APPRENTICE B
Singapore Germany
France Qatar Hong Kong
(96 mi) 2016 d: Boo
Junfeng
Following on the
footsteps of SANDCASTLE (2010), a nostalgia-driven Singapore debut feature film
opening up the nation’s history to public scrutiny, which felt overtly modeled
after the historical reflections of Hou Hsiao-hsien, who, it turns out, was one
of the director’s teachers at the Asian Film Academy, this is a smaller, more
measured film, premiering at Un Certain Regard at Cannes, taking on the subject
of the death penalty. Singapore has had
capital punishment since it was a British colony, and while the United Kingdom
abolished the death penalty, Singapore continues to rely upon long drop
hanging methods that were introduced by Britain in the latter stages of the
19th century. Between 1994 and 1998,
Singapore led the world in per capita executions (CNN.com
- Singapore 'top executioner' - Jan. 15, 2004), compiling shockingly high
statistics relative to its small population of just over 4 million people, three
times higher than the next country on the list, Saudi Arabia, where its drug
laws are among the world’s harshest, with anyone aged 18 or over convicted of
carrying more than 15 grams of heroin facing mandatory execution by hanging. While the executions are carried out in
relative secrecy, drug addiction remains a problem, with no convincing evidence
that the high execution rates curbed drug use in Singapore. Nonetheless, following the release of a
study, SINGAPORE The
death penalty: A hidden toll of executions - Refworld (pdf file), which emphasizes the cruel and arbitrary
nature of the death penalty and shows how it has been imposed on the most
marginalized or vulnerable members of society including drug addicts, the
poorly educated, the impoverished or unemployed, and migrant workers, the
country amended some of the death penalty laws and the number of executions
have slowed, where no one was executed in 2012 and 2013, only two in 2014, yet
according to a 2005 newspaper survey, 95% of Singaporeans believe that their
country should retain the death penalty. Viewed in this light, writer/director Boo
Junfeng has created a stunning morality play whose strongest asset is a
complete lack of artifice, taking viewers into the prison itself (using unused
prisons in Australia), developing a film from the perspective of the hangman
who pulls the lever, where Singapore is one of the last 36 nations to actively
retain the practice.
Working on the
film for five years, the director spoke to priests and imams who were with
condemned prisoners at their final hour, also families who lost someone to the
death penalty, but he also spoke to a few executioners who took great pride in
their work, especially the almost caring way they tried to make it as humane as
possible, always looking to perfect their craft. One of the starting points for the film is
the 2010 book Once a Jolly Hangman,
featuring an executioner (Darshan Singh) who worked in Singapore for nearly 50
years, once executing as many as 18 men in one day. The book’s release was so controversial that
the British author Alan Shadrake was arrested the morning after the book’s
release and held in Changi prison (ironically the sole prison of executions)
for a month, charged with contempt of court for insulting the country’s
judiciary as he criticized the way the death penalty was disproportionately
applied to the poor, while criminals with financial resources or wealthy
foreigners escaped execution. While this
film is largely a character study, at the center is a former soldier Aiman (Fir
Rahman) who is now a 28-year old corrections officer, seen shortly after he’s
transferred to Larangan Prison, the nation’s exclusive maximum security prison
that houses Death Row inmates, and the site of their executions. For Aiman, he appreciates the uniform and the
adherence to discipline, similar to the army, where he’s attracted to the idea
that prisoners can improve their lives, at least those who want to change. He’s living with his older sister Suhaila
(Mastura Ahmad), where the two share an impoverished history of being apart
during childhood, yet she has an Australian boyfriend that may be her ticket
out of the country, something Aiman is less than thrilled about. At work, he’s a stickler for details, always
going by the book, where he builds a reputation for competence and self-motivation,
though he’s a man of few words. He draws
the attention of white-haired Rahim (Wan Hanafi Su), the facility’s elder chief
executioner, who’s interested in developing a replacement team equipped to
handle the responsibilities, as Singapore (neighboring Malaysia as well)
utilizes execution by hanging, where justice is delivered by pulling a
lever. Aiman needs a higher security
clearance just to enter this section of the prison, curiously proclaiming
himself to be an orphan on the application.
As he witnesses Rahim in action, standing by as an assistant, one gets a
sense that this is a highly personal endeavor, as the prisoner meets with his
executioner the day before in his prison cell, where the executioner reassures
him “I’m sending you to a better place.”
On the final walk to the death chamber, led by prison guards, the
prisoner again comes face to face with the executioner, who leads him into
position, tightly placing a noose around his neck, where positioning makes all
the difference. An execution done right
will immediately break his neck, “quick and painless,” which is viewed as the
most humane method.
Like the
execution ritual, the film itself is a precision of choreography, a series of
repeated movements, where in order for the system to work properly, these
routines must be exactly adhered to, where there’s no margin for error. Aiman seems to keep his thoughts in order in
much the same way, never revealing his interior mood, every action planned and
deliberate, yet the film allows the audience to see what no one else sees,
slowly accumulating a series of revealing details about his secret inner
sanctity. While the overall mood is a
picture of restraint, there are occasional moments that offer other ideas,
never revealing what’s behind those moments until late in the film, where a few
hidden surprises come to the surface, yet remain closely contained
secrets. This repressive interior
atmosphere is rigorously developed, constructed like a piece of well-crafted
architecture, suitable for this exact moment in time, completely in balance
with all relevant issues. While the
overall mood of the film is a picture of restraint, there are occasional
moments that offer other ideas, feeling completely out of place, never
revealing the disturbing truth behind those revelations until the precise
moment when they have the most dramatic effect.
Tense, often surreal, there are plenty of twists that lie ahead, but
most all occur within the framework of a prison compound, with enlightening
views of the siblings at home, where despite their occasional differences, they
are intrinsically close. Humanistic in
every sense of the word, the film takes great pains to get at what lies beneath
the exteriors, where the performances are all excellent. Rahim is impressed by Aiman’s moral outlook,
believing his inner calm fits the position, as he’s not one where the moment is
ever too great for him, as he’s reliable and dependable. Yet something unravels, where what’s supposed
to happen and what will happen are on a collision course of mandatory obstacles
in the way. Aiman calls his sister
reporting a life-changing dilemma known only to them, revealing a part of their
history that can never be undone, which may, in fact, be the fabric that holds
them together. “I know you’ll make the
right decision,” she assures him, “You always do.” In the annals of film history, there have
been extraordinary films made on the subject of capital punishment, where two
of the best remain Kieslowski’s A SHORT FILM ABOUT KILLING (1988), an expanded
sequence from his masterful The
Decalogue (Dekalog) (1988), and Stanley Kubrick’s exquisite PATHS OF GLORY
(1957). Few films match their greatness,
but this film at least adds to the discussion.
