Marselli's 'Sri': A glimpse of the modern Javanese woman
Marselli's 'Sri': A glimpse of the modern Javanese woman
By Rayya Makarim
JAKARTA (JP): During the production of his first feature film,
Marselli Sumarno suggested an artistic wave on a grand scale.
Since then Indonesian cinema has enjoyed a moment of glory
when films made by local directors made the unusual feat of
reaching the screens of the 21 chain of movie theaters. Garin
Nugroho's Daun di atas Bantal (Leaf on a Pillow) was followed by
the 4-in-1 movie Kuldesak (jointly directed by Mira Lesmana, Nan
T. Achnas, Riri Riza and Rizal Mantovani). Set to join them is
Marselli's long-awaited Sri that will finally hit local theaters
this week.
The film tells the story of Sri (Rina Ariyanti), a village
girl who is married to Hendro (R.M.T. Rono Suripto), a 70-year-
old Javanese aristocrat. Sri's role is to save her husband from
the claws of death through negotiations with Yamadipati (Sardono
W. Kusumo), the god of death. Her reasons are that Hendro still
has debts unpaid. First, he must seek forgiveness from his first
wife (Niniek L. Karim) for the wrong he has done her. Secondly,
he must return an inherited kris that he clearly does not
deserve. And finally, he must pay his respects to his spiritual
mentor. Miraculously, through wit and seduction, Sri manages to
make a pact with Yamadipati and delay Hendro's death.
Marselli's film is deeply embedded within the Javanese
culture. Set in a traditional house in Surakarta, we are
immediately reminded of the still prominent Javanese courts. The
slow pace of the film reflects the lifestyle commonly associated
with what exists behind the keraton (palace) walls.
The film is mostly static, displaying 102 minutes of medium
shots, without any unusual camera angles. The shots seem hesitant
in becoming intimate with the screen characters, as if they are
afraid of revealing more than what is required. Thus, even the
camera that is a product of industrial technology must surrender
and adjust itself to the restrained rhythm of Javanese life.
The mood presented in Sri is one of serenity and quiet
contemplation. Although you may not be part of the culture, there
is a familiarity that sedates you, a sense of nostalgia that
keeps you interested. Shots of elderly batik workers coming to
the house to work are some of the endearing scenes. In addition,
the inclusion of conversations between the old servant providing
words of wisdom to the young servant, who is full of naive
curiosity, is an important perspective.
There are, however, a number of repetitive scenes. It is not
clear whether the director did this to illustrate the ordinary
rote of day-to-day activity or that he merely was lacking in film
stock. We could definitely have done with fewer scenes of Sri
sitting at Hendro's feet while covering him with a blanket.
Likewise, the numerous zoom-ins of photographs are some examples
of less motivated scenes that neither add new information to the
story nor offer any kind of symbolic significance.
The acting is fair. The small roles of the servants, batik
workers, messengers and dukun (soothsayers) are examples of
brilliant casting. Nevertheless, the larger roles, with the
exception of Hendro and the first wife, prove to be less
convincing.
Marselli, who also wrote the screenplay for Sri, intended to
sculpt an identity of the unassuming yet power-conscious and
calmly restrained version of today's Indonesian woman. "It is a
story of every modern Javanese woman," said the first-time
director. However, Sri, as portrayed by Rina Ariyanti, lacks the
ambition and power that is required of her. Instead, we are
supplied with a more pathetic version that is not comfortable
with her position as head of the household.
More crucial, and probably the most puzzling part of the film,
is the characterization of Yamadipati. Do not expect the god of
death to be as intense, serious and graceful as you would expect
Sardono to be in any one of his masterly crafted dance
performances. Like the master in Zhang Yimou's Raise The Red
Lantern, one who possesses so much power needs to be felt, but
not necessarily seen. In Sri, however, the camera loves Sardono,
giving him ample screen time to exploit almost all the theatrical
gestures he can think of. There is a small suspicion that
Sardono's animated performance is a way to break the monotony of
the film. He is bold, but less than what we expected.
Besides the drawn-out scenes, the lack of good acting and the
rather unremarkable camerawork, Sri rates number one in terms of
story. When so many Indonesian films are lacking in good
screenplays and focused plots, Marselli manages to maintain the
spine of his. The solid storyline keeps the film from
disintegrating into what could have become a disjointed, boring
film. Fortunately, never once does Marselli deviate from the main
plot, and never once is he tempted to stray from the gracefulness
of sheer simplicity.