On its 2009 release, Keramat emerged as a nerve-racking, definitive Indonesian horror film that capitalized efficiently on the mockumentary format that was booming at the time.

Thirteen years later, director Monty Tiwa has returned with a generationally relevant sequel in Keramat 2: Caruban Larang, as well as a newfound fascination for the cheap thrills of the past by bringing on board budding writer and B-movie enthusiast Azzam Fi Rullah. Nevertheless, the sequel seems headed for a different aesthetic.

Mystery Machine

In Keramat 2, Lutesha Sadhewa, Keanu Angelo and Ajil Ditto play a version of themselves as YouTubers who have been trying to build a following by exploring local mysticism since the late 2010s. This is indicated in the film’s blurry opening, which might make some viewers wonder if the film had actually begun.

At one point, Lutesha appears wearing a goofy pair of white contact lenses, or it could be visual effects, and then starts speaking in barely comprehensible Javanese into the camera. She then appears to leave the trio. It turns out that the supposedly possessed Lutesha was apparently uttering a prophecy, the relevance of which becomes apparent almost halfway through the film.

Post-breakup, Keanu and Ajil take on a new, almost obscenely named mantle, with Keanu seen to be quite hung-up about the name. The duo then starts out on their new venture, cruising around in an old van and hunting for mysteries like Scooby-Doo. The duo then finds a certain kinship with Umay Shahab, who joins them and in turn drags a trio into the fray: dance students Arla Ailani, Josephine Firmstone and Maura Gabrielle, all playing themselves, just like the cast of the first film.

Arla, Josephine and Maura’s interests are in line with the former trio’s, and they want to look into a long-forgotten dance in Cirebon, West Java. Meanwhile, Umay is trying to shoot a documentary and Keanu and Ajil are simply looking for more mysteries to uncover or play around with.

The film takes a darker turn when the group runs over a black cat with their van as they are returning from a beach at night. This scene is one of the many parallels the sequel draws with Keramat, in which the cast goes off-grid in the dark, albeit minus the supernatural presence. Umay insists on shrugging off the omen, and instead of burying the cat in a piece of clothing as in the customary way, he simply places the animal’s remains on the side of the road and drives away.

Taken, again

After a decent amount of bickering – which happens to be a plus for adding realism but is also a minus for being distracting – the group arrives at a rundown motel. More bickering follows. This sequence, however, begs an ounce of criticism: Whatever happened to Airbnb? Umay’s stance that the group stays at the motel is also strange, if not forced.

This motel is where the paranormal activities start to build. Ajil unexpectedly comes across a ghastly figure lurking in one of the rooms, and what appears to be a scorched arm reaches for the girls’ heads through the window behind them while Josephine goes live on Instagram to cry.

Afterwards, viewers won’t be able to help but keep looking, uneasily, for movements in the background through the rest of the film.

The next day, the group arrives at the titular sanggar tari (dance studio), Caruban Larang. The set feels genuine, unlike most local horror films featuring unnaturally dirty sets with little attention to detail. Terror subtly creeps in when the studio’s caretaker firmly, yet casually, forbids the group from opening one of the cases that are kept there.

The introduction of forbidden case teases a Pandora’s box scenario, but its significance only diminishes as the story progresses, with no curse seemingly unleashed by its opening. It does, however, set up a domino effect in which the group, with the members’ varied but temporarily aligned interests, start to shove new problems into the mix. They reach the point of no return only when Maura’s consciousness is apparently taken to another realm.

As above, so below

Unlike the first installment, Keramat 2 delivers more intense, albeit a bit more traditional, scenes with visible apparitions that slip quietly into the frame. In the abandoned hospital where Keanu and Ajil play jelangkung (a traditional spirit game), the scene in which Ajil silently tries to warn Keanu of the specter slowly crawling toward him is obnoxiously disturbing.

Additionally, Keanu’s presence as an unintended comic relief in distress is one of the things that really makes the film feel incredibly probable: that bad things can happen to the most unworried person in the room.

The chemistry of the ensemble cast is generally impeccable. Each actor delivers their lines naturally in an everyday manner, mostly due to the nonexistent script that left them ad-libbing throughout the shoot. The director is said to have used this technique for the first film as well, and it sometimes came off as too natural, so that it blurred the lines between the reality and the play for the actors.

While the group’s motive for going to the “other world” is relatively strong, the means by which they travel there comes across as a bit far-fetched, at least for viewers who are unfamiliar with the local rites. The incidences that happen to the group during their inter-dimensional voyage – such as Lutesha leading the group in walking backwards between a pair of boulders and a scene where they are supposed to walk past a group of people resembling Japanese soldiers and romusha workers – give off the sense of kids playing make-believe or taking on jurit malam (night exploration) challenges.

Nonetheless, the group is lucky to have a medium walking among them, unlike in Keramat, in which the cast painstakingly scrambles around without anyone to show them the way.

The scene where a grotesque hand suddenly sticks out from the ground holding a clue is so ludicrous and over-the-top, it has an almost B-movie quality to it.

It is also a bit disheartening how the director and writers decided to weave continuity between Keramat and its sequel, only to have Poppy Sovia, Migi Parahita and Sadha Triyudha running around for their lives and eventually failing to return to the world of the living.

Does time there work differently, or were they simply running around for 13 years? Is this a setup for a third installment in the franchise, or was it simply to preserve the legacy of Keramat?

Lutesha’s apparent involvement with the families of the first installment’s cast is also not strong enough to leave a lasting impression. In fact, it is fairly underwhelming if we recall how the film’s promotional team kept teasing that Lutesha’s character had a “hidden agenda”, presumed to be of a malicious nature.

Overall, Keramat 2 is a decent follow-up that holds its ground compared to the first. It is relevant to the social landscape of the current tech-savvy generation with a believable upgrade in terms of its high-def delivery, but this has sacrificed Keramat’s stripped-down aesthetics.

The feeling of “unboundedness” that comes from the cast’s delivery, however, deserves the brightest spotlight, as with the first film. Maybe just leave out the white eyes next time?

Keramat 2: Caruban Larang is in movie theaters nationwide.

Popular

Indonesia one step from Olympics after beating South Korea

Opposition weakens as rivals pledge support for Prabowo

Golden generation