In this blog post, we will examine how Adi’s pursuit—through the lens of ‘The Act of Killing’’s narrative and documentary techniques—exposes the perpetrators’ arrogance and societal amnesia, and what it demands of the audience.
- Film Overview
- Reasons for Selection and Personal Background
- Strengths and Documentary Techniques
- Prologue and the Initial Question
- Introduction: The Connection Between Questions and Scenes
- Main Body: Confrontation, Reenactment, and the Clash of Memories
- Conclusion: Apologies, Regret, and the Landscape Left Behind
- Formal Analysis
Film Overview
Genre: Documentary / Country of Production: Denmark / Director: Joshua Oppenheimer.
Synopsis: Amid the memories of the 1965 Indonesian military regime’s mass killings, the name “Ramli” became synonymous with the massacre itself. This was because he was the only documented death witnessed amidst the secret disappearance of millions. Many people had to live in silence, pretending not to know despite their knowledge, and the name “Ramli” became a symbol of silence and oblivion. However, 50 years later, his younger brother “Adi” begins to seek out the perpetrators who killed his brother and confront them about the events of that time. The perpetrators speak of the brutal acts they committed with surprising confidence and pride. The film captures a story from human history that is both profoundly quiet and cruel—one in which “death” exists but “accountability” is absent.
Reasons for Selection and Personal Background
After my military discharge, I was uncertain about my career path, so I began working under a teacher I had met during my college days. He was a unique photographer who did not strictly divide the boundaries of his profession. He never defined his specific field, saying he could be a documentary photographer, a fine art photographer, or an experimental filmmaker at times.
I traveled all over South Korea with him. One day, we ate kimbap while waiting for a Korean Teachers and Education Workers Union protest in front of Seodaemun Prison; another day, we climbed a mountain path where a protest against power transmission towers in Miryang was taking place; and I also visited the site of the No Gun-ri massacre. Those experiences felt like a kind of journey to me, yet they were a time unlike any ordinary trip.
During one conversation, he spoke highly of Joshua Oppenheimer’s ‘The Act of Killing’, saying, “We need more films like this in South Korean cinema.” That remark piqued my curiosity, so I sought out that film, and subsequently watched his latest work, ‘The Look of Silence’.
One memory that came to mind while watching this film was a scene from a TV documentary where perpetrators who had been soldiers during the May 18 Democratization Movement were being interviewed. At the time, the perpetrators claimed they were merely following orders from their superiors and were therefore not guilty, while others said they could not forget the faces of the victims. These statements shared similarities with the attitudes of the perpetrators seen in ‘The Look of Silence’, which added to my interest in the film.
My initial purpose in watching this film was simply to enjoy it, but through documentary analysis, I sought to examine in depth how the film addresses the 1965 massacre and from what perspective.
Strengths and Documentary Techniques
At the center of this film is the protagonist, Adi. An optician by trade, he approaches the perpetrators who killed his older brother, Ramli, under the pretext of fitting them for glasses. This setup serves as a device to naturally facilitate interviews with the perpetrators and functions as a dramatic device to draw out the truth.
This setup resembles the character development and narrative progression seen in fictional films. Combined with observational and participatory elements from documentary styles, this approach presents the events more objectively yet with greater intensity.
In particular, as interviews—a key element of participatory documentary—blend with classic narrative film techniques, the audience becomes confused as to whether they are witnessing a simple interview or a staged scene involving cinematic devices.
However, the camera soon reveals its relationship with the filmmakers, shifting to an observational style that clarifies the boundary between fiction and documentary.
The scenes in which the perpetrators proudly testify to their crimes are deeply shocking. Their defiance and claims of innocence starkly highlight the absence of “responsibility,” evoking moral outrage and complex emotions in the audience.
While this approach to scene development shares similarities with Jafar Panahi’s style, it also exhibits distinct differences. These similarities and differences are what make the film all the more intriguing.
Finally, this analysis will create a breakdown table summarizing the film’s key scenes and techniques to systematically examine its structure and message.
Prologue and the Initial Question
The prologue begins with a portrait of an elderly man. The face of the man, wearing corrective glasses, is shown, and in the title sequence, small beans resembling coffee beans bounce around, creating a sense of “silent gaze.” The movement of these beans is repeated as a metaphor for various scenes and emotions throughout the film.
