Mukhsin review

By Chris Chew

Rating: 5/10

By now, the phrase ‘A Yasmin Ahmad film’ should carry some weight in it. Anyone who has watched Sepet or Gubra will have quickly warmed up to the distinct filmmaking style of Malaysia’s reigning queen of film. At least in this region, the mere news of any upcoming Yasmin Ahmad film is enough to generate anticipation and send media outlets in a frenzy to catch that exclusive first glimpse into some closely-guarded project.

And for good reason too. Yasmin’s films have almost single-handedly brought down the stigma that once came attached to another phrase, i.e., ‘a Malaysian movie’. Her unrivalled understanding of Malaysia’s pluralist society has resonated with audiences who have long thirsted for moving pictures that do justice to the everyday existence of the rakyat.

With her latest effort Mukhsin, Yasmin takes that keenly attuned visual acumen into Malaysia’s villages. Heralded as the prequel to the groundbreaking Sepet, all signs through the first half hour point towards a refreshing, accessible film steeped in the simple joys of life. Twelve-year-old Mukhsin (Mohd Syafie Naswip) is hardly the Prince Charming of every little girl’s dreams. But then again, 10-year-old Orked (Sharifah Aryana) is hardly a princess requiring salvation. She sneers at a girly game of mock marriage in favour of a round of galah panjang with the guys, and liberally beats up boys who dare to ridicule her. The two grow closer, with a smitten Mukhsin giving Orked bike rides in exchange for English lessons. He is clearly bitten by love’s puppy, wearing the smartest shirt he owns and lathering a kilo of gel on his hair before they go kite-flying.

The preteen debutants give admirable performances, especially given that Yasmin’s oft-preferred technique of lengthy single-take sequences leaves little room for error. Yet despite the emphasis on communal living, Mukhsin’s intended minimalism feels disjointed and somewhat unnatural. As Mukhsin and Orked grow closer, their families revel in the sheer satisfaction of having each other. Orked’s parents Pak Atan (Irwan Iskandar) and Mak Inom (Sharifah Aleya), together with resident maid Kak Yam (Adibah Noor), give each other piggy back rides, make chocolate milk ice packs and croon Nina Simone songs. But the unbridled pleasures of everyday living that the village unearths feel artificial next to the lush paddy fields and rustic houses. Save for a delightful joget dance in the rain, much of the supposed unfussiness of kampung living seems forced upon us, as if we didn’t already know that growing up in rural Malaysia—or rural anywhere, for that matter—is filled with ordinary, mundane days.

This is partially excusable, if only because it is meant to create a cosy, unassuming milieu for pure love to easily develop, unfettered by urban pressure and cultural expectations. But halfway through, just as we are beginning to warm up to the young couple’s quirks, Ahmad makes the ill-fated decision to weave in a pair of subplots into the fray involving Mukhsin’s prodigal brother and Orked’s cheating neighbour. Both stories are meant to demonstrate love materialising in older, more tainted forms. But instead of serving as juxtapositions to the central tale, they are rather frustrating deviations—not the least because they are painfully underdeveloped and messily tacked on. Like chunky beads stitched on a plain-coloured evening gown, the excess glitterati only distracts from the main attraction, so that eventually our interest in the protagonists’ relationship slowly wanes.

Alas, it is this unnecessary frill that ultimately weighs the film down, transforming an introspective journey of love’s origins into a ponderous film that says little about our adolescent infatuations. Yasmin tries to redeem matters with a sequence of tear-jerking heartbreak involving Mukhsin at the film’s end, but by then, all we’re wondering is what the boy is going to do with that funky self-made passenger seat on his funky bicycle. There are moments of genuine, disarming comedy, such as when Mak Inom ‘disciplines’ Orked, or when Orked refuses to move from a couch, much to the chagrin of some couch movers (including fellow indie filmmaker Ho Yuhang). There’s even an extended cameo by Sepet’s darling couple of Sharifah Amani and Ng Choo Seong. But all the succulent camerawork and tongue-in-cheek subtleties have been rendered ineffectual by some overbearing exercise in cheesy sentimentalism. Evidently, not even the phrase ‘A Yasmin Ahmad film’, nor multiple appearances at any of the world’s film festivals, is enough to make the film palpable. Mukhsin is a disappointing conclusion to a promising trilogy. Perhaps good things don’t always come in threes.

MUKHSIN

Release Date
8 March 2007
Genre
Drama / Family
Director
Yasmin Ahmad
Cast
Sharifah Aryana, Mohd Syafie Naswip, Sharifah Aleya, Adibah Noor, Irwan Iskandar
Running Time
1 hour 25 minutes
Language
Malay, English, Mandarin
Classification
U