Amir Muhammad talks about 120 Malay Movies

It was like having a Swensen’s Chocolate Earthquake sundae treat for old Malay film fans when writer and independent filmmaker Amir Muhammad made an appearance in Kinokuniya KLCC on Friday, 24^th September 2010. In conjunction with his new book, 120 Malay Movies, Amir held a short screening of some of the oldest Malay movies, as well as a book signing session.

Held at the Art & Design section on the mezzanine floor, not so many of his fans could make it because it was during working hours, but he managed to get the small section packed nonetheless, some had to stand by the bookshelves to watch the screening. Those who attended were of the younger generation in their 20’s and 30’s who, unless have read the book; have never even heard of most of these films until that day.

He explained how, just because of censorship, Malaysian films nowadays have changed tremendously. He started off by showing the audience a clip from the film Noor Islam (K.M. Basker, 1960) where a group of women, shoulder-bearing, were dancing in front of an idol in a form of worshipping. That was, at that time, the censored version. If it were today, the entire scene or even the entire movie wouldn’t have even seen the light of day. It was, however, censored not for the scanty costumes, but because the censors feared that it would offend Hindus; the film is about the coming of Islam into the Malay Archipelago, where Hinduism had first arrived.

Next Amir played a scene from the film Ribut (K.M. Basker, 1955). Ribut is the earliest film in colour still available today; Buluh Perindu (1953), an earlier colour film is apparently lost. From his book, it seems that Amir was more amazed at the colours of the film rather than the story itself; about a man who wants to marry a woman even though he already has a few.

The audience was then treated to a clip from one of Malay cinema’s first horror films, Hantu Jerangkung (K.M. Basker, 1957). The other and more famous one, Pontianak, is also lost. Before playing this clip, Amir made his own conclusion that “all old women are scary.” Luckily that remark was made just minutes before a sweet elderly lady walked in and joined me on the bench. If that film was made in 2010, it would probably get funny if not bad reviews. But in 1957, the makeup put on Zainon with her frowning face could be convincingly spooky.

From one horror movie to another, Amir moved on to Pusaka Pontianak (Ramon A. Estella, 1965), or, from the title, so it seems. It is actually a comedy of ten people fighting for $10 million from a deceased tycoon. All they had to do was survive four weeks in a mansion which, according to a letter from the tycoon, was haunted by a Pontianak. There was in fact no Pontianak at all in the film, just some bad guys trying to scare those people away. The younger generation could be delighted to finally discover where that “Pontianak… ji-bam ji-bam!” song they playfully sang during their childhood came from!

Clad in a kurta-ish styled shirt and khaki trousers, intelligent and highly respected as a Malaysian filmmaker, Amir Muhammad enjoyed saying the word “bulls***” into the microphone from time to time which made the audience crack into laughter every time, and had the people on the floor below looking up.

He then showed his audience a clip from Mat 3/4 (Mat Sentul, 1964). If moviegoers complain about the flood of slapstick comedies in Malaysian cinema today, they would react differently to this film. Although it was made 46 years ago, the clip was actually refreshingly hilarious. It showed news on television about an astronaut named Imam Murtabak Shah landing on the moon, and this film was five years before the actual Apollo 11 landing!

The final clip was from the film Dr. Rushdi (P. Ramlee, 1970), a Malay film where a woman stripped! Well, not really, it just showed her bare back during a medical examination. But, bare, nonetheless. Those who are good at reading between the lines could tell how sexual this film is, with cynical and double meaning references such as, “Kenduri dulu, doa kemudian ya? (You had the feast before the prayers, then?)” in regards to a pre-marital sexual intercourse. With a strict censorship board today, would writers even think of, or dare to write such a line?

Here we are, celebrating all these great old films and proud to call them our own when unknown to many, they were not exactly ours to begin with. The golden era of these films was between 1930s and 1960s with the competing Shaw Brothers and Cathay-Keris in Singapore. This was the era in which P. Ramlee and his friends shined the brightest. By the time Kuala Lumpur had the Merdeka Film Productions in the 1960s the fans have lost interest in Malay films. Therefore we should say that these are Singaporean movies and what have we?

Well, lucky for us, the Singaporeans are not as kiasu as we thought they were; they do not consider these films as theirs, for one reason or another. Maybe it was too Malay for their patriotism principle? In any case, at least the P. Ramlee films are still highly enjoyed by the people of both nations at present.

The older films, according to Amir, were destroyed during the Japanese invasion era, as if the robbery and physical torture were not enough to make their lives a living hell. Those unidentifiable films are lost, probably forever. But the films that Amir wrote about in his book, and maybe even more, are still out there. Therefore, if we have the slightest sentiment at all for Malay films, we should go out and hunt for them before it is too late.