Niina Doherty, Author at Diabolique Magazine

Indonesia saw it first great cinematic boom in the 1970’s and 80’s. After the change in power from Sukarno to Suharto in 1966, amongst the upheaval the country also saw a loosening in its strict film censorship rules. This together with heavier taxation on imported films, government subsidies on domestic productions, and later government requirement so that production companies produce at least one domestic feature for every three they imported, helped to flood the market with new home-grown talent. The first wave of these productions were mainly made as cheaply and quickly as possible and, as a result, were not taken overly seriously by audiences. However, by the 1970’s many talented filmmakers had started to put more effort in creating something with actual cinematic value. Inspiration was drawn from the Indonesia’s booming comic book industry as well as local legends and folklore, creating projects with a distinctly local flavour to them. But while the censorship rules had been loosened, that did not mean that just anything could fly under the censor’s watchful eye. The subtle political criticism hidden in fantasy films like The Warrior (Jaka Sembung, 1981) was seen as potentially dangerous and after gently suggesting that production companies should be focusing more on contemporary themes like friendly police force fighting organised crime, and then eventually banning one of the film industries main sources of inspiration, comic books, fantasy and historical action was slowly replaced with more modern content. Around the same time the government also woke up to the financial opportunities that getting Indonesian cinema to the foreign market could bring and thus started to push for productions that could be taken to festivals like Cannes and sold to foreign distributors. To make these plans happen, there was a relatively small pool of local talent whose skills could be utilised. One of them just so happened to be H. Tjut Djalil. Before entering the world of horror, Djalil had already gained 20 years of experience in the industry, working on documentary productions, as well as a scriptwriter, and also as an actor. With his horror productions, mixing local folklore with modern horror tropes and using mixture of Western and local cast, he became somewhat of an aficionado in Western style horror. Unlike productions aimed purely to the domestic market, Djalil’s films would not include comedy sequences or seemingly random musical numbers in the middle of all the action but followed story arcs much more like those of their Western counterparts. From the perspective of a modern audience member, all of this might sound slightly absurd. Not least the fact that at least two of his six horror productions were shameless copies of Western films, jam packed with material that could more than easily trigger a cease and desist order from the creators of the original projects. Furthermore, Djalil is well known for using non actors, such as the German tourist Ilona Agathe Bastian in Mystics in Bali, who was simply picked for the role for her looks, with understandably predictable results, making it hard to believe that these film were ever thought of as viable candidates for the foreign market. Nevertheless, Djalil’s films do possess a certain magic to which it is hard to find comparison. His often-outrageous take on the exploitation genre is a true gem amongst Indonesian exploitation cinema and something to be celebrated. While Djalil dabbled in other genres throughout his career, his sojourns in the horror genre are those most known to us here in the West. Thanks to the efforts of companies like Mondo Macabro, some of these films have in past few years gotten a bit more of the attention they so well and truly deserve, but as many of them still seem to pass under the radar for many horror and exploitation fans, it seemed prudent to have a slightly closer look of these films and the fantastically ludicrous world they have to offer. Djalil tackled the horror genre early in his directing career, with the 1981 black magic romp Mystics in Bali (Leák) being just his second feature film. While most of his horror works incorporate Indonesian and South East Asian folklore and culture into the story arcs, Mystics in Bali is perhaps the most Asia centric of all of them. It is not the strongest film in Djalil’s horror cannon, but still a very worthwhile little lark to get acquainted with. In it, young woman called Catherine Kean, or Cathy (Ilona Agathe Bastian) is conducting research for her book on black magic. Her journey has already introduced her to the likes of voodoo, but now she wants something darker, something more powerful. The answer to this quest of knowledge is found in the Balinese Leák magic, which is said to be the most dangerous of them all. Reading about these traditions is one thing, but to really get to know the secrets of the Leák is to learn it herself. Lucky for Cathy her lover Mahendra (Yos Santo) just happens to know how to get in contact with a local Leák practitioner and in no time at all Cathy finds herself in a midnight rendezvous with said witch. As we all know, dealing with the dark arts is dangerous at best of times, but signing yourself up as apprentice for a black magic master is particularly dicey. If nothing else, you should definitely read the fine print and make sure there are no hidden clauses that might come and haunt you in the long run. Unfortunately, young Cathy is not aware of this basic common-sense safety measure and jumps at the chance of apprenticing with a Leák witch quicker than you can say “It’s a trap!”