The Act of Killing left a bad taste in my mouth and continues to do so, and I had trouble pinpointing why until I read this, and I wonder if you wouldn't mind reading it and giving your thoughts:
http://www.popmatters.com/feature/1...-how-not-to-get-conned-by-a-charming-madman3/
[spoil]My problem is that ultimately, the entire film hinges on whether or not you believe Anwar experienced some kind of epiphany or self-realization by Oppenheimer's methods...I am extremely skeptical that he did. And if he
didn't, the film feels like little more than 2-hour glorification of or pandering to a monstrous killer. Time that, I felt from my own personal standpoint, would have been better spent learning about the actual atrocities and the victims instead of watching gangsters and murderers play dress-up.
Then again, I only saw the movie once upon release, so maybe I should revisit it and see if I feel the same way.[/spoil]
Ms. Dadras' article is certainly interesting reading, and she could be right. I find her theory plausible but not convincing. Plausible in that Anwar may be a master manipulator who outsmarted Oppenheimer, but I just don't buy it, primarily on cultural grounds. Let's start with this quote from her essay: "One answer is that the secret of Anwar’s success is his ability to tap into our – and Oppenheimer’s – desire for recognizable narratives of cinematic redemption; that is, films that validate our deeply held belief in the power of stories and their ability to illuminate, in this case, the entanglements of history, guilt, and truth in the horror-show of post-‘60s Indonesia." She then extends her theory by including Anwar's supposed similarities with Nabokov's Humbert-Humbert, a child molester of such guile he is able to "use the language of law, psychoanalysis, and romantic literature to convince his reader of the morality of his relationship with the pre-teen, Lolita Haze." This is an elaborate argument, one that I think would be lost on Anwar, entirely. I don't get a sense that any of those guys are exactly movie buffs or gifted in matters of literary and cinematic analysis. Anwar may have been taping into something, but I certainly don't think he was tapping into, or likely even aware of, "our...desire for recognizable narratives of cinematic redemption; that is, films that validate our deeply held belief in the power of stories and their ability to illuminate...'. To me this seems very much like a Western academic placing thoughts in the consciousness of an Eastern man who probably has very different views on narrative, if he has any views at all. Likewise I really don't really see the connection between Anwar and Nabokov whose way with words beggars the abilities of not just Indonesian assassins but all of us. As tricksters playing with the audience go, Anwar on the wiliest day of his life and Nabokov on his least persuasive are not remotely in the same league. In short I think Ms Dadras is applying a very Western way of analyzing what she thinks is going on that an Eastern man, especially of Anwar's years, might perceive dramatically differently.
Ultimately, a measure of doubt must remain, although, I suppose, that is always the case. I think a better measure of determining Anwar's sincerity, the extent of his epiphany, though, may be to find out what his actions have been since taking part in the film. Has he continued to show signs of remorse or regret? Has he spoken further about his experience? Has he given any indication that his feelings are anything other than what he portrayed in the documentary (quite convincingly as far as I am concerned). Actions would speak louder than theories in this case, though, ultimately the insights the movie provides are really not just about him.
Several of the Indonesian mass killers are interviewed. Most show no signs of regret at all. The one with the best command of English states quite calmly and clearly that he sleeps like a baby at night. The other killers show no real remorse either. By showing remorse, does Anwar risk losing face, something that might be more important to him than manipulating a sophisticated Western narrative? If so, that is taking a risk, too, is is not? Especially given the extent of his reaction. PTSD among Western soldiers who have served in combat occurs with frequency. Is not possible that in Oppenheimer bringing these memories back up to Anwar's consciousness, he might not experience something similar to guilt for what he had done. Or that with time and age, his defenses about his actions no longer held the comfort of certainty that they once may have possessed. I don't think his reaction in the film is beyond the bound's of being human. Perhaps it is a lesson of what happens when one stops trying to be human. Will I ever know for sure? No, but he convinced me that his epiphany was very real at the moment we were observing him.
If it is a question of Western story telling, it is the right ending as far as I am concerned, because ultimately I believe that the scariest thing about the world's mass killers is not that they are monsters, but that they are human. For one to recognize his humanity does not absolve Anwar of his crimes. But it does show that to perpetrate great suffering upon others, to divorce yourself from those acts, to justify to yourself that those acts are necessary, can only be done at the expense of one's own humanity. That realization in no way equals the suffering of their victims, but it is not nothing either.
