

Antipsychotics
The director also recounts the traumatic experience that he feels led to his condition: the humiliating hazing rituals and violent punishments he endured during his conscription. “I drew a red card and was drafted into the military service”, he says, before describing the physical and mental harm he was subjected to.
There have been occasional news reports of cadets being injured — and worse — during military training sessions, though there is less coverage of the potential psychological toll that Vichart describes. At the end of his powerful and ultimately optimistic film, he argues that conscription should be replaced by voluntary service.

The Poem of the River
The effect is similar to Koraphat Cheeradit’s short drama Yesterday Is Another Day, in which scenes set in a woodland are interrupted by shots of a JCB digging up the area. The Poem of the River has also been shown at the Chiang Mai Film Festival 2025 (เทศกาลหนังแห่งเมืองเชียงใหม่ 2568), and at the Isan Creative Festival 2025 (เทศกาลอีสานสร้างสรรค์).
The Poem of the River’s next screening will be on 25th September, in the Tales from One Earth (เรื่องเล่าจากโลกใบเดียว) programme at the Mekong-ASEAN Environmental Week 2025. The MAEW screening will take place at the Mae Num Phorn restaurant in Nakhon Phanom.

When My Father Was a Communist
When My Father Was a Communist is also a record of the state’s violent suppression of communist insurgents, hundreds (potentially thousands) of whom were burned in oil drums in 1972. These so-called ‘red barrel’ deaths were most prevalent in Phatthalung, and have never been officially investigated. (The names of the victims are listed before the film’s end credits.) There have been other documentaries about the red barrels, but When My Father Was a Communist stands out for Vichart’s close connections to the subject: this is a deeply personal project, as he was born in Phatthalung, and he is documenting the memories of his elderly father.
When My Father Was a Communist was screened last month in Korat, Songkla, and Hat Yai. It was shown in Phimai, Phattalung, and Bangkok earlier this month. It had four screenings on 10th August: in Chiang Rai, Chiang Mai, Sakon Nakhon, and Nakhon Phanom.

From Forest to City
In part two, comparing the 6th October 1976 massacre at Thammasat University to the present day, the narrator regrets that Thailand hasn’t changed: society remains irreconcilably divided, between student protesters and the conservative establishment. Although the film is black-and-white, there are two flashes of colour: a red folding chair, and a yellow t-shirt. Thanks to Neal Ulevich’s famous photograph of a man beating a corpse with a folding chair, this single item of furniture has come to symbolise the entire Thammasat massacre. The yellow t-shirt in an otherwise black-and-white shot recalls Chai Chaiyachit and Chisanucha Kongwailap’s short film Re-presentation (ผีมะขาม ไพร่ฟ้า ประชาธิปไตย ในคืนที่ลมพัดหวน), in which the yellow t-shirts worn by monarchists are the only objects shown in colour.
In part three, From Forest to City switches gear with a documentary montage of various dramatic episodes from modern Thai history: the Thammasat massacre, armoured personnel carriers demolishing red-shirt protest camps, riot police firing water cannon at students in Siam Square, and Arnon Nampa’s Harry Potter-themed protest. In an echo of Prap Boonpan’s sadly prophetic short film The Bangkok Bourgeois Party (ความลักลั่นของงานรื่นเริง), a yellow-shirt mob is seen attacking a pro-reform protester. The montage of news footage is set incongruously to รักกันไว้เถิด (‘let’s love each other’), a Cold War propaganda song whose lyrics call for national unity.
From Forest to City was also shown in Phatthalung last year. It was screened at Bangkok University in 2023, and in that year’s online Short Film Marathon (หนังสั้นมาราธอน).



