In the Northeastern province of Khon Kaen, a young man returns home from Bangkok and the ghosts, dust, dreams and unrequited romance of his past visit him. Meanwhile, the television reports on the convulsive riots in the capital fuelled by, among other things, the bottled hurt and long-locked anger of the Isan populace.
Utane Sririvi, left, and Seree Phimpa in In April The Following Year, There Was A Fire .
Wichanon Somumjarn's Sin Mesa Fon Tok Ma Proy Proy (In April The Following Year, There Was A Fire) is many admirable things at once: it's one of the first films to be apparently inspired by the 2010 political unrest, a confessional diary of a man who's chosen the off-the-beaten path of moviemaking, and a film that is rooted, naturally and existentially, in the soul of the Northeast, a region neglected or belittled by most contemporary film-makers.
Not surprisingly, Wichanon is from Isan _ Khon Kaen, specifically _ and the independent director pulled off an unlikely financing scheme when he managed to get the municipal offices in the province (not usually known for supporting arts) to fund him. In April The Following Year also won post-production money from the Hubert Bals Fund in the Netherlands, which allowed him to finish the film.
In April The Following Year is showing at House RCA until Oct 10, and the director will try to release it elsewhere in the country (the usual struggle of indie film-makers). Here Wichanon answers our questions about the film.
Wichanon Somumjarn
We don't see films set in Isan or about Isan people. Through the history of Isan-set films, from Luk Isan (Son Of The Northeast) to Loong Boonmee Raleuk Chart (Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives), how do you see the evolution of Isan people in Thai cinema?
When I was young, the image of Isan people in movies, television and other media was that of an impoverished, little-educated bunch who could only do labour-intensive jobs. They're farmers or if they come to Bangkok, they only work in factories. But recently, such images [have been] slowly disappearing and Isan people, in most movies, have become funny characters playing for a laugh.
And how do you see the Isan characters in your film?
They're more contemporary. Isan people today, when they migrate to Bangkok, they're no longer labourers toiling in construction sites, but they also find work in offices and other more respectable careers. The Isan characters in my films are those who try to find their identities _ they're the people who moved to Bangkok and have returned home and try to find their place.
The movie has a political undertone. How do you see the role of Isan people in the recent political development?
Before the 2006 coup d'etat, Isan was the biggest support for the government [of Thaksin Shinawatra]. When the coup happened and we had a new government [that didn't really come from an election], Isan voters expressed their desire to be politically involved and to demand their democratic rights. During the unrest of 2008 to 2010, people in Bangkok may think Isan protesters were controlled or manoeuvred, but I think the majority of them are politically aware and have their own judgement.
How do you define the political space in the film?
In my previous short film, Tieang Na Noi Koy Rak, I found out almost by accident during the shoot that the differences in language and geography had a political implication. With In April The Following Year, the politics is in the background, like when the characters in Isan hear about the protests and the crackdown in Bangkok. The involvement of the characters are both direct and indirect to what happens far away in the capital.
The film mixes fact and fiction as well as your autobiography. How did that structure come about?
At first the script is just a regular narrative story based partly on my own experience, and I wanted to tell it through a character's stream of consciousness. But I was greatly inspired by the Russian film The Mirror, by Andrei Tarkovsky, and when I started editing, I found out that the best voice to tell the story in is my own, so I put in the film some footage of the conversation I had with my father and brother. The film then became my own stream of consciousness.
The film has been shown at many festivals, in Russia, Holland, India and Japan among many others. How did the audiences who're not familiar with the Thai context react to the film?
Most of them are interested in how I blend fiction and fact. But in Fukuoka, the people there know a lot about Thailand and asked questioned about the film's social relevance.
Did you make the film as a self-exorcism? It looks that way.
Yes, exactly. It sounds funny, but it's true. My family is sometimes frustrated that I chose to be a movie director, and the film is a way to address that.
What's your favourite thing about about Isan or its people?
Sua Ronghai (Crying Tigers) by Santi Taepanich. The film talks about Isan people who come to work in Bangkok. I was an Isan man in Bangkok, unemployed, and the film seemed to speak to me.
