KAFIR (BERSEKUTU DENGAN SETAN): Third Act Issue Aside, A Refreshingly Creepy, Psychological Take on Indonesian Horror

           

                                             

Genre: Drama, Horror
Produced by: Upi Avianto
Directed by: Azhar Kinoi Lubis
Written by: Upi Avianto, Rafki Hidayat
Production Company: Starvision
Starring: Putri Ayudya, Sujiwo Tejo, Indah Permatasari, Rangga Azof, Nadya Arina, Teddy Syah, Nova Eliza, Djenar Maesa Ayu, Yayu Unru
Runtime: 97 minutes

 

SYNOPSIS: 

Still trying to move on from their father Herman’s (Teddy Syah) death, a grieving family’s resolve is put under test after the mother Sri’s (Putri Ayudya) gradual descent into madness. Somehow, supernatural entities are responsible for the family’s past and present predicaments. 

REVIEW: 

Safe to say, our film industry is oversaturated with the horror genre. August alone has seen three new horror releases in the space of less than two weeks. Yet, the same thing occurs. Each and every new entry is always compared with the 2017 smash hit Pengabdi Setan.   On the one hand, the Indonesian horror genre has often been accused of being easy cash grabs, but on the other, writer-director Joko Anwar injects the genre’s bankable potential with much-needed class and effort on a production design, direction and storytelling standpoint. And if any, Starvision’s latest production Kafir: Bersekutu dengan Setan’s pre-release charm rests on its similarity to Rapi Films’ Pengabdi Setan. Put the two films next to each other, and it is easy to say that Kafir’s screenwriters Rafki Hidayat and Upi Avianto’s script borrows pretty much a lot of the same plot beats from Joko Anwar’s script. 

Firstly, in terms of the aesthetic, both films take place prominently in a haunted house during the 20^th century. Secondly, in terms of the dramatic elements of the story, both films revolve around a family’s struggle to move on with their lives after a family member’s death. Thirdly, in terms of the horror elements, both films see the dead loved ones or a variation of them come back to haunt the family. Let’s not forget that both films even include the presence of a Satanist cult in the narrative.  

These uncanny resemblances are where Kafir’s storyline can get a bit predictable. Hidayat and Upi obviously did some minor tweaks, like the gender switch of the dead loved one or the time period in the 20^th century just to name a few, and pulled a bit of twist and turns here and there to distinguish its story from a gazillion other I- horror films. Yet, at the same time, those who had seen Pengabdi Setan could more or less figure out where Kafir is going, and at the end of the day, the film eventually does not take as much risk with the narrative despite the aforementioned changes. 

However, the clearest aspect that distinguishes Kafir from Pengabdi Setan and, to a certain extent, other I-horror films, is the screenplay’s interpretation of horror itself. Joko Anwar’s Pengabdi Setan is basically straight-out popcorn horror, while Azhar Kinoi Lubis’ Kafir is more of a drama with supernatural elements in it. It trades the I-horror’s mentality of scaring people through the physical form of a ghost with a more psychologically-driven one. Here, true horror lies in the suggestion of such entity. For the first two acts, the audience never gets a glimpse of the supernatural entity in its physical form. Any time such entity “appears” onscreen, its appearance is at best subtle. Sometimes the entity comes in the form of a pan flying out or the piano keys moving by themselves. Sometimes it comes in the form of a murky, blossoming leak in the ceiling. As a result, the chilling atmosphere the film tries to build rests more on a sustained level of suspense rather than the occasional jump scares. It tries to realize the sensation of fearing the unseen, which the film executes very well. 

In fact, the horror only serves as an exaggerated way to convey a humanly relatable subject matter. Kafir is really about grief, and how a person’s inability to let go of her past can threaten the unity of a family, effectively told through the eyes of Putri Ayudya’s character/the mother in the family Sri. Sri is essentially the main character in the whole story, the first hand witness of all the supernatural occurrences, and the reason why the film maintains its suspense well in the first two acts hinges on the story’s focus on her struggle. Her longer screen time allows the audience to fully immerse themselves into the character as her sanity is slowly leaving her.  

