Krabi 2562

Krabi 2562 Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

Why Watch Krabi 2562?

  • If you’re a fan of films built around a medley of scenes that segue between narrative and fiction
  • To jump between past, ancient past, and present day Krabi
  • For a subtle critique of the changing region
From: Thailand, Asia
Watch: Trailer, IMDb
Next: Mysterious Object at Noon, Mimosas, Android's Dream

A Political Opening

Krabi 2562 opens with a shot of a school assembly outdoors (see picture above). The students chant the national anthem, and salute the national religion (Buddhism) and the monarchy that rules ‘for the happiness of the people.’ It feels a bit dystopian, but this indoctrinated patriotism is pretty common throughout the world (even American school kids sing a bunch of patriotic songs in elementary school). After the singing stops, the camera cuts to an image of two plastic sheep. It’s a juxtaposition that symbolizes the blind patriotism of the kids and teachers.

I expected the film to contain more of a political message after the political jab in the opening. I also embarrassingly thought it would portray a dystopian future due to my ignorance that the date is in fact taken from the Buddhist calendar instead of the Gregorian one we’re familiar with; 2652 = 2019. Instead, Krabi 2562 is built around a series of clips of life in the region from interviews to deadpan narratives. There’s no main characters, not much of a continuous narrative, and it’s not a documentary either. In this sense, the style reminded me a bit of another Thai film, Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Mysterious Object at Noon, and a bit of Andrea Bussman’s Fausto, two more films that weave together a mix of footage to create a feeling of story.

Time Traveling

Instead of following a particular character, the film hops between different scenes: some which seem real; and others that seem fictional. Seen together, they create a sense of the feeling of life in Krabi and how it’s changing. Some scenes, such as the interview with the boxer reminiscing on his past life, and the lady following in her parent’s footsteps, evoke a recent past. Other scenes, those that feature the ancient myths told by the Thai guide, and those that feature a pair of cavemen, evoke the ancient past. Whilst the contemporary present is represented by the tourists (foreign and domestic) visiting the region, and the advertising crew using the region’s natural beauty for an ad shoot. Whilst it doesn’t explicitly shout out that the region is taking a bad direction from past to present, it does show that local culture is being marginalized. The cavemen, boxer, and native crew member have been pushed aside (the native crew member literally disappears); the wildlife have turned into statues in a zoo inspected by people in Hazmat suits; and the myths and landscape have been converted into tourist draws. It’s as if the region is being ‘sanitized’ to cater to tourists and the outside world.

However, one thing that is lasting is the areas beautiful landscape. It still looks like the same place that the cavemen inhabited. It existed before stories. Despite the incursions of the outer world, the quiet soundtrack, populated mostly by the natural sounds of birds and cicadas, seems to hint that nature is also still in control. Whilst the people of Krabi can be pushed aside and marginalized, and the animals frozen in time, the beautiful landscapes’ immutability will continue to draw life to the region be it native or foreign.

What to Watch Next

If you want to watch more films built around a medley of scenes that segue between narrative and fiction, check out Andrea Bussman’s Fausto and Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Mysterious Object at Noon.

Or if you want to watch another film whose narrative seamlessly jumps between the past and present, I strongly recommend watching Oliver Laxe’s Mimosas. (On a side note, Oliver Laxe actually makes a cameo in Krabi 2562 as the ad commercial director). You could also watch The Last of Us, another intriguing film which follows an African migrant that gets stuck with a modern day caveman in the wild, preventing him from reaching his European dream.

Finally, if you wanted to watch a slow, experimental sci-fi set in a touristic region (as I thought this film was going to be), check out Ion de Sosa’s Androids Dream, set in the Spanish beach resort town of Benindorm in the off-season.

In Land of Ashes, thirteen year old Selva lives in a small costal town surrounded by sea and dense forest. Her mother has passed away, so she shares the duties of looking after her frail old grandfather with Elena, an older woman who comes and goes as she wishes.

Elena is the only female role model that Selva has, but their relationship is a strange one. Selva obviously needs her for companionship and help navigating her path to adulthood, but she also despises her. She spits in her food and trades vicious insults with her over the dinner table which eventually unravels into laughs thanks to her grandfather. Later, Elena invites her dancing, but disappears soon after hitting the dance floor in order to score a few drugs and never returns. It reinforces Selva’s vulnerability and her inevitable life alone.

To keep herself company, Selva manages to conjure visions of her dead mother. These visions help to guide her through the challenges she faces, such as looking after her grandfather, and they also help her to come to terms with the impermanence of life and her future life alone. Her grandfather’s death is inevitable, but it’s not until Elena’s disappearance that she realizes that she will be living alone. Seeing her mother in the nature around her provides her with the comfort that her family will continue to live in her and her surroundings after her grandfather passes away.

Land of Ashes was one of the best films I saw at SBIFF. It creates a vivid world from just a few images of the natural world they live in – mostly of the night sky and dense jungle, but also of the local fauna. The magic in it adds some mysticism about Selva’s future alone and the life in the wilderness around us.

Hyenas

Hyenas Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

In Djibril Diop Mambety’s Hyenas, a former outcast returns to her African village a rich woman after being kicked out three decades earlier for getting pregnant out of wedlock. The town fawns over her wealth and rolls out the complete ceremony to welcome her home. However, she has other plans. She promises infinite wealth to the impoverished town and it’s residents in exchange for the execution of Dramaan, a local shopkeeper and the man who fathered her child without owning up. Will the community betray their beloved shopkeeper for wealth?

