisfied when Fachry tells him three prayers a day are acceptable in certain circumstances. "It sounds like cheating to me," he says.

Yet, like many westerners driven by faith, Levy tries to include his viewers in following into the realms of Indonesian Islam, led by Gus Dur, Emha and Fachry. A symbolic merger of Levy's and Fachry's voices, singing a popular Indonesian song closes the film.

Not only is this documentary a must for foreigners interested in aspects of Indonesian life, it is also a useful mirror for Indonesian to see their lives reflected in someone else's perceptions. Copies should be made available at Australian embassy library in Jakarta.