Beyond the narrative’s approach to horror, the film’s overriding suspense is further elevated by the captivatingly creepy imagery on display. Yunus Pasolang stakes further claim as the Indonesian version of Roger Deakins with his unconventional approach to composing shots. Here, he often likes to film characters through the perspective of objects, like maybe from the inside of a cooking pan or underneath the piano cover. As the horror element starts to kick in, such camera technique manages to give us the sense that we are looking at the event through the ghost’s perspective, which adds a lot in terms of the psychological scares. Apart from the shot composition, what Pasolang accomplishes with the color grading speaks a thousand words, even in a metaphorical level. One that stands out is the color shift in frame from the other scenes to the ones set inside the shaman Jarwo’s (Sujiwo Tejo) house. Every time the film gets to the shaman’s house scene, the frame is suddenly bathed in blood-red, fiery hue, which gives the setting a hellish look in a way. The color also helps sell the deal-with-the-devil aspect in the scene, with the shaman Jarwo representing the Mephisto side and Sri representing the Faustian side of the deal. Small details, but they give the film extra artistic value. 

Yet, as minimal as the jump scares are, Kafir often has the tendency to fall into the jump scares trap. To make matters worse, the film often falls in the false jump scares trap. There are many scenes where a mysterious figure suddenly appears behind a character, startling him/her, followed by a burst of loud music meant to jolt the audience, only for the figure to end up being a family member or the girlfriend, which comes off as cheap and annoying.  The problem is that it does not happen just once, but quite often in the film to the point that it takes away from the already well-built suspense. Another issue lies in Indah Permatasari’s character Hanum. Here, Hanum is the family’s son Andi’s (Rangga Azof) girlfriend, who eventually acts as a helping hand to take care of the mother. However, the character itself for most part is inconsequential to the story. It requires the twist ending to validate the character’s role in the story, which is by far the most problematic aspect of the whole film. 

Without spoiling anything, it is not as if the ending does not make sense, but looking back at the film and how the beginning and the middle culminates to this point and how the twist itself is executed onscreen feels so abrupt that it ends up not making any sense. It is as if the ending ditches being a psychological horror film for a more by-the-number, Conjuring-esque climax, which is just disappointing by the film’s early standard. Also, as insignificant as it may be, there are certain technological objects present here that might come off as a bit anachronistic considering the time period the film has established. 

Kafir has an ensemble cast, but at the end of the day, Putri Ayudya is the true star of the show with her committed, unhinged performance as the grieving family’s mother Sri.  Typical to most female characters in horror films, she does scream and cry during the creepy moments in which she manages to convey well without being too over-the-top, but a plus point with the screenplay’s characterization of Sri is that she’s much more than the stock scream queen. She has got a lot to deal emotionally, as she tries to remain calm and composed in front of her children while behind the scene, these supernatural entities are trying to take away any shred of sanity left in her. Putri Ayudya sells every aspect of the character’s dilemma well, the pain, the sadness and the confusion as she witnesses her life crushing down on her. Hopefully, the people in the Indonesian film awards committee take notice, and nominate her for Best Actress with this performance. 

Beyond that, the young talents in Rangga Azof and Nadya Arina manage to make a fairly smooth transition from television to the motion picture medium as the grieving family’s children Andi and Dina respectively. We buy into the idea of these two actors being siblings through their natural chemistry, and at the same time, they are a believable pair because of the characters’ opposing personalities. Andi is pretty much the stereotypical skeptic here, one who believes their mother is crazy because she is sick, while Dina, through her love of detective novels, is the more conspiracy theorist-type, one who believes there is more to their mother’s craziness beyond just sickness. So often, their contrasting arguments regarding their mother’s condition give the film more flavors in terms of the family conflict. If there is any issue with any of the two characters, Andi does make a lot of dumb decisions in the film, which the screenplay maybe could have done better. 

CONCLUSION: 

Overall, Kafir: Bersekutu dengan Setan reminds the audience that true horror lies in the humans' mind, with the subtle, yet creepy imagery and the suspense-driven, psychological approach to the horror elements. Sadly, the third act ditches such promising concept for generic I-horror gimmicks.

SCORE: 7/10.