Open Screen, a programme of experimental short films, will be shown at the MAIELIE contemporary art museum in Khon Kaen, from today until 16th November. The screenings are organised by the Thai Alliance Project Space and Berng Nang Club, as part of the Open LABs exhibition (which runs from 16th October to 30th November).
TAPs describes the Open Screen project as “an uncensored screening space for films and videos”. The first programme runs from 18th to 31st October. Highlights include a mini retrospective of films by Vichart Somkaew — Cremation Ceremony (ประวัติย่อของบางสิ่งที่หายไป), Antipsychotics, 112 News from Heaven, The Poem of the River (บทกวีแห่งสายน้ำ), and The Letter from Silence (จดหมายจากความเงียบ) — and Patipat Oakkharhaphunrat’s short film Black Hole.
The second programme runs from 4th to 16th November. The standout film from this selection is Happy New Year, Stranger (สวัสดีปีใหม่ คนไม่รู้จัก), by Chatchawan Thongchan.
The third programme runs from 19th to 30th November. The highlight of this final lineup is Warat Bureephakdee’s Crazy Soft Power Love.
TAPs describes the Open Screen project as “an uncensored screening space for films and videos”. The first programme runs from 18th to 31st October. Highlights include a mini retrospective of films by Vichart Somkaew — Cremation Ceremony (ประวัติย่อของบางสิ่งที่หายไป), Antipsychotics, 112 News from Heaven, The Poem of the River (บทกวีแห่งสายน้ำ), and The Letter from Silence (จดหมายจากความเงียบ) — and Patipat Oakkharhaphunrat’s short film Black Hole.
The second programme runs from 4th to 16th November. The standout film from this selection is Happy New Year, Stranger (สวัสดีปีใหม่ คนไม่รู้จัก), by Chatchawan Thongchan.
The third programme runs from 19th to 30th November. The highlight of this final lineup is Warat Bureephakdee’s Crazy Soft Power Love.
Cremation Ceremony
Cremation Ceremony, which resembles a video installation, begins with the faces of three politicians staring impassively at the viewer. The three men — Anutin Charnvirakul, the current Prime Minister; Abhisit Vejjajiva, a former PM; and former army chief Prayut Chan-o-cha — are associated with three tragic injustices. Anutin oversaw the Thai government’s initially sluggish response to the coronavirus pandemic. Abhisit authorised the shooting of red-shirt protesters in 2010. Prayut led the 2014 coup, and his military government revived lèse-majesté prosecutions.
Vichart sets fire to photographs of the three men, their faces distorting as the photographic paper burns. There is no sound except the crackling of the flame. This symbolic ritual is a reminder of the deaths of Covid-19 victims, red-shirt protesters, and political dissidents, though it’s also a metaphorical act of retribution, as the three politicians have faced no consequences for their actions. (Anutin is a billionaire, Abhisit was cleared of all charges, and Prayut acted with total impunity.)
While the three portraits burn slowly, captions mourn the forgotten victims: red-shirts shot while sheltering in Wat Pathum Wanaram, political prisoners charged under article 112, and victims of the coronavirus. (Cremation Ceremony originally ended on a hopeful note with a final caption explaining that pro-democracy parties had “emerged victorious” in the 2023 election. But after the film’s release, the progressive Move Forward Party was excluded from the governing coalition, and the optimistic caption has now been removed.)
Vichart sets fire to photographs of the three men, their faces distorting as the photographic paper burns. There is no sound except the crackling of the flame. This symbolic ritual is a reminder of the deaths of Covid-19 victims, red-shirt protesters, and political dissidents, though it’s also a metaphorical act of retribution, as the three politicians have faced no consequences for their actions. (Anutin is a billionaire, Abhisit was cleared of all charges, and Prayut acted with total impunity.)
While the three portraits burn slowly, captions mourn the forgotten victims: red-shirts shot while sheltering in Wat Pathum Wanaram, political prisoners charged under article 112, and victims of the coronavirus. (Cremation Ceremony originally ended on a hopeful note with a final caption explaining that pro-democracy parties had “emerged victorious” in the 2023 election. But after the film’s release, the progressive Move Forward Party was excluded from the governing coalition, and the optimistic caption has now been removed.)
112 News from Heaven
112 News from Heaven juxtaposes news that’s broadcast every day with news that goes unreported by mainstream outlets. On the soundtrack, an announcer reads a bulletin of royal news, a daily staple of Thai television and radio. This is contrasted with captions documenting news of “victims of the Thai state”. (Cremation Ceremony used a similar technique, with captions honouring victims of political injustice.)
Lèse-majesté is article 112 of the criminal code, hence the title 112 News from Heaven. The film’s captions feature 112 headlines from a 112-day period, detailing the custodial sentences given to those convicted of lèse-majesté and the bail denied to those awaiting trial. It ends with a quote from a royal walkabout: “We love them all the same.”
It might seem an unusual comparison, but film’s structure recalls D.H. Lawrence’s novel Sons and Lovers. The bulk of that book describes the misery of the protagonist’s life, though it ends on an unexpectedly uplifting note: “He would not take that direction, to the darkness, to follow her. He walked towards the faintly humming, glowing town, quickly.”
Can the book’s final few optimistic sentences negate the oppressive narrative of its previous 500 pages? Or does the apparently hopeful ending represent a false dawn? The same questions are raised by 112 News from Heaven, in relation to the state’s attitudes towards political dissent. Again, there is a similarity with Cremation Ceremony, in which a litany of injustices is followed by that optimistic final caption.