A figure named “Adi” appears on the TV screen. We see him watching an interview in which he sings about the murders committed during the Indonesian military regime and answers questions about how Ali Sumito was killed in Sukasari. The audience soon begins to wonder how this scene connects to the old man and what it is trying to convey.
As dump trucks approach a dark mountain valley, a narration caption recalls the events of the 1965 military regime, implying that the forces of that era still retain some power today. In the same vein, a mother’s narration revives memories of her son, “Ramli.”
In the shower scene, everyday footage of the mother bathing her infirm husband is interwoven with an explanation of how “Ramli’s” death continues to linger in their lives. This raises the first question: Why did “Ramli” die?
Introduction: The Connection Between Questions and Scenes
The scene shifts to an elderly woman adjusting her glasses in the courtyard of a house. The protagonist, who had been watching TV earlier, asks questions about the events that took place in Aceh in 1965 and the Communist Party. In this way, the film juxtaposes personal curiosity with historical inquiries.
In the scenes set along the Snake River, we see ‘Adi’s’ daughter playing with his work tools and glasses while his son watches, and at his parents’ house, we glimpse a simple moment where the protagonist asks his father to sing a song. The lyrics of his father’s song are connected to the film’s overall mood.
The scene in the forest where ‘Adi’ listens to his mother’s story about his deceased older brother reveals family memories and personal pain. Instead of a response, the scene cuts to the protagonist doing a handstand alone in an empty room, emphasizing the void between question and answer.
Archival TV footage (sources: NBC documentaries, etc.) dredges up the brutality of the military regime era. Everyday images—such as a man cleaning a building, children watching others play in the water at a park, and kids learning distorted history and ideology in a classroom—contrast sharply with the documentary’s harrowing narrative.
As innocent children at a playground are intercut with the horrific narration—“When the generals refused to sign, they gouged out their eyes with razor blades”—the audience witnesses how distortions in education and memory are passed down through generations. Later, “Adi” tries to convey the truth to his son by telling him that what his teacher taught him is a lie.
Main Body: Confrontation, Reenactment, and the Clash of Memories
Reenactment and Guilt
In this section, the perpetrators’ acts of reenactment appear repeatedly. In an interview, “Adi” states that people like him reenact the murders they committed in the past out of guilt. Scenes of the actual reenactment of the killings are shown in parallel with the characters watching them.
In the archival footage, “Hasan” and “Inong” reenact the moment of the execution and explain their roles. The scene where a real knife is prepared for the sake of realism creates a moment where the boundary between reenactment and violence blurs. ‘Adi’s’ face as he watches this reenactment reopens old wounds.
Meanwhile, scenes of his mother cutting fruit or dust and insects inside the house visible through the frame suggest that everyday life and trauma coexist simultaneously. These seemingly trivial images echo the cruelty of the event and piece together fragments of memory.
Confronting the Scene
The scenes at the site unfold as ‘Adi’ and his family personally seek out the perpetrators and survivors. Meeting ‘Kmat,’ a survivor from the Snake River, and searching for the spot where Ramli was stabbed raises the question of why the past must be dredged up again.
At ‘Inong’s’ house, there is a scene where the protagonist tries to fit ‘Inong’—who keeps a monkey—with glasses. The protagonist asks about the Communist executions, but ‘Inong’ vehemently denies them, citing his appearance in Joshua Oppenheimer’s film, and even makes the shocking statement that he drank the blood of those he killed to keep from going mad.
The scenes where the perpetrators are met reveal a variety of reactions. “Amir Shiahan” takes pride in his actions, denying or justifying the military intervention. “M.Y. Barun,” a spokesperson for the local council, is reluctant to revisit the past, while the prison guard—who appears as an uncle—shifts blame by claiming he was merely following orders.
During these confrontations, “Adi’s” family, particularly his mother, is deeply shaken. The mother’s reaction upon first learning of her uncle’s role illustrates how individual memory connects to the structure of collective violence. The father, suffering from dementia, either cannot recall the incident properly or is confused by it.
