Queen of Black Magic, on Shudder

Orphans are always in for a rough time in horror movies. By definition, they are vulnerable and without a family support network. Even if they survive the orphanage, something always comes for them eventually, especially if they return to their spooky old institutional home later in life. Three friends make that very mistake and their families will pay the price in Kimo (one half of the Mo Bothers) Stamboel’s Queen of Black Magic, a somewhat free remake of a 1981 Indonesian horror movie written by Joko Anwar, which premieres tomorrow on Shudder.

On his way to visit sick, old Bandi, the orphanage headmaster on his death bed, Hanif accidentally runs over a deer—except maybe it wasn’t a deer. Bad start, regardless. Everyone briefly feels reassured when they meet his two orphanage-mates Anton and Jeferi and their families, but nobody is exactly sure who called them there. Of course, strange things soon start happening and a strange, uncanny power will not let them leave.

Soon, they realize their tormentor must be the sinister witch they thought they had dealt in their teen years, under Bandi’s direction. Clearly, they had not completely finished her off. The circumstances surrounding the incident may not have been what they were led to believe either. However, she might be even angrier and more dangerous than advertised.

Anwar’s narrative really isn’t anything spectacularly new, but when he hits the classic horror tropes, he connects with haymaker roundhouses. Stamboel and cinematographer Patrick Tashadian drench everything in atmosphere and foreboding. They serve up some scary stuff, upholding the honor of Indonesian horror cinema.

Sundance ’20: Impetigore

There is usually a reason why secluded villages are secluded. It might not be rational, strictly speaking, but it holds enough sway to prevent people from beating a path to town. Likewise, large empty houses are not left abandoned without some kind of rationale, especially in hardscrabble rural Indonesia. Unfortunately, a scuffling twenty-five-year-old will go out of her way, putting herself in harm’s way, in hopes of securing an inheritance in Joko Anwar’s Impetigore, which screens during the 2020 Sundance Film Festival.

Frankly, Anwar is criminally under-heralded as a modern master of the horror genre. In the future, film schools could very well show Impetigore’s opening sequence in horror directing classes, as a crackerjack example of immediate white-knuckle tension that could serve as a compartmentalized prologue, but steadily takes on greater significance as the film develops. Maya is a frustrated toll-collector who survives a harrowing attack from a passing motorist. Weirdly, he seems to know her, even calling her by a name she vaguely remembers from her early childhood.

The ordeal spurs Maya to examine her hazy memories of life with her late parents in the countryside, before the orphaned girl relocated to the city with the woman she always knew as an aunt. All that remains is a photo of little Maya (as she is now known) standing with her parents, in front of a large and presumably valuable house. Accompanied by her encouraging friend Dini, Maya treks out to the too-small-to-be-on-the-map village, hoping to claim title to the property. However, they find the village odd. The people are standoffish and there are absolutely no children to be seen—except for the three spectral girls Maya thought she saw standing by the road, during the overnight bus ride.

The evil vibe Anwar establishes right from the start only deepens as he reveals the details regarding the curse plaguing the town. Karma kills and tragedy compounds—brutally. Arguably, Anwar’s storyline is not blow-you-away original, but his execution is so skillful, he keeps the audience on pins-and-needles throughout every second and every frame. Like his previous horror film, the remake of Satan’s Slaves, Impetigore is straight-up terrifying.

NYAFF ’18: Buffalo Boys

The Dutch were something else, weren’t they, what with their windmills, tulips, and Indonesian colonialism. This movie will make then pay dearly for their Western imperialism, but it will use the conventions of the American western to do it. Two brothers and their uncle have returned from California to avenge their decimated family and kick some Dutch butt in Mike Wiluan’s Buffalo Boys (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Jamar and Suwo’s father tried to make peace with the dastardly Van Trach, but that worked out poorly for him and his Javanese village. Their Uncle Arana had a feeling that would happen, but he didn’t have time to say I told you so. He was too busy escaping with his infant nephews. As soon as they return, they get into trouble rescuing a village headman’s daughter from Van Trach’s Weinstein-esque henchmen. Naturally, that brings down the full Wrath of the Dutch (how about that for a title?) on their former hosts.

As a result, the three outlaws are particularly ticked off when they blow into Van Trach’s corrupt Dodge City. They even take rooms above the saloon, as they bide their time. As if matters were not personal enough, Suwo rushes headlong into some ill-advised fights to protect the headman’s other daughter, the tomboy fighter, Kiona.

