Morality and comedy meet in traditional Javanese play

By Achmad Nurhoeri

JAKARTA (JP): What comes to your mind if your neighborhood doctor, your average motorcycle salesman, the local police chief, the local military officer and your regent are jumbled together in one arena? A community meeting? A flag ceremony? A political campaign? A funeral?

None of those events is the correct answer, if you saw them at the Bentara Budaya Art Center here Saturday night, Dec. 21. So, what were they doing there? Believe it or not, they presented a satirical play titled Pak Pokil (Mr. Greedy). The common people of Delanggu, a small regency in Central Java known only for its sack factory, turned the prestigious art center into a village celebration and enthralled the 300 plus Jakarta audience, who could never imagine the actors' real jobs.

The show was a traditional ketoprak play. The story was the typical black-and-white good versus evil tale. The atmosphere was amusingly Javanese -- complete with traditional Javanese clothing, Javanese stage props, a Javanese gamelan orchestra and Javanese language. Even the anecdotes were presented in Javanese flavor, witty, tricky and subtle. They depicted the Javanese philosophy of Njiwit ora lara, or pinching without hurting.

The plot was about big brother Sastro (played by talented motorcycle dealer Hussein Sastranegara) whose nickname is Pak Pokil, and his little brother, Pak Tulus (Mr. Sincere), who was played adequately by Edi Sulistyanto (whose real-life profession is selling garments).

Pak Pokil really lives up to his reputation. He is the richest guy in the village, with a hobby of counting money to the penny. One day, he and his brother try to divide their parents' inheritance. With his cunning tricks and slick mouth, he manages to get all of the inheritance. Pak Tulus, who portrays the ideal Java man, just nods with disbelief. But fortunately, Pak Tulus gets the family's sanctified Javanese dagger, the kris of Segoro Muncar.

The dagger turns out to have a glorified history. It is believed the dagger was once the weapon of Pangeran Diponegoro, Javanese prince and hero in the colonial era. And a lot of people, including the mayor, crave it.

In between the acts, a couple of jesters take the stage with humorous songs jammed with spicy jeers toward the flaws of society. Every political case seems to be on the hit list. They bang members of the House of Representatives, whose daily routine is rubber-stamping and echoing the word "agree". They make jokes about a minister's bank account, the Indonesian Democratic Party mess and even about the comical homicide solving in the case of Udin (a murdered journalist in Yogyakarta). Chuckles and laughter quickly became prevalent.

Meanwhile in the next act, Pak Tulus' son, Mancung (played by Suprapto) and Pak Pokil's Pacak are in a messy encounter of their own. Mancung is dating Maesaroh, a Jakarta girl, who actually is also on Pacak's target list. Pacak and his rowdies then beat the hell out of Mancung, who fortunately is rescued by a couple of local comedians.

Mancung's bruises need medical treatment, but tragically, Pak Tulus is penniless. So he tries to ask his corrupt brother to be responsible for Pacak's misdemeanor. Pak Pokil says snobbishly, "Legally I'm his father. But actually, I did not take part in the bashing. So I do not have any obligation whatsoever."

Desperately, Pak Tulus begs for a loan, but Pak Pokil is unmoved by his plea. Pak Tulus hopelessly tries to pound his kris. He is willing to take any amount of money Pak Pokil gives. But his brother is just too penny-pinching. He even locks his door so Pak Tulus can not bother him any more. Fortunately, Pak Pokil's wife becomes his brother-in-law's lifesaver by secretively giving some money to Pak Tulus.

Not long after Pak Tulus leaves the house, someone tells Pak Pokil that the dagger is being pursued by serious purchasers. The dagger was even slapped with a Rp 2 million (US$775) price tag. Pak Pokil's eyes just pop and his nose is tickled by the smell of money. He attempts to get his brother's dagger, no matter what the cost. He then goes to his brother's house armed with itsy bitsy items like toothpaste, bicycle spare parts and skin lotion.

He puts on a phony regretful face, presents the small items and asks for Pak Tulus' forgiveness. He begs his brother to give the dagger. But Pak Tulus replies firmly. "This dagger is not for sale!." Pak Pokil tries to threaten his brother by saying that the dagger is his right and even if Pak Tulus sues him, he will win anyway in Supreme Court. Pak Tulus maintains his stance. Pak Pokil leaves furiously, taking back the useless items he just gave.

Pak Tulus then devises a plan that will teach his selfish brother a lesson. He agrees to give the dagger to Pak Pokil. In return, he asks Pak Pokil to give him half of the family's farm and land that he (Pak Pokil) had previously was seized. Pak Pokil, blinded by greed, accepts the offer and signs the pact.

Pak Pokil feels like he is on top of the world when the mayor comes to pay him a visit and to search for the historic dagger. The mayor offers him a huge amount of money, but Pak Pokil refuses. He overconfidently thinks that he can hike the price. But the village chief (played by the village doctor), who is accompanying the mayor, tells him to check out the dagger first. But are they dumbfounded. The dagger's condition is far below everyone's expectations. It is a broken dagger, worth nothing.

The ketoprak play actually is a Javanese version of Broadway. It is a mixture of a simple comical plot, traditional musical tunes, funny songs and anecdotes. It generally uses the Javanese language, but modern ones like Pak Pokil frequently mix the language with some Indonesian phrases, and even foreign words. The first ketoprak play was staged in 1898 as a form of entertainment created by Raden Kanjeng Tumenggung Wreksadiningrat, a mayor of a remote small town in central Java, to console his dying citizens when the plague came.

The actors who performed in Saturday night's show actually are members of the Association of Solo and Delanggu Merchants. Most of them are Chinese traders who try to be part of the Javanese environment by providing entertainment to the locals. This was their second time on a real stage. The first was staged in Solo (Surakarta) two years ago. Both plays were directed by Bondan Nusantara, who four years ago staged a ketoprak show at Bentara Budaya with common army troops as the actors.