Radhiyya Indra, Jakarta – Setelah Lewat Djam Malam recontextualizes the story of a man disillusioned by Indonesia's post-revolution society with gender sensitivity and compelling performances.
A casket was one of the first things audience members saw as they entered the Graha Bhakti Budaya stage at Taman Ismail Marzuki, Central Jakarta. A picture of a man, looking sturdy and rigid, was displayed, and next to it a funeral bouquet.
Soon, Indonesian actor Reza Rahadian entered the stage.
"Iskandar was a revolutionary soldier in his time, but no document recorded his legacy. He was forgotten; just another lieutenant," he spoke of the man in the picture to the audience. "We shall remember him now."
Reza and other big names from the film industry, such as Lukman Sardi and musician Sal Priadi were performing a play called Setelah Lewat Djam Malam (Beyond the Curfew), inspired by the 1954 Indonesian film Lewat Djam Malam (After the Curfew) by the late Usmar Ismail, father of Indonesian cinema. The film is a highly regarded classic, being the first Indonesian film to be restored by several film associations and screened at Cannes Film Festival in 2012.
Publicly screening on Dec. 2 and 3, The Jakarta Post watched the exclusive performance for guests on Dec 1. The buzz this play generated was excitingly high: It was produced by revered local-theater Teater Garasi from Yogyakarta and KawanKawan Media production company, backed by the Education, Culture, Research and Technology Ministry.
"This film is an important pillar of Indonesian cinema [...] its aesthetics and theme are very important," producer Yulia Evina Bhara said during a press conference on Nov. 24.
Despite the classic status, the play faced two challenges upfront: Many Indonesians had never seen the film before, and times – the culture, technological advancement and sociopolitical situation – have also changed since the 1950s. How important is the story to be told now, on a theater stage?
Untold stories of women
Beyond a simple remembrance of Usmar Ismail's moving story about Iskandar, an ex-soldier in Indonesia's post-revolution era, Setelah Lewat Djam Malam dug deeper into the women in his life – Iskandar's fiancee Norma and a prostitute named Laila, "owned" by his friend Puja.
The original film tells the day-in-the-life story of Iskandar after he was discharged from the armed forces. Pressured by his potential father-in-law, he looks for work. During that time, he meets his wartime friends and realizes that he might not have fought for the right causes during the revolution.
Iskandar spends his time going around town and trying to avoid the curfew. Meanwhile, his fiancee Norma prepares a party for him, trying to be understanding but helpful regarding his indifference toward social life.
Laila, beyond her work as a prostitute, is a woman full of dreams and a victim of domestic violence by her ex-husband.
The original film does an excellent job of humanizing these women beyond simple characters, but the play pushes that element further.
These changes are done subtly. In the film, Norma asks Iskandar if he still loves her. Iskandar, a brooding yet gentle figure, claims that his return is already a show of love for her, to which Norma smiles. In the play, however, Norma – played gracefully by Kelly Tandiono – is not as easily swayed.
"Is that so? You haven't even asked how I'm doing [since your return]," Norma replies to Iskandar.
Norma's father also pushes the couple to marry soon. When the original film's dialogue comes to a close, in the play, Norma additionally queries her father, "What's the good of rushing to get married if one is not ready?" she asked.
The added lines highlight the women's voices previously unheard and unquestioned within the original film. Comparing the two based on their sociopolitical takes might be unfair given the time differences, but the play did peel off a new layer of stories for the audience to know.
Laila – questioning men's control and dreaming of a better world for women – was already a characteristically "feminist" figure in the film. But she was even more outspoken about her beliefs in the play.
"Puja thinks I'm the only one who needs him, but he depends on me," said Laila, played with compelling emotional specificity by Dira Sugandi onstage. Laila lives in Puja's home, and he lives off her prostitution fees. Instead of focusing solely on Iskandar's struggle, the play puts gender dynamics at the forefront of the story.
Reza Rahadian's monologue before the play stated that Setelah Lewat Djam Malam is about "who we should remember and what we must remember". As the story ended with Iskandar in the casket, the audience finally knew that these two women also deserved our attention, and their stories did not end there.
Theater at its best
The creative team's answer to the question of relevance is not only in the script but also in technicalities. As if aware of the current generation's media saturation, the production introduced a "cross-media" experience: A double showing of film and play.
"We agreed to have this film as a dialogue between media – film, play and others, like the medium of the body, music, etc.," said director Yudi Ahmad Tajudin during the press conference.
The film and play intertwined like they were the same. The classic movie was projected on a big screen, on six massive rectangles divided into three columns in a two-story set. The movie moved from one screen to another, playfully changing as the actors reenacted the film's scenes and carried them further.
It was a beautiful performance of our current actors on stage and past actors on screen – projected, plastered, inter-stitched, sequencing between 1950 and 2022. One minute you see A.N. Alcaff as Iskandar in the original film lamenting about his job to Puja; the next thing you know, Reza and Sal Priadi are the ones saying the lines. Things became more interesting as the actors spoke head-to-head with the past actors projected on a moving post, making them more alive.
The cross-media play also smartly presented a collage of what Laila was collecting. As she opened her book, bursts of cutouts of women in various occupations from LIFE and other magazines jumped out on the screen. It was a fantastic spectacle because it vividly presented Laila's hopes and dreams.
The original Lewat Djam Malam was already filled with music in specific passages, but the play utilized it even more. Musical numbers for Iskandar's first job scene, with the other coworkers dancing around and ridiculing him, showed Iskandar being out of place – or, more specifically, being put into place.
The cast also featured phenomenal singers. Dira Sugandi shook the stage when she sang Laila's songs – a remarkable feat even to match the character's original Indonesian actress Dhalia. Reza sang his heart out after being fired from the job ("What else should I do? Everything has changed") and bore a resemblance to A.N. Alcaff's Iskandar.
But the musical aspect works beyond just voicing what was already implied in the film: The duets between actors create a new context for the play. In a tender duet, Norma and Laila talked and connected in their scene together, unlike in the film. With her domestic-abuse history, Laila asked why the fiancee wanted to proceed with the marriage.
"Isn't that just the norm?" Norma asked; they then broke into a wistful harmony, singing about searching for happiness and paying for it with love. If the original film is a monumental cinematic achievement of Indonesian cinema, then the play is a radical, powerful retelling of its source story.