Buffalo Boys is so blatantly trying to stoke resentment against the West, you would think it was produced by Jackie Chan. At times, it really wallows in the level of agitprop. Nevertheless, it needs to be stipulated Wiluan stages some terrific action scenes. The final shootout is a real smoker that can hold its head up with many classic gun fights. Naturally Jamar and Suwo are grossly outnumbered, but they are not necessarily outgunned. Plus, they are considerably more mobile, since the Dutch insist on wearing their wooden shoes.

Indonesian superstar Ario Bayu cuts the right sort of broad-shouldered figure for Jamar, but his glum brooding allows Yoshi Sudarso to frequently up-stage him as the more dashing Suwo. Yet, Tio Pakusadewo towers over both of them as grizzled old Uncle Arana. Frankly, Reinout Bussemaker is laughably sinister as Van Trach, but that is the sort of mustache-twisting villain a film of this degree of subtlety demands.

Wiluan produced Headshot and Beyond Skyline, so he obviously learned a thing or two about how action should look on-screen. Both those films are more fun than his directorial debut, but he still notches some highly distinctive kills. Unfortunately, the didactic soapbox statements are more likely to inspire dismissive laughter than woke revelations. Still, between the two, you can’t say the film doesn’t entertain. It is messy and prone to embarrassing finger-wagging, but still kind of fun. Buffalo Boys screens Sunday evening (7/15) at the SVA Theatre, as part of the 2018 NYAFF, so proost everybody.

NYAFF ’18: Crossroads—One Two Jaga

The police in Kuala Lumpur might make the far-left rethink abolishing ICE, because they make the bureaucratic agency look rather benign in comparison. KL cops are always happy to score a cheap collar, but on the plus side, they can be bought at prices most “undocumented workers” can afford. This is particularly true of the shamelessly corrupt Hassan, but not so much for his squeaky-clean rookie partner in Nam Ron’s Crossroads: One Two Jaga (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Sugiman and his sister Sumiyati were Indonesians working legally in Malaysian, but she sabotaged her status when she walked out on her exploitative employers (who hold her passport). Fortunately, Sugiman works for Sarip, a big wheel in Indonesian expat circles, who can smuggle Sumiyati home, for a specially discounted price.

Since Sumiyati is now a fugitive, Sugiman will have to keep her under wraps until it is time for her to leave. This is not a good time for cops to start snooping around Sarip’s garage-junkyard-whatever. Frankly, he has high-level protection to prevent that sort of thing, but Hussein something about the place just bothers Hussein. Sarip’s cop-hating son Adi is not exactly a moderating influence either.

Initially, Crossroads (the “One Two Jaga” refers to a local variation on the kids game “cops and robbers”) starts out very much like one of those these-people-are-all-inter-connected-in-ways-they-don’t-know-yet indie films that may have finally fallen out of fashion, but it builds to an explosive third act. Viewers can guess the general trajectory things are headed, but Nam Ron takes it deeper and darker than even experienced genre fans will expect.

Frankly, there is an additional sub-plot involving Filipino expats who skim from their boss’s regular police bribe money that easily could have been eliminated. Seriously, any of us could have told them that would end badly. On the other hand, the tension between Hussein and Hassan is electrically charged and really rather gutsy, given local sensitivities (it is worth noting one of his prior films remains unreleased).

Sugiman and Sumiyati are also acutely human characters, caught up in circumstances beyond their control. Ario Bayu and Asmara Abigail really look like brother and sister (such is their mutual good fortune) and they act like siblings with years of strained history together. Zahiril Adzim maybe broods a little too much for his own good as Hussein, but Rosdeen Suboh makes the roguish Hassan into an intriguing, multi-dimensional figure. He is not all bad and he is certainly not all good, existing in the gray areas, much like nearly everyone else in Malaysian society (or so the film seems to suggest).

Despite working towards a foreshadowed tragedy, Crossroads is quite compelling to watch. The subplots are not developed with equal thoroughness, but it is worth seeing the high caliber work of Bayu, Abigail, and Suboh, under any circumstances. Recommended for discerning patrons of naturalistic crime drama, Crossroads: One Two Jaga screens this Wednesday (7/11) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.