This blog post examines the societal structure that elevates mass murderers to heroes and the hidden violence of power behind it, using the film The Act of Killing as a lens.
During the 1965 coup in Indonesia, the military regime secretly murdered over a million communists, intellectuals, and ethnic Chinese under the pretext of ‘anti-communism’. This tragedy, an organized state-sponsored massacre, left an indelible wound on Indonesia’s modern history. Forty years later, Anwar Kongo, the chief perpetrator of the assassination squad that led this massacre, is now revered as a national hero, living a life of luxury. Originally just a local thug, Anwar Kongo established himself as a powerful figure in Indonesian society by killing people and instilling fear under the guise of anti-communist purges. This rise to power is not merely an individual success story but reflects structural problems within the state and society as a whole, starkly revealing a dark facet of Indonesian society.
Despite recognizing that murder is wrong, they attempt to justify and rationalize their actions. Rather, they display a desire to flaunt their power and capabilities through murder. This attitude extends beyond mere self-justification, revealing a pervasive culture of violence and oppression throughout society. In this process, the heinous act of ‘murder’ becomes normalized, and a distorted social structure emerges where seizing power through such means is even justified.
The film The Act of Killing diverges from conventional documentary formats by telling the story from the perpetrators’ perspective, not the victims’. While this was an unavoidable choice given the victims’ silence, I believe it resulted in a documentary that is even more intense, bold, and exceptional. The director’s approach—asking the perpetrators of mass killings during Indonesia’s tragic history to reenact their own atrocities for film—effectively conveys the horrific reality of the past to the audience. Through the dramatic format of reenactment and reconstruction, the director poses the question, “What do you think about the things you did?” and guides them to answer it themselves.
Even during the filmmaking process, they showed no shame or remorse for their past actions. Instead, they displayed strength and cruelty, attempting to instill fear as if murder were their natural ability. Furthermore, they brazenly assert that they need not hide this behavior at all, citing the expiration of the statute of limitations, and declare themselves the victors. This reveals not merely an individual issue, but how deeply entrenched they are as socially accepted and justified entities.
Particularly striking is the scene at 43 minutes, where they are asked about their thoughts on another film covering the same subject. They complain that their portrayal in the film was demonic, insisting that while their own film must depict cruelty unflinchingly, it must also assert the legitimacy of their actions. This segment made me acutely aware of the immense power cinema holds to shape public perception, and it filled me with dread at the terrifying consequences when this medium is wielded with malicious intent. It made us reflect on how many media outlets have approached the public with such malicious intent, and how often we ourselves have been drawn in by them. As an artist, I even began to question what I was truly doing.
A scene airing on Indonesian state television appears midway through the film, providing a crucial turning point. Up until then, the focus had been on the perpetrators’ private conversations or reenactments. But in this scene, they boldly discuss their past actions in a public setting. Watching this, I felt like I’d let go of everything. Knowing the influence broadcast media has on the public, I was deeply shocked to see them openly justify their actions. I believe this aligns with director Oppenheimer’s intent in placing this scene in the middle of the film. That scene was the most shocking in the film and the moment my anger peaked.
The film is filled with the perpetrators’ cruelty and their victor’s thrill up until the midpoint. But in the latter half, Anwar Congo’s struggle during the filmmaking process—crying out he can’t do this anymore, watching the footage and realizing his own cruelty, and shedding tears—leaves a deep impression on the audience. He now retches in agony in the very space where he once innocently reenacted the events with a smile. This dramatic reversal reveals that they, too, possess a human side, evoking complex emotions in the audience. A long, drawn-out sigh was inevitable in this scene.
Yet, seeing them shed tears of repentance now, I felt confused about what emotions I should truly feel. They still live ordinary lives, perhaps even luxuriously. They are neither demons nor psychopaths. Rather, they were figures deemed natural within that country’s regime. Their atrocities stemmed not from inherently evil personalities, but from the societal backdrop and circumstances that produced them. Ultimately, The Act of Killing is not a film about exceptional, innate villains in history, but about the conditions and systemic violence that made such atrocities possible.
This film starkly exposes the dark side of power while critiquing the structural problems of the society we live in. Director Oppenheimer employed a highly clever directing approach to convey this message. Despite the passage of considerable time since the collapse of the Suharto regime, those who led the massacres are not only unpunished but are instead glorified as heroes. The organizations that carried out the killings have evolved into private military groups, now operating as formidable far-right militant organizations. In this context, the director shifts the focus away from the victims and toward the perpetrators, attempting an intimate investigation into the massacres of that time.
The film illuminates the process by which individuals who do not consider themselves villains come to realize their wrongdoing through reenacting the massacre, yet subsequently justify it again. This is an incredibly bold concept. Director Oppenheimer ultimately succeeded in capturing Indonesia’s tragedy through the lens of the victims. As the film unfolds from the perpetrators’ perspective, the director unfolds the story almost entirely from an observer’s viewpoint, largely excluding his own subjectivity. The use of archival footage or music, a key feature of documentaries, is thoroughly excluded. Instead, the role of archival footage is fulfilled by scenes showing them making the film.
This film adopts the form of an explanatory documentary in that it directly addresses real-world issues. However, unlike conventional explanatory documentaries, it lacks didactic or authoritative traits, making it, in some respects, a participatory documentary. The narrative unfolds solely through the perpetrators’ voices, with the director’s subjectivity excluded during the process of eliciting past actions through interviews. While this approach may feel highly ambiguous, I believe it is intentional.
Particularly, the perpetrators’ everyday scenes inserted intermittently felt puzzling. Even within ordinary routines, they display behaviors that seem to reveal cruelty. For instance, brushing teeth roughly, vomiting, or removing dentures to inspect teeth with pliers—these are everyday actions anyone might perform. Yet, when seen through others’ eyes, their actions clearly evoke repulsion. The director seems to use these scenes to instill a sense of rejection toward them in the audience.
Throughout the film, images of taxidermied animals appear intermittently. These are edited back-to-back with scenes of murder, making the stuffed animals evoke human figures. In this way, the director reveals his perspective and conveys the film’s intent to the audience through editing and direction, without using direct archival footage. This approach is highly original and makes the message the director seeks to convey even more powerful.
The Act of Killing is not a simple documentary. It is a work denouncing the violence, massacres, and their aftermath that occurred during the struggle to achieve political democratization. Indonesia’s past is not vastly different from our own. Our nation also endured a democratic uprising where countless intellectuals and union members were branded communists, tortured, and massacred. Indonesia’s situation was so eerily similar to our own society that it sent chills down my spine. Had our country not experienced its democratic struggle, our current society might not differ from Indonesia’s.
This film also reminds us how our society has changed and that historical issues requiring resolution still remain unresolved. If we fail to properly settle past wrongs, they will continue to hold us back and obstruct social progress. This film starkly reveals how deformed a society can become when the powerful monopolize authority and dominate it. Only constant checks on power and the courage to act with faith in social justice can be the sole alternative to preventing tragedy.
