During
the swinging sixties, Cambodia’s King Sihanouk was composing rock & roll
tunes. Unfortunately, when he made his Faustian deal with the Khmer Rouge, he
had to shift gears and churn out patriotic dirges. Needless to say, Cambodians
prefer his earlier work. The 60s pop surveyed in Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten remains popular, but sadly nine out of
ten Cambodian recording artists were murdered during Pol Pot’s socialist
genocide. However, an unlikely new group has found success giving those catchy
tunes a fresh contemporary spin. Marc Eberle documents their formation and
growing pains in Cambodian Space Project:
Not East Rock ‘n’ Roll (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 Hawaii International Film Festival.
When
Australian musician Julien Poulson met Srey Thy [Channthy], she was working in
a karaoke bar. Her job did involve singing, but other duties were implied, as
Poulson quickly confirmed. However, something about her stage presence stuck
with him. Like a Cambodian Pretty Woman,
Poulson hatched an idea to form a band with Srey Thy, combining elements of Western
and Cambodian pop.
Despite
her humble status and other assorted prejudices against her, the Cambodian
Space Project kind of sort of takes off. In the short run, this means more gigs
than dough. However, Srey Thy starts to envision a respectable future for herself—with
Poulson, at least for a while. Let’s just say their relationship evolves
considerably.
Cambodian
Space Project might be the only band truly worthy of a reality TV show. There
is a heck of a lot going on with them backstage (even though Eberle
problematically ignores the other members of the group). Yet, in many ways, the
identity of the CSP is inextricably intertwined with the tragic history of
Cambodia. Srey Thy has a particular affinity for the sassy songs of Pen Ran,
who was one of so many artists deliberately ferreted out and executed by the
Khmer Rouge for their involvement in bourgeoisie culture. She can also directly
observe the effects of their reign of terror in her father, who ostensibly
survived the genocide, but remains deeply traumatized by the tortures he
endured.
Clearly,
chronicling the Cambodian Space Project was a mission of passion for Eberle,
who also directed several of the band’s videos. He invested several years
following them around the world, capturing some significant and telling moments
as a result. While their story is deeply Cambodian, it has elements both
Horatio Alger and O. Henry would appreciate. Of course, that messiness makes it
rather fascinating, in a voyeuristic kind of way.
