Softcore

Noel Vera

Nonzee Nimibutr's "Jan Dara" came out way back in 2001 and was
screened in Cinemanila in December the same year, after having made
the festival circuit through London, Toronto, and Vancouver, so it's
odd to find it having its Manila commercial run only now. Based on a
famous erotic novel published in 1966, Utsana Phleungtham's "The
Story of Jan Dara," it was considered unfilmable because of the
scandalously explicit sensuality. A relaxation of censorship
regulations and the determination of Nimibutr--who with his gangster
picture, "Dang Birely and the Young Gangsters," and horror
picture, "Nang Nak," has become one of the rising young stars in
Thai cinema--finally allowed translation of the novel to the big
screen.

It's about a boy named Jan Dara (Suwinit Panjamawat) in 1940s
Bangkok; his mother died giving birth to him and he's being raised,
in a manner of speaking, by his sexually decadent father Khun Luang
(Santisuk Promsiri). Actually, his father blames Jan Dara for the
death of his first and favorite wife, and only pays attention to him
long enough to give him the odd punitive lashing; Jan Dara in
response despises his father and his father's many sexual escapades
with the women in the household. Jan Dara soon grows into a handsome
young man (Eakarat Sarsukh), and starts noticing the women about him
as more than just the receptacles of his father's lust; he comes to
have his own share of sexual adventures, particularly with his
father's latest wife, the sophisticated, Westernized Khun Boonlueang
(a spectacular Christy Chung). Jan Dara is banished for a rape he
did not commit, is exiled for a few years, returns to take over the
household and assert his authority over even his father, and
ultimately becomes what he once beheld with such hatred.

The film sounds interesting in outline, but the actual execution is
wanting. The initial premise--that father hates son with a passion,
and vice-versa--is established vividly enough, but when Jan Dara
grows old enough to develop his own passions, the narrative gets
lost in an endless series of lovemaking, photographed in amber light
and soft focus for a beautifully arty sheen. Perhaps the most
memorable sequence in the picture--and admittedly one worth the
price of admission--is Khun Boonlueang's seduction of Jan Dara,
involving an extremely hot day and an ice cube. It's leisurely
paced, but the languor--the sense that the woman feels little
urgency--creates an electric friction with Jan Dara, who is nothing
but urgency; when things come to a head, the conclusion is so
unexpected (and beautifully timed) that you can't help but laugh.

"Jan Dara" is amply filled with the bountiful, luxurious softness of
flesh; what's missing is the skeleton, the spine of a coherent plot.
We see Jan Dara undergoing all these changes to his status and
sexuality, but we never get a clear picture of exactly what he
thinks of the changes; he's always an eager and rather passive
accomplice to whatever acts or ideas are suggested by whoever
happens to be in front of him. Everyone else is equally
underdeveloped: Khun Luang is unfailingly malevolent; Khun
Boonlueang unceasingly languid; Aunt Waad (Wipawee Charoenpura), Jan
Dara's adoptive mother, unrelentingly good-hearted; her daughter
Khun Kaew (Patharawarin Timkul), sworn enemy of Jan Dara,
unwaveringly hateful. Not enough time is spent on showing us the
inner workings of these characters, not with most of the running
time squandered on showing the outer workings of their various
copulations; you might say that in this case, unlike what F. Scott
Fitzgerald once wrote, action isn't character, it's window dressing.

It's the same problem Nimibutr had with "Dang Birely" (not so much
with "Nang Nak," since the story was so simple): the window dressing
(gang violence, horror, sex) overwhelmed the narrative. A pity,
because you can see where the movie--and, presumably, the novel-
wants to go (not the necessary steps taken to actually go there): a
multigenerational epic about the sins of the father and their
consequences visited upon the innocent son. Add the beautiful cast
(Christy Chung being a standout), and Nimibutr's skill at evoking
hothouse sensuality, and you should have something: if not great, at
the very least impressive and involving. As is, the charms of the
flesh, though plentiful and varied, tend to pall, and the hints of
something more--of unsettling relationships and unruly passions
seething under all that glossy melodrama--tend to make the picture
all the more frustrating for what it fails to achieve.

Some critics have compared this to what is generally considered the
ultimate erotic art film, Nagisa Oshima's "In The Realm of the
Senses." Actually, I've seen humble "pinku" shorts with more
characterization and narrative coherence (though admittedly less
ambition), and even films here in Manila that are sensually superior-
-Laurice Guillen's "Init sa Magdamag" (Midnight Passion), for
example, a discourse on the dangerous nature of female sexuality and
the ability of women to use passivity as a lure; and Peque
Gallaga's "Scorpio Nights," a no-holds-barred, no-holes-barred crash
course on how to choreograph, edit, and shoot wild sex (I actually
prefer "Scorpio" over the better-known "In the Realm," because the
former has something the latter doesn't--a sense of tense
desperation, of defiance, of literally fucking in the face of
death). Both Filipino films aren't just object lessons in tight-
budget, rapid-fire filmmaking (shot in under a month and for a
fraction of "Jan Dara's" budget), they're examples of strong scripts
(in "Scorpio's" case not even a script, but a great idea) with big-
balls sexuality that teeter on the edge of--what? Church
condemnation? Government censorship? Discovery of sensual
territories undreamt of by supposedly prudish Filipinos? Nimibutr
should be taking down notes.

(First published in Businessworld, 8/20/04)

(Comments? Email me at noelbotevera@...)