Strange and beautiful visions of badminton and dynamite greet us in this stubborn first feature, as heady as an old 80s hit. Like an old, over-sung song, such as Stevie Wonder’s ‘I just called to say I love you’, which, to everyone’s surprise, an old dentist in dark glasses (blind or star?) suddenly hums, leaning over his patient, at the start of the film, after a tunnel of haunting, dreamy sequences. The film continues, and it’s hard to tell what it’s all about, but Edwin’s images never leave you alone, and then it comes back again and again: ‘I just called to say I love you’. Even footage of riots on an editing table. Despite its bizarre title and flights of fancy, Edwin’s film evokes the painful plight of Indonesia’s Chinese minority. It does so gently, through the fleeting grace of half-dreamt scenes, flashbacks and wanderings that are not part of a narrative, but rather thrown in on the fly, as the wind blows. Edwin’s boldness and formal freedom seem to know no bounds, yet he paints a stifling portrait of his country.
Jean-Philippe Tessé
