PEREMPUAN TANAH JAHANAM: Joko Anwar's Smart, Innovative, Twisted and Nerve-Shredding Reinvention of the Cult Horror Formula

Genre: Horror

Produced by: Shanty Harmayn, Aoura L. Chandra, Tia Hasibuan, Ben Soebiakto   

Directed by: Joko Anwar    

Written by: Joko Anwar  

Production Company: BASE Entertainment, Rapi Films  

Starring: Tara Basro, Marissa Anita, Asmara Abigail, Ario Bayu, Christine Hakim, Kiki Narendra, Zidni Hakim, Faradina Mufti, Aghniny Haque      

Runtime: 106 minutes                                               

SYNOPSIS: 

Maya (Tara Basro) is a young woman struggling to make ends meet in the big city. One day, she learns that her estranged family in the village had left her a heritage worth more than enough to help ease her financial problems. And so, she jumps at the chance of going back home without any second thought, bringing her best friend Dini (Marissa Anita) along for the ride.  Trouble soon ensues when the women realize something is not quite right about the village. Simply said, it becomes a matter of life and death. 


 

REVIEW: 

A genre-traversing filmmaker by nature, yet Joko Anwar’s name is much more synonymous to the horror genre. It’s hardly a surprising revelation considering the fact that he often cited Sisworo Gautama Putra’s Indonesian horror classic Pengabdi Setan (1980) as the reason he wanted to make movies in the first place. Even early on his career, he has always been the sole bright spot amidst the anemic quality of Indonesian horror cinema, continuously breaking new grounds with cult classics such as Kala (2007), the Forbidden Door (2009) and Modus Anomali (2012), even if those movies were only modest box office hits when they were first released. 

It is only a matter of time though that the masses would finally give him credit where it is due. In 2017, he won Rapi Films’ trust to remake his childhood favorite Pengabdi Setan and since then, he never looked back. It was a box office phenomenon, attracting over 4.2 million audiences and proving that there is room for both a good creative decision and a good financial decision for the Indonesian horror genre. 

And that was enough to convince him to resurrect one of his many passion projects: Perempuan Tanah Jahanam. It’s a project with so much personal history for Joko Anwar, as it’s been passed on from one production house to another, rejected and then shelved for as long as a decade before finally Rapi Films gave him the go-ahead in their second collaboration. Sticking with the theme of collaboration, the movie also reunites three of Joko Anwar’s acting muses for the first time after Gundala (2019) like two months ago: Tara Basro, Marissa Anita and Asmara Abigail. 

In an age where intellectual property-driven movies are guaranteed to rule the roost, Perempuan Tanah Jahanam seems like the outlier. It’s an original screenplay, unlike Pengabdi Setan, meaning that its appeal rests entirely on the popularity of Joko Anwar the filmmaker than the movie title itself. 

In true Joko Anwar fashion, Perempuan Tanah Jahanam is a boldly bonkers and highly satisfying genre exercise that feels like a welcome antidote to the cookie-cutter Indonesian horror cash-grabs populating the theaters lately. And it even goes the extra mile of adding a few new ideas in an otherwise familiar story. Back in his creepy horror wheelhouse after a two year-long hiatus, Anwar displays an effortless, virtuoso-level flair for mixing classic the Wicker Man (1973)-esque cult horror tropes with a sprinkle of Javanese culture and tradition in a manner that is both subversive and unpredictable, even for the more seasoned horror movie buffs. 

Perempuan Tanah Jahanam is such a subversive, unpredictable experience that it’s one of those rare Indonesian horror attractions that are mercifully devoid of any cheap jump scares. Anwar’s movie is more equivalent to a jigsaw-puzzle thriller than it is the literal haunted house horror flick, with its large emphasis on tense, cerebral thrills paying dividends throughout its 106-minute runtime. 

Anwar proves to be a skilled hand at building up a quietly haunting atmosphere shrouded with so much foreboding mystery and pervasive terror. It’s the sort of movie where there is a feeling that its characters are always in peril even when not much is happening onscreen. It’s also the sort of movie where the typical haunted horror movie scares are handled in a more subdued, yet still skin-crawling way. And eventually, it all adds up to a slow-burn horror that, despite its deliberate, almost glacial pace, manages to maintain a palpable sense of urgency without having to throw everything but the kitchen sink, which is a testament to the creative talents all across the board. 

 

Other than all that, Perempuan Tanah Jahanam has something much deeper to say about the real world than just the average heroines v. evil cult horror picture. Anwar takes full advantage of the genre’s formula to shed some horrifying, yet timely light on the lives of underprivileged people in Indonesia. At its core, it’s a haunting cautionary tale about desperate people trying to get out of a very difficult situation and how that would drive them to make all the wrong, even inhumane choices. As a horror movie, such characterization further ratchets up the tension. As a pure human drama, it makes both the heroines and the evil cult feel much more grounded in reality amongst its mystical surroundings. 

