The Photograph

Contributed by Mike Fishman.

Once in a while (a great while), a film will come along that is so painfully beautiful and created with such integrity, it can lead one to take pause of one’s own life and reflect on one’s own regrets. The Photograph, written and directed by Singapore-born Nan Achnas, is such a film. I’d heard about it and, knowing it was not available yet on DVD, knew I had to catch it at the MOMA where it screened as part of their Global Lens 2009 program. Hopefully this 2007 Indonesian film, which won two awards at the 43rd Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, will be released theatrically. There is a paucity of material about it on the web; the official website (http://www.thephotographmovie.com/) is limited and out of date. But two long clips are available on YouTube., which while not great quality will give a sense of this film’s power and beauty.

The fairly straight-forward narrative about Johan (played to perfection by Kay Tong Lim, an actor with an extensive list of credits of TV-bit parts), an aging/ailing photographer nursing regret for most of his life taking in Sita, (played beautifully by the actress known simply as Shanty) 25, a talented singer forced into prostitution to provide for her daughter who she hasn’t seen in two years, is perfectly executed and sincere to the core. Sita eventually becomes caregiver to the reluctant Johan, just as Johan had previously acted as savior to her, and their relationship, friendship and the details of their lives slowly unfold. That the two do not fall into a romantic or sexual relationship is very much part of the strength and believability of this film. It really is about two people, very different and yet not so different, finding that they need the other person, despite their internal and external protests. They say they want to be alone but in truth, they are just not interested in most of the company available to them.

The characters are so well-established that when moments of violence, remembrance and tragedy occur, they are utterly believable, burrowing down into one’s soul with the intensity of a painting gazed at for the first time. When the source of Johan’s lifelong regret is finally revealed, it is so shocking in a believable rather than manipulative way, that one can relate to how it would in fact scar a person for life. Likewise, a scene in which Sita is gang-raped is filmed and unfolds in such a way that it is felt by the viewer, the consequences of it are felt rather than just observed, and not offered up as a manipulative dish of pity. This is the main strength and power of this film: that characters and situations which could easily be presented in a cloying or manipulative way are not, and they retain their dignity. And we, as audience, retain our dignity.

Both characters have been scarred by life, physically and emotionally, but beauty still exists in the world; for Sita, it is waiting in the eyes of her loving daughter. For Johan, it is in finding an apprentice to carry on his work and tradition. And there is some wonderful humor in the scenes where he interviews potential apprentices, almost all of whom are woefully unfit and generally uninterested in photography. The humor in these scenes is sweet, direct, and earthy. But most importantly, it is earned, as with the humor in Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, and thus cathartic. That earned humor, and the fact that the film refuses to go where one might expect it to, makes this a film filled with small surprises that add up to very large experience, one that will stay with you days after the credits roll.