Landscapes such as the village scenery, the bridge by the river, and the village bonfire provide a sense of the physical setting of the incident. Adi confronts memory and reenactment in these places, observing how family members and villagers accept or reject this experience.
Meanwhile, small scenes from daily life—such as the daughter and son discussing picking their teeth in front of a bean, or the mother placing a bean in her hand and whispering, “When will I see you?”—appear to be attempts to transform brutal memories into everyday symbols or rituals. The bean soon becomes a signifier that evokes “Ramli.”
Conclusion: Apologies, Regret, and the Landscape Left Behind
In the conclusion, the complex attitudes of the perpetrators and their families are revealed. Some perpetrators have lost their memories or are in a state of confusion, while the families of others convey apologies on their behalf. One perpetrator’s daughter apologizes to “Adi” on her father’s behalf, and “Amir Hassan’s” wife also apologizes on her husband’s behalf.
However, even with these apologies, the lingering shadows of the incident do not easily fade. Horrific details—such as the testimony that the perpetrators took the head of a woman they had executed to a Chinese shop to intimidate people—are brought to light again, and some perpetrators boast about their actions or deny responsibility. One even claims to have drunk the blood of those they killed to keep from going mad.
Insects flying around the house, a room covered in cobwebs, and the sight of insects clearly visible outside the house visually demonstrate that this memory still permeates daily life and the physical space. The father’s dementia and confusion, along with the mother’s endless questions and waiting, reveal how personal trauma persists.
The epilogue-like images—the perpetrators posing for a photo and making a V-sign in front of the Snake River, the mother touching beans while calling out for Ramli, and the motorcycle heading toward the dump truck—raise questions even after the film ends: How is it possible to recover memories, hold people accountable, and achieve reconciliation?
This film is not a simple reconstruction of events. Through scenes where individual memory and communal history, perpetration and victimization, apology and denial intersect, it reveals the lingering shadow of power and the persistence of trauma. The audience comes to understand this complex web of relationships through the details of each scene—the old man’s glasses, the spilling beans, the knife of reenactment, the mother’s whisper.
Formal Analysis
Upon first viewing, I got the impression that various documentary genres were blended together. Images typically found in poetic documentaries—such as the image of beans moving inside like larvae—run through the early, middle, and late parts of the film, functioning as key devices for conveying its message.
Elements of participatory documentary are revealed through direct observation of the protagonist “Adi’s” daily life and the interview footage he watches on TV. However, a key difference is that rather than the filmmaker interviewing the subjects directly, the narrative is driven by an observer’s perspective centered on “Adi.” In other words, filmmaker Joshua Oppenheimer functions as a link connecting “Adi” and the interviewees, rather than intervening directly on screen.
Taking this structure as a whole, the documentary closely resembles a blend of performance documentary and observational documentary. Rather than a direct intersection of the filmmaker’s subjectivity and the subjects’ inner worlds, it gives the impression that Joshua connects “Adi” with other characters, while the camera records the conflicts and expressions that arise within those connections. It exhibits formal characteristics that could be described as an observational performance documentary.
In conclusion, the film’s theme revolves around the issues of responsibility and memory surrounding the 1965 massacre on the Snake River during Indonesia’s military regime. The narrative centers on the protagonist “Adi” meeting the perpetrators in person and repeatedly asking them the same questions.
The reason this repetition does not feel tedious is that while the perpetrators all live under similar ideologies and offer similar excuses, the content of those excuses differs subtly. Some tell him not to bring up politics anymore, while others mention “Adi’s” hometown, implying the possibility of retaliation. Still others cite their positions as publicly elected officials as justification.
There are also ironic moments. The protagonist’s uncle, for instance, flies into a rage when someone insults him, blurring the lines between perpetrator and victim and creating a complex situation. Conversely, the film’s conclusion features scenes where the perpetrators’ families—rather than the perpetrators themselves—appear to ask “Adi” for forgiveness, and these scenes leave an even stronger impression.
Ultimately, this documentary leaves us with the question of who is responsible. The perpetrators’ denials and evasions, along with the scenes of apology delivered through their families, reveal a reality where the subject of responsibility has become ambiguous, prompting the audience to directly contemplate the issues of memory, forgiveness, and accountability.