. Soon Cathy’s disembodied head is flying around with her entrails dragging behind her, sucking unborn babies out if their mother’s wombs. Not quite what she signed up for. As luck would have it, out of the two lovers, Mahendra sems to have a little more sense and he has already talked to an uncle who knows how to deal with this type of magic and together with him they set out to get Cathy out of her contract and her nightly murder flights. South-East Asian folklore is full of some weird and wonderful creatures, but the Leák, better known as Penanggaln, is definitely one of the more fantastical ones. As described above, it consists of a floating woman’s head with internal organs attached. It is a vampiric figure, feeding on the blood of women who has just given birth or women who are menstruating, as well as kidnapping the newborn for their own dark purposes. Penanggal are not ghosts or ghouls, but mortal women who practice black magic and have through ritual meditation been able to achieve this form. They are masters of leading a double life and often practice midwifery as their day job, simultaneously paying the bills and helping them find new victims. So convenient! The reasons for these nightly flights are slightly unclear, but as we are talking about black magic here, it is safe to assume that the rewards of this practice are either power, riches or beauty. Be the motivations what they may, there is certainly enough gruesome material for whole series of horror films, which the Indonesian and Malay film community have naturally taken advantage of over the years. But it is not only the penanggal that makes Mystics in Bali worthwhile viewing. Besides Cathy’s nightly flights, she also learns how to transform into a pig (why, you may ask? I do not know) and a snake, latter of which makes her vomit live mice and makes Mahendra suspect she has a particularly nasty case of food poisoning. We also see her teacher manifest herself as a floating fire ball, very obviously suspended by a string, and fight a white magician with magical lasers. All of this is done using the hokeyest of special effects one can possibly imagine, with the animal transformation scenes making one wonder if the special effects department of this film has ever actually seen a pig or a snake? It is truly fantastic, and will no doubt offer tremendous enjoyment for those who enjoy this level of corniness. However, Mystics in Bali does have a problem with its storyline. This is not to say that any of Djalil’s later horror escapades have any more of a plotline to them, but it is obvious that with Mystics in Bali, he was still finding his feet in the horror genre. While the film does have all the elements of a perfect trash fest, the rather slow-moving story holds it back. It never quite gathers enough momentum to really grip the viewer and while the cheesy special effects do keep you watching till the end, it lacks the same kind of punch as the films that would follow. The next film in Djalil’s horror cannon was his first bona fide copycat project Satan’s Bed (Batas Impian Ranjang Setan’, 1986). Those familiar with his other works in this area such as The Lady Terminator, will know that these projects are most certainly not known for their subtlety. While The Lady Terminator is quite a brazen example of this, it still somehow pales in comparison with Satan’s Bed. With a title such as this one might expect a story about possession or perhaps some kind of semi erotic tale about the Prince of Darkness himself, but no. Naturally Satan’s Bed rips off the 1984 Wes Craven classic A Nightmare on Elm Street, with a little bit of Poltergeist (1982) thrown into the mix just for good measure. The film still retains some of the local flavour with shamans and ghosts, but not anywhere near enough to mask where the inspiration for this project stemmed. It stars Didier A. Hamel, Richie Ricardo and Marianne Wolf, but I cannot tell you in which roles, as this information does not seem to be available anywhere, including the film’s opening titles. The film starts with seemingly completely unrelated scene of a happy family celebrating Christmas. The merrymaking around the tree is rudely interrupted by an intruder that shoots everyone. Why this happens is in no way explained and neither is what happens to the intruder afterwards. Presumably...