For more analysis check out Layla Gaye’s review of the film and it’s satirical criticism of neocolonialism and the corrupting power of wealth on a society’s morality.

From: Senegal, Africa
Watch: Trailer, JustWatch, Kanopy
Next: Bamako, Black Girl, Rashomon

In Right Near the Beach, Jeffrey Jacobs, Jamaica’s world record breaking sprinter is beaten to death near his home. His murder sparks a frenzy of media coverage that digs into his friendship with a gay man. Jeffrey’s single father becomes a social pariah because of the reaction to his son’s death, living alone in the hills. It’s only when his youngest son returns that he is given a chance to transcend his isolation and grief.

Right Near the Beach tells its story effectively through the images and sounds it presents. Firstly, the film develops Terrence Malick’s visual style to create a more visceral feeling. Right Near the Beach still has the trademark wandering camera and meditative shots familiar to Malick’s films, but adds a varying shot length to better convey the varying emotions Jeffrey’s dad feels.

For most of the film, the average spot length feels longer than your typical Hollywood film. This gives the audience more time to watch the characters as they wander in rural Jamaica alone, allowing us to feel their search for inner peace. However, for a few key scenes, the emotional toll of the media and neighborhood gossip is too much for them and they release their frustration in sin scenes with frantically fast cutting. The quick shots that rapidly cut around Jeffrey’s dad when he starts axing a tree root creates an urgent feeling of blind rage that contrasts with the otherwise relaxed feelings generated by the longer shots. It’s one example of how the filmmakers brilliantly use shot lengths to change the feelings of each scene.

Secondly, the sound of Right Near the Beach provides the foundation for the visual experimentation. In the first half of the film, the soundtrack is dominated by a constant stream of radio show interviews with people discussing Jeffrey Jacobs’ homosexuality. The real homophobia you hear on air (these interviews were conducted with real Jamaicans) penetrates the silence of the rural area Jeffrey’s father lives. What he hears forces him deeper into isolation just to try and silence the country’s prejudice. This changes in the second half of the film, when the prejudiced voices that plague him start to ease after his youngest son’s arrival. They’re replaced by more natural sounds from the rural environment they live in, marking his successful coming to terms with his eldest son’s death. It’s as if he’s managed to meditate away the hateful media and replace it with a calm peace of mind. Just as the visceral visual style builds emotions, the sounds we hear guide us through Jeffrey’s dad’s grief.

To take the film full circle, the filmmakers end the film with the reunion of the dad and his youngest son. It’s a touching end to an emotional film that shows they have both transcended the deaths of their brother/son and mother/wife.

Right Near the Beach manages to accomplish a lot. Firstly, the editing and cinematography work incredibly well with the soundscape to depict the character’s raw emotion and path to overcoming their grief. Secondly, the full circle script gives the film a spiritual completeness that many films fail to achieve. But, that’s not all. Right Near the Beach also touches on the prejudice in Jamaica and how the country is largely overlooked internationally except for beaches and running (hence the ironic title). I’m excited to see more from these filmmakers.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews from PAFF 2020.

The Missing Picture Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

Click on poster to rent film


Have you heard of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge?

  • If you have, great, watch this film to understand how they changed Cambodian society.
  • If you haven’t, no problem, watch this film to learn who/what they were and how they revolutionised a country on film and destroyed it in reality.
Why Watch The Missing Picture?
  • To learn about life in Cambodia in the 1970s before and after Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge came to power
  • To imagine a country where your only possession was a spoon
  • Learn about a country where artists were prohibited – the only images left are of a myth created by Pol Pot and his regime
  • Clay figures!
The Breakdown

The Missing Picture starts in a darkish room full of stacks of film rolls. The floor is covered with film strips. Someone picks up one of the film strips and looks at the still images it contains. It shows a Cambodian woman dancing in traditional dress. This Cambodia, traditional Cambodia, was left to be forgotten by the Khmer Rouge so they could forge a new country.

Image result for khmer rouge logo rice paddy factoryThe Khmer Rouge created a new country by creating a new mythology. Art and tradition was thrown to the side. Now “the spade is your pen, and the rice field is your paper”. The picture on the right shows the Khmer Rouge’s utopia. There is a factory, irrigation, corn harvest, and rice fields but no people. This is Pol Pot’s vision for a state driven by work and void of culture.

The clay figures represent many things. As they are motionless, they represent the death: death of the past and death of the many Cambodians that died during under the Khmer Rouge. The clay figures also represent ‘the missing picture’ ie. everything that was not documented by the Khmer Rouge on film. As the Khmer Rouge only documented films of people working the rice fields, the clay figures end up recreating a lot of undocumented life. They re-enact the famine, death, and forced labour that the Khmer Rouge did not document. This is the untold story of Cambodia under the Khmer Rouge.

Conclusion

The Missing Picture allows us to recreate a more accurate history of Cambodia under the Khmer Rouge. It shows us the real footage shot by the Khmer Rouge and adds in ‘missing’ scenes of famine and death that the Khmer Rouge ignored. As a result, this film importantly documents the horrific events that the Khmer Rouge tried to absolve from history. If you’re after a true documentary of the Khmer Rouge – this is as close as you can get.

For another great South East Asian documentary, I strongly recommend watching The Look of Silence (available on Netflix).