And perhaps, no characters in Perempuan Tanah Jahanam are more grounded in reality than its two lead heroines: Maya and Dini. Anwar has brilliantly subverted the basic perception of the female archetypes in horror movies by crafting a couple of vividly-drawn, fully-realized young women that’s worth rooting for not only because they’re being chased by an evil cult, but also because they seem like believable characters with believable problems, believable ambitions and a believable relationship. Maya and Dini represent the world- weariness of the working class people, whose lives in the big city are so down-on-their-luck, cash-strapped and just hopeless in their pursuit of the Indonesian Dream that, at one point, Dini even mentions that nobody would care if she takes the day off. It’s a timely subject in today’s world, but it’s never heavy-handed since it’s done in such a subtle and powerful way, providing an additional layer of character depth that takes the movie beyond just the run-of-the-mill horror flick. 

In a sense, even the way the script sets up and develops their friendship feels nothing like a horror movie and almost more reminiscent to some gritty, edgy spin on the chick flick formula. Take the opening sequence for example, where Maya and Dini, while working the night shift at a toll road entrance, engage in a small talk about sex, men and, a staple in Joko Anwar’s movies, the country’s politics. And this small talk is smart, hilarious, scathingly honest and lively. Anwar finds the fine line between social commentary and levity to create a dialogue scene that seems natural. It succeeds in getting the message across that these working class women are erudite intellectuals with some valid points about all the things wrong with the society as well as that they feel like they’ve been friends long even before this movie began. It’s rare to see a horror movie pay such great attention to the small talk scenes and does it as well as Perempuan Tanah Jahanam, so much so that another small talk scene involving the two women having a drag in the bathroom has now become yet again another meme-worthy moment from a Joko Anwar movie. 

Because of that, Perempuan Tanah Jahanam gives a compelling reason to actually care for its two lead heroines when all of the horror movie hell starts to break loose. Anwar suitably positions its heroines as the audience surrogate, since they’re the clear outsiders slowly learning about what is happening behind the scene alongside the viewers. And the fact that most of the horror happens only whenever they’re present elevates the tension. 

For proof, look no further than the opening toll road sequence, which takes a hard, almost abrupt left turn from a chick flick to a 1980’s atmospheric thriller straight out of a John Carpenter production right when Maya is accosted by a creepy driver (Teuku Rifnu Wikana). What begins as an awkward conversation culminates into a tense foot chase between Maya and the driver, now wielding an axe with the intention of killing her, through a deserted highway. That scene alone exemplifies the movie’s tone as it drastically and seamlessly swings from eerie quiet to just bat-shit crazy. 

Free of any loud noises or exploitative violence, the movie relies mostly on subtly horrifying imagery for scares, effectively so. There is a scene where the village’s creepy old lady Nyi Misni (Christine Hakim) comes out of her house to hang “something” on a clothesline. Save for a few bird chirping noises, this entire scene is almost soundless, but the seemingly mundane way in which such a horrific moment is presented makes it all the more chilling. 

Speaking of Nyi Misni, Anwar does pretty much the same thing he did with his heroines by fleshing out some of the evil cult members as characters in a surprising manner. Perempuan Tanah Jahanam makes the bold choice of turning these traditional evil Satan-worshipping cult faces into somewhat sympathetic villains that’s just as desperate in their plight as the heroines. If anything, they are more of the victims of their ancestor’s blind faith towards their own tradition than they are perpetrators, poignantly epitomized in the many newborn deaths plaguing the village. And the idea that their evil actions stem from their noble desire to right the wrongs of the past conveys an innate sense of humanity to these characters that’s rather unprecedented in the horror genre. 

Furthermore, Perempuan Tanah Jahanam boasts an equally impressive technical prowess to complement its filmmaker’s unique creative vision. Massive plaudits must be given to the talents involved behind the camera for their convincing effort in bringing to life the sights, sounds and ambience of the quiet yet eerie Harjosari village. It shouldn’t come as a huge surprise considering the fact that most of them are holdovers from previous Joko Anwar projects, with the exception being production designer Frans Paat. Still, Paat’s lush, rustic production design is something to behold, recalling his strong work with similarly rustic settings in other movies like Marlina and the Murderer in Four Acts (2017) and Kafir (2018). Ical Tanjung’s slow-moving, semi-meditative cinematography immerses its audience deeper into the vibrant greeneries of nature and the blood-red terror of what’s lurking within. Aghi Narottama, Bemby Gusti and Tony Merle prove once again that they are the finest composers in the Indonesian horror genre today, making effective use of Gamelan music and some Javanese nursery rhymes to create an inventively chilling musical score.

If there is anything holding Perempuan Tanah Jahanam back from sheer horror movie greatness, it’s the excessive amount of exposition dump. 

It seems as if Anwar doesn’t trust its audience well enough to let them read between the lines, and parts of its second act suffer because of that. His intriguing mystery box threatens to unravel as early as a scene that doesn’t just outright show the evil cult members killing an innocent person in broad daylight, but also unmask who is the ringleader behind the entire operation. For a start, it gives away too much far too soon. And also, this early revelation can make the subsequent scenes a frustrating watch at times. 

