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Krabi 2562 – A Subtle Critique of One of Thailand’s Most Visited Regions

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.

A Storm Was Coming (Anunciaron Tormenta) – Berlinale 2020

A Storm Was Coming starts with a still shot of the landscape of Equatorial Guinea. Slowly, the landscape becomes more and more overexposed until the shot is completely whitewashed and the landscape has disappeared. This visual example of whitewashing to start A Storm Was Coming is a style that director Jose Fernandez Vasquez uses throughout the film to represent the Spanish Empire’s eradication of the culture of Equatorial Guinea.

The Spanish Empire controlled Equatorial Guinea until 1968. As presented by the Spanish texts from the Francoist era which are read in the film, their rule was benevolent. Colonialism and the power structures it left ensured that an indigenous voice didn’t arise to challenge the Spanish hegemony. This one sided history is represented throughout the film through the scenes of a white man recording Spanish history and the lack of indigenous representation.

Scenes of a white Spanish man in a recording studio reading passages from bibliographies of Spanish colonists make up the bulk of A Storm Was Coming. The passages, which are being recorded in a studio in Madrid, present a one sided view of the history of Equatorial Guinea from the capital of the colonizers. These scenes are visually supported by images of different Spanish missions in Equatorial Guinea appearing out of a blank screen, as if they’re appearing on white photographic paper processed in the photographic darkroom. Their appearance from nothing, perpetuates the controversial colonial viewpoint that colonialism ‘civilized’ their colonies, providing infrastructure, culture, and history. It’s a viewpoint that erases all pre-colonial history, as if nothing of significance existed before the colonists’ arrival. The director combines images of Spanish missions appearing from ‘nothing’ with the reading of Spanish colonial texts to demonstrate the Spanish hegemony of written, aural, and visual Equatoguinean history.

Whilst the voices of Spanish colonists are being preserved, the voices of the colonized have been lost. We hear from a few Bubi people (one of the indigenous groups in Equatorial Guinea), but we never see them on screen. They tell us about Esaasi Eweera, a Bubi leader who tried to resist the Spanish Empire. He’s a heroic leader in their eyes, but his resistance is diminished in Spanish texts. As a result, he has almost disappeared from history, just as the place of his birth has disappeared under overgrown bush. Furthermore, whilst the film spends a lot of time documenting the Spanish voices in Madrid and showing images of Spanish missions, the only pictures of native Equatoguinean people are flashed onto the screen for less than half of a second. Their lack of representation emphasizes how the Spanish rule has lasted visually and aurally, seared onto the minds of the native and Spanish people. In contrast, the Bubi have disappeared from the past and present; they don’t even appear in the film.

Well, at least until the very last scene. To prevent enforcing the Spanish narrative the film reveals, the director, a Spanish filmmaker himself, ends A Storm Was Coming with a face on interview with Bubi scholar Justo Bolekia Boleká. It’s the first time the director shows a native Equatoguinean on screen, giving him more respect than the other characters with a face to face interview. It’s also the first time we hear the Bube language. Ending with Justo Bolekia Boleká and his daughter reciting a Bubi poem in Bube, reveals one thing the Spanish couldn’t eradicate: memory. It’s an ending statement that shows that Bubi culture still survives, despite the Spanish cultural and historical hegemony which still holds power today.

Watched on Festival Scope Pro. This film screened at the Berlinale Forum 2020.

In Search of Voodoo – An Educational Documentary of Voodoo Culture

In Search of Voodoo Film Difficulty Ranking: 1

Why Watch In Search of Voodoo?

For an introduction to Voodoo culture
If you like to learn about world cultures
To see the effect of colonialism on local culture

From: Benin, Africa
Watch: Trailer, JustWatch, Hoopla, Kanopy, Tubi, Amazon Prime
Next: Batuque, Golden Fish, African Fish, N!ai

Sunday in Brazzaville – Meet Some of the Capital’s Artists

Sunday in Brazzaville Film Difficulty Ranking: 2

Why Watch Sunday in Brazzaville?

See documentary of an African country that doesn’t focus on poverty or war
Meet 3 of the capital’s artists
To see how some of the Republic of Congo’s residents get down

From: Republic of Congo, Africa
Watch: IMDb, JustWatch, Tubi, Hoopla
Next: System K, Burkina Rising, Night of Calypso

50 years after colonialism, Sunday in Brazzaville takes a look at three artists contributing to contemporary Congolese culture in the former capital of Free France. Each of them reforms influences from the West into cultures that are uniquely Congolese.

The three artists in profile represent three different parts of culture:

The Fashion orientated Sapeurs – a group of men and women that live by a gentlemanly code and dress in bright suits. Their code of conduct rules that they must show good manners, be elegant, and always well dressed – deriving their characteristics from wealthy upper class Frenchmen. They’re surprisingly proud of their French heritage, but also sport brightly colored suits that feel uniquely Congolese.
The wrestler representing sport and entertainment. This wrestling has much more in common with the WWE in the U.S. than the greco-Roman wrestling you’ll see at the Olympics. It’s more focused on the spectacle than strength. The wrestler profiled, like the Sapeurs, mixes Congolese elements into the U.S. style wrestling, with magic and live animals becoming his secret weapons.
Lastly there’s our musician, a rapper uncovering life in Brazzaville in his rhymes. Like the Sapeurs and the wrestler, he has been influenced by culture from the West (in this case rap music from the U.S.) and adapted it to depict contemporary Congolese life.

Each of the three artists in Sunday in Brazzaville represent contemporary Congolese culture with all of them adapting elements of Western art for Congolese audiences to give a quick overview of life in Brazzaville. The only thing that would have been nice to see is more of a gender balance in the subjects as the characters profiled are all male.

What to Watch Next

Sunday in Brazzaville is a western made African documentary that doesn’t focus on the exploitative thematic trio of poverty, conflict, and AIDS. Narrated by a Congolese radio host, it reminded me a bit of PRI’s informative and diverse Afropop Worldwide podcast series which looks at a wide range of African music around the world. It also reminded me of some of the vibrant and colorful documentaries coming out of the Republic of Congo’s neighbor the DRC such as System K and Zombies. Or if you’re looking for more overviews of one country’s culture, check out Burkina Rising and Night of Calypso.