During her introduction at the Sydney Film Festival, critic and (inter)national treasure Margaret Pomeranz told us that we have to like this film. Who are we to argue with Margaret? We’re not exactly David Stratton over here, despite our beardy leanings. Kamila Andini’s second feature, following The Mirror Never Lies, explores the way in which a child processes death using cinemas unique visual magic.
In rural Bali, 10 year-old Tantri (Ni Kadek Thaly Titi Kasih) is attempting to cope with the aftermath of an accident that has left her twin brother Tantra (Ida Bagus Putu Radithya Mahijasena) in hospital and unable to communicate. Yet as the moon waxes and wanes, Tantri find herself able to dance and play with her brother using shadowplay, costume, and song.
The notions of buncing (male and female) twins and duality more broadly appear throughout Balinese culture. With THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN (Sekala Niskala), writer/director Andini plays in the invisible line between Balinese mythology and reality. Indeed, as the narrative moves between flashback, fantasy and reality, it’s often difficult to discern what’s real and contemporary. In the mind of a child there is no difference, and to cinema audiences there is none either.
Mostly coming alive at night, it’s almost as if Tantra’s soul emerges to interact with his sister. Anggi Frisca’s stunning nocturnal photography captures this essence. Populating moonlit fields are abstract children dressed in white rolling past, enacting some primal dance. At other times, Frisca turns the camera completely upside-down while Tantri is hanging from a tree. There’s at least one perfect shot in which Tantri stands on a high platform in costume, her tiny silhouetted frame almost touching the full moon.
The young actors are phenomenal in their debut outing, especially Ni Kadek Thaly Titi Kasih, who must display the entire gamut of emotions on her journey to acceptance. “If only I could replace you,” she says. “I’m willing to feel the pain. I’m willing to be sick.” In the film’s final act, she uses leaves and branches to dress as a monkey, and only in this guise is she able to express her full unrestrained rage and anguish at having to let her brother go.
THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN is the kind of film that only comes along once in a while, where a movie reminds us of why we go for the movies. A lovingly told interrogation of emotion and grief.