Review: Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap (2022)

 

93/100

I entered the cinema watching Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap (translation: Pervervid and Tasteful) with a very low bar in mind, and reasonably so. Comedy is one of the hardest genres to do in this day and age, where cheap jokes make up an entire film, littering the cinema with unimportant popcorn films. Deep in my heart, I was sure this would be good; I set my bar low partially just to not ruin the beauty of the film, not wanting my expectations to level the film and thus make it bland.

I couldn't get off my seat until the credits stopped rolling and the curtains readjust to their default location. When I eventually exited the cinema, there is this heavy feeling I got. Because the film did not just exceed my expectations, it hit me. There is a kind of weight in films like these, genres that I thought were long dead. I've never seen a crowd that is as enthusiastic in unison as the crowd I was with watching Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap, and having watched little comedies of this year thus far, I am sure this will be in among my top films of 2022.

As someone from the province, North Sumatran cinema is truly sad. The industry here lacks progress, and the documentary niche that is growing is still failing to reach mainstream demands. Before a 2019 nomination, the last time this province saw a Festival Film Indonesia nomination is the 1960s. Meanwhile, I think many of us, Indonesian or foreign, are going through a familial dilemma of culture clashing with autonomy. Above all else is family, and sometimes the struggle to balance the two can be frustrating. Many films of recent years have tackled this issue, and many have done a great job, but they still leave a scar. Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap does not provide closure, but it does provide the torches leading us to that closure.

To many, as I and many others have observed, the film transcends Bataknese in-jokes cracked by boomers while drinking, and connects all of us together, regardless of cultures and religions. If this film goes to international festivals, I'm sure it will reach many more people. It may feature local rural locations, but North Sumatra becomes a symbol for home to many. The film utilizes the family archetype: a mother and father who demand that their independent sons go home, by faking divorce in hopes that they would rush. But writer-director Bene Dion Rajagukguk took the concentration on those archetypes, and made them the primary building block of the story. This is feel-good done well, wherein the feel-goodness empowers the film to a huge extent. Everything here is so lively, that it's almost unbearable. But isn't life unbearable? Without us thinking about it, the film portrays reality so well, despite stepping into surreal territory here and there.

The film became all the more surreal when I realized that I know the location depicted and have been there. Lake Toba, a supervolcanic lake recognized globally. What others won't understand, however, is the significance that Lake Toba holds. Pre-pandemic, we used to go there for Christmas holidays, and the cold water and breeze makes of a good place to think of good times. Lake Toba itself owns a legend, where a fisherman marries a mermaid who gave him a son. When the son accidentally learns she is a mermaid, he runs away from the family, and the mermaid cries a lake of water: Lake Toba. What Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap provides is not alike, but it does evoke a very strong familial theme: that family is love, and love takes on many shapes, and that is fine. It is a message that can only be outreached effectively through film and had not been... until now.

Soon, as I got more attached to the screen, the speedy opening, sometimes-inconsistent sound design, and sometimes-dim cinematography becomes a very distant afterthought. As the title suggests, it is a truly perfervid yet tasteful film. Beneath the layer of a plethora of stomach-hurting jokes, lie a plea for contemplation projected to the extreme, vibrant colors and punchy music aiding the personal and relevant story. The Bataknese cultural references appear whenever needed, and so it becomes like the moon to sea: the tides grow during a full moon because of huge gravitational forces. You can't see it, but once it is there, it comes rushing into you. All of this, of course, revolves around a very generic and cliche idea, but ideas don't matter. The execution is so good, I find it hard to believe anyone came out of the cinema feeling not even a shred of joviality radiated off the projector.

What I found greater in Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap is how everything is meticulously thought of despite its independent nature. Aside from the awkwardly-positioned subtitle translating Bataknese to Indonesian, I was surprised as to how organically seamless the editing is. It puts its subjects, even the most distant ones, in focus, as if attaching the characters to their nature, only cutting whenever needed. One-shot scenes are frequent but not overdone, but when it appears, the seriousness is nailed perfectly. I felt like a part of the family, because I am part of such. All the things uttered and expressed hit straight into my heart. At its darkest, the camera never exaggerates movement, but its stability speaks 1000 times more.

There is a very famous painting depicted in Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap, and that shot is the highlight of my experience. Just three seconds of seeing that painting alone make my heart melt in a variety of ways, and that's what Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap excels in. Show, don't tell. You may tell here and there, but if you show us what you are trying to say, you'd be surprised as to how many people you can touch. In Bataknese comedy, as seen in the film, comedy is very reflective and self-reflective, because comedy in itself demands reflection. Even at its darkest, the film continues cracking jokes, because they shine and rain our world. Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap packs all those feelings in 104 minutes swimmingly, and it is truly a subtle masterpiece.