Lèse-majesté is article 112 of the criminal code, hence the title 112 News from Heaven. The film’s captions feature 112 headlines from a 112-day period, detailing the custodial sentences given to those convicted of lèse-majesté and the bail denied to those awaiting trial. It ends with a quote from a royal walkabout: “We love them all the same.”
It might seem an unusual comparison, but film’s structure recalls D.H. Lawrence’s novel Sons and Lovers. The bulk of that book describes the misery of the protagonist’s life, though it ends on an unexpectedly uplifting note: “He would not take that direction, to the darkness, to follow her. He walked towards the faintly humming, glowing town, quickly.”
Can the book’s final few optimistic sentences negate the oppressive narrative of its previous 500 pages? Or does the apparently hopeful ending represent a false dawn? The same questions are raised by 112 News from Heaven, in relation to the state’s attitudes towards political dissent. Again, there is a similarity with Cremation Ceremony, in which a litany of injustices is followed by that optimistic final caption.
The Letter from Silence
The Letter from Silence features extracts from letters by lawyer and pro-democracy campaigner Arnon Nampa to his family, written while he serves a prison sentence for lèse-majesté. Arnon’s letters are often heartbreaking, as he faces the prospect of many years in jail if convicted on further charges, separated from his wife and their two young children.
The film is silent, except for ambient sounds recorded at night in a quiet neighbourhood. It avoids the explanatory captions of 112 News from Heaven and Cremation Ceremony, instead letting Arnon’s words stand alone. This makes the film all the more powerful, and emphasises the hopelessness of Arnon’s situation.
The film is silent, except for ambient sounds recorded at night in a quiet neighbourhood. It avoids the explanatory captions of 112 News from Heaven and Cremation Ceremony, instead letting Arnon’s words stand alone. This makes the film all the more powerful, and emphasises the hopelessness of Arnon’s situation.
Antipsychotics
In Antipsychotics, Vichart turns the camera on himself. At the start of the film, the director reveals that he suffers from depression. In a voiceover, he describes his symptoms, which include hallucinations and feelings of paranoia. On screen, we see profiles of various antidepressant and antipsychotic drugs, and their possible side effects, accompanied by stock footage.
Vichart 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.
In Thailand, twenty-one-year-old men must take part in a draft lottery. Vichart picked a red ticket, which means two years of compulsory military service.
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.
Vichart 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.
In Thailand, twenty-one-year-old men must take part in a draft lottery. Vichart picked a red ticket, which means two years of compulsory military service.
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 Poem of the River opens with a caption describing “a Royal Development Project, costing 100 million baht” to dredge the water from the Lai Phan canal in Phatthalung. The film juxtaposes tranquil images of the canal and its verdant, fertile banks — including some beautiful drone photography — with footage of the dredging process.
Black Hole
Patipat’s Black Hole is a surreal black-and-white film in which a young son discovers that his father, a corrupt military officer, has sold citizens’ digital data for personal gain. The film links this family conflict with anti-military demonstrations in modern Thai history, with footage from 14th October 1973, 6th October 1976, and the recent student protest movement.
Happy New Year, Stranger
Chatchawan’s Happy New Year, Stranger opens with footage from 8th November 2020, when riot police fired tear gas to prevent demonstrators entering the Grand Palace to deliver an open letter addressed to the King. In a voiceover, Chatchawan explains that it was this protest movement that led to his political awakening: “This is where my political journey began... there were protests happening in 2020. That’s when I started to pay attention”.
This realisation of political consciousness is known in Thai as ta sawang, and several directors — Pen-ek Ratanaruang, Yuthlert Sippapak, Chulayarnnon Siriphol, Thunska Pansittivorakul, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, and Nontawat Numbenchapol — discussed their ta sawang moments in interviews for Thai Cinema Uncensored. But in the self-reflexive Happy New Year, Stranger Chatchawan does something unique: he uses the film to articulate his own personal questions about politics and the monarchy.
Most of the material in Happy New Year, Stranger was shot last year, at a vigil outside parliament calling for an amnesty for lèse-majesté charges, and at a New Year’s Eve street party outside Bangkok Remand Prison held in solidarity with lèse-majesté convicts detained there. At both events, live music was played, and in his director’s statement, Chatchawan describes these scenes as “a gift for political prisoners behind bars, allowing them to feel a sense of freedom.”
This realisation of political consciousness is known in Thai as ta sawang, and several directors — Pen-ek Ratanaruang, Yuthlert Sippapak, Chulayarnnon Siriphol, Thunska Pansittivorakul, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, and Nontawat Numbenchapol — discussed their ta sawang moments in interviews for Thai Cinema Uncensored. But in the self-reflexive Happy New Year, Stranger Chatchawan does something unique: he uses the film to articulate his own personal questions about politics and the monarchy.
Most of the material in Happy New Year, Stranger was shot last year, at a vigil outside parliament calling for an amnesty for lèse-majesté charges, and at a New Year’s Eve street party outside Bangkok Remand Prison held in solidarity with lèse-majesté convicts detained there. At both events, live music was played, and in his director’s statement, Chatchawan describes these scenes as “a gift for political prisoners behind bars, allowing them to feel a sense of freedom.”
Warat’s Crazy Soft Power Love is a satire on the government’s soft power strategy, culminating in a Songkran water fight that escalates into a brawl, intercut with footage from the 6th October 1976 massacre at Thammasat University. (Buariyate Eamkamol’s short film A Fire 9 Kilometers Away also contrasts a Songkran water fight with state violence.)