It completely changes the movie’s entire dynamic, as the second half devolves into a long, endless series of waiting games where the audience are forced to endure its heroines’ obliviousness to the obvious until, at long last, they figure out what the hell is going on behind the scene. Being one step ahead of the heroines does not only take away the immersive aspect of the movie’s mystery, but also it makes the heroines less of the intellectuals they were in the first act. It becomes apparent that, once everything’s out in the open, Anwar struggles to figure out how to make its heroines smarter than its audience while also retaining its mystery box conceit.  

And Perempuan Tanah Jahanam’s exposition dump problems ultimately rear its ugly head in its third act. For whatever reason, the movie decides to forgo much of the first two acts’ gradual build-up in favor of straightforward hand-holding, where everything its heroines and audience want and need to know are laid out on a silver platter. It’s everything in a sense that it feels like reams of back stories and expositions shoved down one’s throat all at once. 

At the same time, that’s kind of how Anwar justifies Ratih’s (Asmara Abigail), the sole villager helping its heroines’ plight, existence in the narrative. Ratih eventually becomes a prominent figure throughout the third act, but she’s only prominent because the screenplay needs her to be. She’s doesn’t really have much to do in the movie besides being the screenwriter’s mouthpiece, there to tell the heroines a bunch of stories about the village’s past, the cult’s past and even Maya’s estranged family’s past. Save for one shot of a photograph revealing a glimpse into her past, it doesn’t appear like Ratih has any life outside helping these heroines. In that case, her character feels underwritten. And Ratih’s exposition dump scene would then prove pointless as yet again another exposition dump scene comes soon after to basically retcon everything Ratih had said previously. 

These minor quibbles aside, the good easily outweighs the bad, particularly in the acting department. Joko Anwar sticks with pretty much the same cast of actors who has worked with him in more than two or three of his movies prior to Perempuan Tanah Jahanam, and they rise to the occasion as expected. 

Tara Basro is obviously no stranger to a Joko Anwar production, having starred in Anwar’s last four movies ever since her debut in a Copy of My Mind (2015), and she makes another compelling case for why she remains the filmmaker’s most gifted muse. Basro is ideally cast in the role of the lead heroine Maya, showcasing her versatility as an actress. She does a terrific job at embodying both Maya’s down-to-earth and street-tough quality as a young working-class woman who, in her desperation to turn her luck around, slowly but surely evolves into a bona-fide horror movie badass on her own right. 

Marissa Anita, in her third collaboration with Anwar since the “a Mother’s Love” episode in HBO’s Folklore, puts in an equally impressive effort here, playing a little bit against type and very well, hilariously so, as her chatty best friend Dini. Anita proves to be as comfortable in a comic relief role as she is in her dramatic roles, delivering nearly every punch line Anwar fed to her with the confidence and impeccable timing of a seasoned comedienne. She does have a few moments to exercise her dramatic muscle and she does it well, allowing her to give her comic relief role more human dimension. 

Asmara Abigail marks her third straight collaboration with Anwar since Pengabdi Setan by playing the sympathetic villager Ratih, and she slips into her role effortlessly. Renowned for playing psychotic characters in previous Joko Anwar movies, Abigail’s role here is a bit of a departure. She has one scene where she holds a knife and let loose in typical psychotic manner, but for the most part, she tones down her psychotic charm in favor of poise and conviction to show that she can also play a level-headed person. Her line reading and her courteous gestures lend more weight to her character than what is on the page. 

That is not to say Perempuan Tanah Jahanam has no new faces. Veteran actress Christine Hakim makes not only her debut in a Joko Anwar movie, but also in the horror genre with an unsurprisingly scene-stealing turn as the village’s creepy old lady Nyi Misni. Hakim brings to the table the same level of searing intensity and gravitas that made her the most respected name in the Indonesian film industry, using her sheer star power to provide Indonesian horror cinema with one of its most memorable characters. The way she reads her lines is just earth-shattering, let alone her sharp-as-blade piercing horror movie glares to the camera. 

But enough with the women, there are also some male cast members present here, one that springs to mind being Ario Bayu, another frequent Joko Anwar collaborator. Bayu delivers a strong performance that’s just as praise-worthy as his fellow female co-stars’ work, perfectly blending the old-fashioned Javanese politeness with the commanding presence of something like an earthly god to realize the character of the village’s enigmatic chief Ki Saptadi. He endlessly exudes the aura of mystique and impenetrability that doesn’t just make the villagers believe that Ki Saptadi is a man of both high and mystical reputation, but also its audience. 

CONCLUSION:          

                     

Perempuan Tanah Jahanam solidifies Joko Anwar’s status as the brightest talent in the horror genre in a smart, innovative, twisted and nerve-shredding reinvention of the cult horror formula, with haunting imageries, root-worthy heroines and outstanding performances all-round.   

Score: 9/10