Autobiography (2022) Skillfully Evoked A Sense of Terror In Audiences' Mind

**SPOILER**

No matter how miniscule, power is an intoxicant for all humans, and tends to corrupt — as Lord Acton famously noted — particularly when wielded by the unscrupulous.

Tales of the dangerous effects of power have been depicted in various stories throughout the years; a particularly iconic one is George Orwell's Animal Farm. In the 2020s, I found yet another example of this theme in Ruben Östlund's Triangle of Sadness, where the character Abigail is given authority. These stories, in one way or another, demonstrate that any form or amount of power is like a drug to its holder.

In this article, I will be discussing power and its related issues through an analysis of Makbul Mubarak's debut directorial feature film titled Autobiography. This widely-acclaimed film has earned numerous awards and accolades, and the world has taken notice - yet I will not be focusing on these triumphs. Instead, I am interested in the discourse being presented through this cinematic work.

Autobiography offers a variety of issues in a story about the relationship between  an ex-general and his housekeeper. Some of the particularly interesting issues to discuss are the strong father-like and paternalistic relations, as well as the excesses of the military power of the New Order (Orde Baru). 

I am deeply impressed by the debut film of Makbul Mubarak, a work that is both thought-provoking and visually captivating. The narrative is complex, with a number of layers to be explored, and it is beautifully constructed, resulting in an absolute masterpiece.

In Autobiography, Rakib (Kevin Ardilova) finds himself in an unexpected role when his father is sent to prison - working in the home of a retired military veteran, Purna (Arswendy Bening Swara). Despite the employer-servant relationship, Purna treats Rakib as if he were her own son, expecting Rakib to see her as his father. But Rakib struggles to adapt to Purna's narcissistic and enigmatical ways.

When I beheld Makbul Mubarak's tale of the bond between an enigmatic figure and a young clueless boy, as presented by Purna and Rakib, what I witnessed was nothing short of astonishing — transforming a simple story into a gripping and intense narrative.

Makbul Mubarak skillfully evoked a sense of terror in my mind via a straightforward narrative of Rakib's transition to being Purna's aide, a prior general who ran for mayor. This story, which speaks to a trauma familiar to many Indonesians, slowly evolved into a profound allegory that reached into multiple aspects of life, leaving a lasting impression on me.

Makbul successfully portrays the relationship between Rakib and Purna as a father-son dynamic (bapakisme), with the leader-subordinate dynamic taking the form of a family. Purna is not a mere employer, but rather a father-like figure to Rakib. He managed to effectively capture this relationship throughout the film, and even more impressively, he was able to weave it into a captivating viewing experience with no need for any supernatural elements.

Throughout his time at the helm of the New Order regime, Soeharto adopted a "bapakisme" approach to leadership. Mirroring the values of patriarchy and paternalism, he envisioned himself as a "father" figure, bestowing guidance, provision, and protection on his 'children' — a role that expected unswerving obedience and respect.

Rakib's introduction to Purna was slow and subdued. To Rakib, Purna seemed like a powerful presence, one who could provide a sense of security and special status to those who followed him. Although a sense of safety filled the air, I felt a strange sense of unease, as if Makbul was implying something bigger and darker about Purna. 

Rakib's reality was becoming even more bizarre as he witnessed his so-called 'father' massacring Agus for demolishing one of his campaign billboards. The narrative of a loving father and son had morphed into one of captivity, and Rakib desperately sought to get away - but Purna's authority held him captive. In a matter of moments, Purna had gone from a blessing to a curse for Rakib, transforming his life into a living hell. 

It's plain to see how damagingly powerful a person can be when they're in the wrong hands. 

For Lord Acton's oft-cited words, "Power tends to corrupt," Rakib's behavior in this movie serves as a perfect illustration. Before Purna gave him authority, there was no indication of corruptness. However, as soon as he was given a taste of power, Rakib felt the urge to use it to his advantage, even if it was something as small as asking Agus to pick up pebbles that were in his way.

In the film's third act, Rakib's endeavor to liberate himself stands as a generation's attempt to reject the wrongdoings of their predecessors. This reminded me of activists who rallied against Soeharto for the destruction he caused. While this analogy cannot be precisely made, Rakib's intentions appear to be analogous to those of the activists who were frustrated with the corruption of the New Order during that period.

Through the lens of Autobiography, the evolution of Indonesia's social and political climate is readily apparent — even in the present day, paternalism remains a prominent feature of its leadership structure. This tendency to blur the lines between a professional and personal relationship often results in a sidelining of genuine expertise. One particular example of this is the case of Purna, a retired soldier who still wields a considerable degree of power within the army, an occurrence known as post-power syndrome.

In this film, not only does it tackle the issues of patriarchy, but it also deals with the consequences that linger after the New Order era's militarism. The character of Purna reflects this, as his narcissism and control mirrors the rule of Soeharto. Even to this day, there are still people in the military and police that think of themselves as superior to civilians, often referred to as "Kaum Halodek" or "Orang Berseragam", and while some just come off as overly narcissistic, there are still cases of violence that occur due to this misplaced sense of power.

Audience may become acquainted with Purna's oppressive tactics, such as the closed-off approach he takes to perpetrate violence against Agus. Though no one knows for sure, except Rakib, who's responsible for the misfortune of Agus, but it's assumed the death is connected to the contentious coffee land dispute involving his mother. This inevitably leads me, and likely the audience, to remember the Gerakan 30 September (G30S) and the abhorrent human rights abuses that ensued. At the behest of Soeharto, the Indonesian government began kidnapping, detaining, and torturing civilians suspected of having connections to the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) and communist ideology. Despite the Indonesian government's attempts to pin the violence on livid citizens, the real perpetrators behind it were the state itself.

Autobiography serves as a reflection of the harsh realities of Indonesian history within the confines of a two-hour runtime, a litany of tragedies and travesties is presented very well. For some, the title of the movie serves as an autobiographical portrayal of the nation's story, while for others, it functions as a biopic of an corrupt figurehead of the nation that I have previously discussed.

This cinematic opus, Autobiography, is essential viewing, reading and consideration for me. It skillfully combines diverse matters with fictional techniques like satire, allegory and oxymoron, delivering the outcome in a consumable format. If the themes addressed captivate you, then this film is exactly what you need.