BETTER late than never, goes the adage, so I’m relieved that I’ve finally watched Malaysia’s much-acclaimed first crowdfunded film, Pendatang, which has emphatically won my admiration.
The movie’s makers certainly deserve all the accolades for their willingness in tackling the subject of race relations in Malaysia.
They have also chosen to release it online to navigate past our censors as well as to make it accessible to as many people as possible. It has garnered more than 400,000 views on YouTube in just four days after its release and the numbers are climbing.
The film reportedly received over RM400,000 in donations from 600 Malaysians with more than RM300,000 sought by the studio. So, making money wasn’t the main reason behind Kuman Pictures doing this movie.
Most Malaysians would choose to avoid sticky and sensitive subjects, and race relations has been one of them for far too long.
It’s practically taboo and only finds voice in hushed tones. There’s a distinct demarcation not to be crossed and constructive discussions are nearly impossible.
There’s excessive self-censorship in the mainstream media because we fear the potential backlash and controversy which could put us in a pickle with the authorities.
There’s also an abundant supply of operatives from political parties who enjoy lodging police reports to create hype and flex their muscles with their scare tactics.
Keeping it real, despite our praises, Pendatang is unlikely to be a box-office hit because it doesn’t have a de rigueur commercial storyline.
Moreover, it’s in Cantonese and the audience demographic is predominantly Malay, as far as local viewing is concerned.
And by the time it goes through our stringent censorship board, there’d barely be anything left to watch. Arguably, that’s the perception Malaysians have of our censorship board.
Pendatang (or immigrant, a derogatory term used to describe other races apart from Malays) is a dystopian movie depicting a fictional setting.
A small accident leads to Malaysia’s diverse society being torn apart and a referendum conducted, where the three main races – Malays, Chinese and Indians – choose to stay exclusively within marked borders.
The Malaysian ringgit plunges, and Sabah and Sarawak decide to leave Malaysia. Martial law is declared with an 8pm to 8am curfew.
There’s a 25-year jail penalty for anyone engaging in interracial contact, but for the Wongs, the ethnic Chinese family’s nightmare begins when they relocate to a Chinese-only settlement.
Their new home is a kampung house previously owned by a Malay, and the shock for them is finding a scared Malay girl – who was presumably left behind – hiding in the attic.
Should they pity her and treat her as part of their family and risk breaking the law? That’s the predicament the family faces.
Relatives, friends and colleagues find themselves segregated with security governed by forces from their respective ethnic groups.
By now, Malaysians should realise that those who exploit race and religion are the worst of the lot as they include the powerful elites who are corrupt and hypocritical. And this is the movie’s message.
Wong Kin Seng, the family’s breadwinner, seeks employment at a furniture factory, but realises the boss interviewing him is the advocate of the referendum to divide the races. However, he requires a driver to send his stocks to the border to sell to the Malays.
He sports a smirk and tells Wong that even though everyone is now segregated, he still needs to do business with other races, and that “life must go on.”
The racist, corrupt Chinese security officer, who eventually shoots the businessman for betraying his race, also finally does the same – sell the furniture to the same Malay man, but with a marked-up price.
He’s hardly the hero the Chinese expect, protecting his own race as he continually demands protection money, which he calls “donations.”
The Malay businessman who wants to sell to the Indians, also uses the phrase “life must go on” to justify his need to break the segregation law.
The film-maker has managed to tackle the concerns of race in a tasteful manner without being seen to champion or demonise any one, choosing, instead, to show that all races have their good values of sympathy and forgiveness, and their bad points of prejudice and extremism.
More importantly, for the children, they just enjoy each other’s company, reminding us of our own childhood, where we never saw racial differences until we grew up. In a nutshell, no one is born a racist.
The many comments posted online, especially among the Malays, have been positive with suggestions that the issue of race should also be covered from the Malay and Indian perspectives, with calls for sequels even.
Of course, there are also the predictable nasty comments, but that’s expected of the online world. Ironically, some of these come from those who haven’t even watched the movie.
It’s commendable that Malaysia’s National Film Development Corporation Malaysia (Finas) chairman Kamil Othman has called for the movie to be screened at schools, to invite discussions, and dismantle deep-seated perceptions and prejudices, adding that it’s a small step towards a desired destination.
This writer can’t agree more. We need to have more rational and moderate voices and not allow those who advocate race and religion division to dominate the narrative. The negative campaign of “us vs them” with imagined threats must end.
Spend the hour and a half watching Pendatang if you haven’t already. Malaysia needs more of these movies. After all, our plurality is about the beauty in our diversity.
