Rain Chudori-Soerjoatmodjo – "Belkibolang" is a compilation of nine short films and collected scenes created by young, up-and-coming Indonesian directors. The title – a slang abbreviation for a common phrase used to describe Jakarta traffic, "Belok kiri boleh langsung" ("If you want to turn left go directly") – is meant to evoke the endlessly wide open and roundabout nature of the compilation's overarching theme, Jakarta at night.
"The project started when Rico Marpaung made 'Planet Gajah' and Saleh made 'Full Moon,' and I suggested we weave them into a bigger film under the theme nighttime in Jakarta," said Meiske Taurisia, one of the producers behind "Belkibolang."
The compilation film premiered at the 12th Jakarta International Film Festival last week and is scheduled to be screened at several international festivals.
The short films are all set during a single hot Jakarta night. Each short features an interaction between two characters and focuses on the strange situations one might get into while prowling the city after dark.
As a subject, the Jakarta night is vast, yet these microcosmic slices of the capital serve as the only string that connects all nine short films.
The directors were all free to offer their own interpretation of the capital at night, a freedom that resulted in more than a fair share of gritty, humorous and surprising scenes.
The shorts are arranged in a way that attempts to offer a seamless flow from one director's vision to the next. However, while some scenes stand out, others falter by not being that memorable. As a result, the film's flow occasionally founders.
The overall film tends to be at its best during shorts that capture the countless possibilities of a night in Jakarta. During these scenes we can feel the intensity of the connection between the characters and the city.
"Belkibolang" starts with Agung Sentausa's "Payung," a beautiful short depicting a walk in the rain shared by a man and a little girl.
The man is working class, tired and focused on the crushed cigarettes in his pocket; the girl works as an ojek payung (umbrella jockey), her hair wet, her clothes thin and clinging to her body and her skin tanned a deep brown from the sun.
During the pair's short walk we can see the juxtaposition of the two characters – the preoccupied man and the poor but happy girl.
The yellow umbrella acts as a roof connecting them both. The scene unfolds with a nice rhythm, though the short has a few minor editing flaws.
It has no dialogue, but a tinkling melody and the sound of the skips the girl takes through the puddles provide enough warm-hearted atmosphere to wash away the perpetual rain.
In "Mamalia," Tumpal Tampubolon successfully delivers perhaps the most unhinged short of the entire film.
It starts with a man vigorously suckling on a woman's breast until, unexpectedly, he passes out. The woman then rifles through his pockets, stealing his money and wallet.
From this simple plot, Tumpal is able to expand the short into a highly unusual exploration of raw human lust and spontaneity. "Mamalia" develops from a humorous look at the stupidity of animalistic desire to depicting the happiness of a mother and her daughter.
The segment closes in a captivating manner, with the innocent sound of a child singing in the night.
In "Tokek," Anggun Priambodo opts for the quiet of the night. The short opens with a man named Edwin watching a soap opera on television while working on his laptop and phone.
His wife sleeps peacefully on the bed beside him. Suddenly, there is a blackout. As the heat rises, so does Edwin's boredom.
We see him wandering around the dark room, calling his friend and speaking with slow, slurred disinterest and, later, eavesdropping on his neighbors making love. We see how the blackout brings into focus all the restless, repetitive and unimportant things we do in our lives.
The acting is natural and comforting and the plot is simple, but real enough to speak on different levels. Anggun closes the segment with an unexpected twist that acts as a wink and a nod toward the mundane nature of modern life.
Edwin's short, "Roller Coaster," starts in a hotel room with a man and woman splayed out on the bed.
The two, seemingly out of boredom, start playing with their saliva. The atmosphere is not at all erotic or suggestive, and we can sense the comfort level the two characters have in their relationship.
The woman confesses the real motive for bringing them there, and suggests that they undress and see each other nude, for in their long years of friendship this has never happened.
And so, the two friends blindfold each other and undress, the man clumsily feeling for the woman's buttons, and the woman scolding his blundering hands.
"Roller Coaster" offers a fresh look at the vulnerability and awkwardness of the naked body and the curiosity and longing we all know too well.
The segment plays out slowly and beautifully, carried along by the character's uncertainty. The theme of Jakarta at night shows the possibilities that can be achieved by examining small slices of humanity and life.
These filmmakers have captured a Jakarta that is often overlooked – a silent Jakarta, a forgiving Jakarta, a beautifully boring Jakarta that offers up a soft, poisoned breast.
It's these tales of happy prostitutes and naked friendships and lights that die out slowly that make us realize that, for all the hardships of living here, we will be happy to witness another sunrise in this sea of humanity that is Jakarta.