Cinespot : From Singapore with Love

From Singapore with Love

The Year of Living Dangerously

(Dear Cinespot readers, please be forewarned that this column will discuss major spoilers from the above titled film.)

The Year of Living Dangerously is frustratingly schizophrenic. In those two odd hours, I could almost taste its amalgam of moodswings, from youthful idealism to sweltering lust, from nostalgic romanticism to heedless obstinacy. Most overwhelming of all, I could sense an unspeakable air of pensive weariness, hovering just above that sweat soaked universe.

Thematically, TYOLD is even more confounding. Sometimes, it felt like a white man's condescending lament; unsatisfactorily lost in translation. Sometimes, it felt like a soggy pulp fiction; spinning yarns about sleazy men chasing tardy women. Sometimes, just sometimes, it felt like a transcendent piece of cinema; one that gnawed at something greater than its parts. But what exactly might it be gnawing at? I can only hazard my guesses.

In the throes of such topsy turvy nonsense we now know as life, what make us human? When framed in its modern milieu of injustices and turmoil, how would we react? TYOLD asked (and sort of answered) these pertinent questions, as it closely scrutinised a troupe of myriad characters. Their disparate responses (be it intellectual, emotional or a blend of both), culminated into an intuitive microcosm of our humanity. The answers it provided, however, would depend as much on how you view this film as how you view your place in this world. Set against the historical backdrop of that specific place and time (Sukarno era, Indonesia), there were many "archetypical" characters spread throughout this film. And they fascinated me. I shall hence "spin the wheel" and focus on them now.

i) There were the nurtured, peers-conformed apathy from privileged foreigners (journalists, diplomatic dignitaries etc). These people were jaded by the poverty, hopelessness and utter despair in this city of sadness. They instead chose to revel in their own cocoons of late night parties, poolside rendezvous and the exotic allure of red light pleasures. As oxymoronic as it sounds, they were consciously oblivious to what's around them. They saw neither need nor reason to lend a helping hand.

ii) To the above denizens, there were prostitutes (of all age and gender) who were more than willing to lend them that hand (or mouth for that matter), for they literally lived from hand to mouth. Society afforded them few choices. Fate dealt them harsh odds in escaping poverty's imprisonment. Could they even be lifted out of the cesspool of the body trade? Not if the basic laws of economics (a simple matter of supply and demand) could help it. And slight departure from political correctness; who could say for certainty that all whores were driven into their trade by force or hardship? Could vanity, greed and self awareness not even come into play? But I digressed.

iii) There were the people who made up the Sukarno regime. They wined and dined in the laps of luxury and sought to perpetuate their high lives. Concurrently they would ignore or repress the plight of their own people. People who were fading into desolation and discontent. People who were slowly dying from malnutrition, diseases and the disappointment for life. It was hence understandable why some of these disenchanted souls might lose faith in the one government whom they originally placed their trust.

iv) As a result, there were the revolutionary activists. Amongst the docile masses, they attempted to take matters into their own hands. By the sheer force of their conviction, they incited a movement. For they saw through the ludicrous foil of this living hell. They endeavoured to break free from this oppression; to seek a better life for themselves and their people. These hardened fghters clung on to a forceful belief that they deserved better. Cue one scene when Mel Gibson's initially meek Indonesian assistant asked him this question; "Am I stupid? If not, why am I less well off than a stupid white man?" Good question. To which, I would answer just like Gibson did. I seriously don't know....

v) Next, there were people who, liberal viewpoints notwithstanding, felt less for the plight of this god forsaken landscape (and its people) and more for their own selfish love and desires (pointedly, Sigourney Weaver's character). It was less a feeling of apathy these people posessed. It was more a nonchalance for things which did not further their instinctive needs and wants.

vii) Robin Williams once said that God gave man a brain and a penis but only enough blood to run one at a time. That Robin, I think he's on to something. For that's how I viewed Mel Gibson's character. Here was a typically hot blooded young man whose needs and wants clashed headlong with his ambitious reach for ideals and all round immediate gratification. He has yet tasted the bitterness of defeat nor the consequences of recklessness. He literally lived life dangerously. The stupidity of us men was hence saliently encapsulated in this one character.

viii) And then, there was Billy Kwan (A sublime, deservedly Oscar winning performance by the one Linda Hunt). What a jarring angelic anomaly he was, when placed in this Javanese purgatory? Like a narrator straight out of a Terrence Malick movie, Billy pontificates life (and relationships) with languid grace and an almost silly whimsy. Billy was a diminutive man, a romantic man, a mysterious man but ultimately, a misguided man. His idealism was so rose tinted, it blindsided his grasp of reality. He was ill-prepared for the unstoppable tide of tragedies snowballing around him. The man just could not deal with so much suffering and hate, for he had too much love to give. But does his inadequacies make him a bad man? Does his idealism make him a good man? Does his conviction make him a strong man? Or does his idiosyncrasies makes him a weak man? I'm unable to answer that for you. You will have to decide that on your own.

Personally, I felt that real life injustices had been meted out on Ms Linda Hunt. Truth be told, I thought she deserved so much more than a regular stint in The Practice or just plain languishing in "B" grade supporting roles since TYOLD. Thanks to her indescribable portrayal of Billy Kwan, I now have one more unforgettable cinematic moment I can forever log down; its when last we saw the face of Billy Kwan. Haunting...

Some Final Words

The Year of Living Dangerously ended with a failed coup on the Sukarno regime. By that point of the film, I felt this failure was more all encompassing. For it also mirrored, in one way or another, the failure of all the above characters, in their respective year of living dangerously. How were they to pick up the pieces and go on from there? This will hence be a question worth pondering, when the curtain falls.

I opine that Peter Weir did not intend for TYOLD to just critique on the political chaos of a foreign land and lensed it with the presumptuousness of foreign eyes. He accomplished more. For via this film, he attempted to shed light on our collective psyche. He audaciously answered the complex question on where humanity should lean, when push came to shove. For with Billy Kwan's fall (while the rest survived), Weir conveyed a resounding message to its observers (us); In the face of hardship and tough times, we are to never let our accomodating kindness degenerate into a pitiful weakness, to never let idealism degenerate into fatalism and despair. It's a cold hard truth, but at least it was honest. However, if one's skull is too thick to learn from all this, one may just as well give it all up and jump off a building. Nobody's gonna bat an eyelid.

Alongside Weir's other masterpiece, Picnic on Hanging Rock, I am prepared to hail The Year of Living Dangerously as a great film.

Written by Sinnerman