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‘Sekala Niskala’ What grief means to a child

Serene: Tantri stares at the camera in a chicken-like costume in one of Sekala Niskala’s most arresting scenes

Stanley Widianto (The Jakarta Post)
Jakarta
Sat, March 3, 2018 Published on Mar. 3, 2018 Published on 2018-03-03T00:43:50+07:00

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Serene: Tantri stares at the camera in a chicken-like costume in one of Sekala Niskala’s most arresting scenes.

Kamila Andini’s Sekala Niskala (The Seen and Unseen) is a languid exploration of grief through the lens of a child who’s slowly losing her twin sibling.

One Balinese folk story tells the tale of Kala Rau, who is beheaded by Vishnu for drinking tirta amerta, a drink meant for the gods and goddesses to ensure their immortality — certainly not for a demonic giant like him.

Immune from decay, Kala Rau’s head travels and meets with Dewi Ratih, the lunar goddess. He swallows her, but she escapes unscathed. As her body enters his, the moon darkens — the lunar eclipse beckons.

A Balinese child, Tantra (played by the stoic Ida Bagus Putu Radithya Mahijasena) retells this story with shadow puppets in a hospital bed while a tumor eats away at his brain, his life. The moon outside is pale — the light it beams is not generous. His twin sister, Tantri (played by the spectacular Ni Kadek Thaly Titi Kasih) listens, counting his days.

Grief plays an important role in director/writer Kamila Andini’s second feature film, Sekala Niskala (The Seen and Unseen), executive produced by her father, renowned director Garin Nugroho.

Grief topples balance, and it’s especially excruciating for the twin sibling who will grow older. But in choosing languid rumination over dramatic flair, Sekala Niskala makes for one terrific and evocative examination of grief. Cries are replaced by ritual Balinese dances or bird costumes; shrieks are contained.

Since the movie is anchored, wonderfully, by children, you’d have to presume innocence: Tantri’s muted response to her brother’s illness perhaps communicates a lack of understanding. But the movie doesn’t concern itself with that — of course, Tantri’s grief is just as potent as her parents’ (the mom played by Ayu Laksmi).

And her grief is mired in fantasy. Sekala Niskala is light on plot; while the cameras are trained on Tantri, the film plays like a series of dream sequences. The night is Tantri’s friend, where her grief takes shape in dances or dirges.

Mother and daughter: Tantri’s mother gives her a bath. Director Kamila Andini and cinematographer Anggi Frisca make great use of Balinese imagery throughout Sekala Niskala

When the film is pulled back into reality during the day, you can see grief telegraphed the way you would associate it with: crying, turning to false hopes. This is especially true for the twins’ parents. You see images of Tantra being carried on a gurney, a doctor attending to his needs. Life is different as the moon appears.

Sekala Niskala is also one of the most gorgeously shot films I’ve ever seen in my life; I could freeze each frame and look at it every day. My compliments to cinematographer Anggi Frisca — who in shooting images of Balinese life without resorting to poverty porn, ensures the film’s respect of its culture. What is a marvel to some is perhaps just another Monday or Tuesday to the locals.

The eerie score, courtesy of Yasuhiro Morinaga, never intrudes on the film’s slow proceedings and neither does Ida Ayu Wayan Arya Satyani’s brilliant choreography.

Sekala Niskala, which will hit theaters nationwide on March 8, is Kamila’s follow up to the similarly-themed The Mirror Never Lies, where death also presides over its characters.

But to have it preside over the lives of twin siblings, it takes on a sadder, deeper register. The film’s avant-garde technique should make grief seem opaque, but through a child’s eyes, the emotional impacts are all the more powerful.

In Sekala Niskala’s most moving scene, Tantra lies motionless in his bed. Tantri puts on a monkey-like costume. She dances profusely. Then she occasionally nudges her twin brother. Not getting the response that she wants, she thrashes about the hospital room. We, the audience, are led to believe that this is her fantasy. But then she stops. She lies next to him, knowing just like the rest of us that his days are numbered, knowing just like the rest of us that the moon won’t show up anytime soon.

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Sekala Niskala

(Tree Water Productions, Fourcolours Films; 86 minutes)

Director-writer: Kamila Andini

Cast: Ida Bagus Putu Radithya Mahjiasena, Ni Kadek Thaly Titi Kasih, Ayu Laksmi, Happy Salma.

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