Title : Dari Jemapoh Ke Manchestee
Year : 2001
Director : Hishamuddin Rais
Script/Screenplay : Hishamuddin Rais
Cast : Indra Syahril, Zulkarnain Ibrahim, Azizul Akma, Fariza Azlina, etc.

Reviewer : Saleha Ali

Dead-end drive

The underdog factor attached to independent films (think lower budgets and fewer resources as compared to movies by established production houses) usually prompts people to buy a ticket in a show of support.

One such production, Dari Jemapoh Ke Manchesteé, has other things going for it, one being the fact that it is the directorial debut of ISA (Internal Security Act) detainee Hishamuddin Rais.

Work on the film, presented by Pitcairn Films, Paya Dara & Halim Sabir Productions, started in 1996. Since its completion in 1998, it has done the rounds on the “international” circuit, gaining critical acclaim at the Singapore International Film Festival that year.

Dari Jemapoh is a ’70s road movie which tracks the path taken by Yadi, a football-mad village boy (played by Indra Syahril) who dreams of visiting Manchester (pronouncing it Negri Sembilan-style as Manchesteé) to see the Manchester United team, especially George Best, in action.

He finds a willing travel companion in his buddy Mafiz (Zulkarnain Ibrahim), who is obsessed with finding his long-lost sailor-father, believed to be in Liverpool.

But as you hop into the “borrowed” MU red boneshaker which the boys have decided to use as a mode of transport to Manchester, you find yourself in for a collision of ideas and intentions.

Now, for films of that ilk, it is imperative to have a revving script. Plain good acting is another aspect that makes it “roadworthy”.

However, Yadi does nothing to endear himself to you, as he whinges in a perpetual high pitch right through. His pronunciation problem gets to you after a while.

Mafiz, who speaks in a monotone, is no better and the bland and repetitive dialogue between the two is as exciting as a “draft” left overnight.

While we might be amused by the boys’ improbable dreams, it is hard to remain in a benevolent mood once we know that the word “passport” is not in their vocabulary.

Just how far can you make ignorance believable when old folks from the “ulu-est” (most remote) of kampungs have, for decades, gone in droves to perform their haj (pilgrimage) in those big ships?

And these boys are no loin-clothed Muglis either (Yadi wears this pair of quite trendy denim Bermudas for the journey and is in enough contact with the modern world as to have received an MU scarf from a friend).

The car and the film putter on and the boys arrive at a nightspot where punks and rocker-types hang out. They step in only to witness a scene where the band stops mid-song to shout abuse at a trio of older men in batik, urging them to get out.

These men retaliate by attempting to wield “power” and authority by firing several gunshots into the air. We get the point about power-wielding government stereotypes with a clichéd bang here.

Then we get instances of when the director uses goofball techniques to seemingly “satirise” situations but the exaggerations weren’t executed stylishly enough to make us want to pull the brakes on logic in the name of creative license.

For instance, band boy Lini (Azizul Akma) joins the party after being shot in the arm by the bloke in batik. He winds up in the boot of their car, his blood dripping to the ground.

At least the guy, who rolls his “rs” the way a Singaporean Malay would, proves to be the brightest spark. However, he too annoys as his lines are limited to versions of “that’s cool”. The fourth passenger, know-all Mila (Fariza Azlina), whom Yadi rescues from a pimp at a bar, provides more moments of “inanity”.

When the car sputters to a stop near some ruins in a deserted area, she wanders off, reaching a river where she swims in the buff, watched by a fascinated Yadi, who seemed only too happy to shed his not-too-subtle attachment to Mafiz for the moment.

In an incredulous turn of events, Mila gets captured by a wild-haired keeper of the area but he tosses her a pareo to wear before tying her hands up and keeping her in a cage because she represents “maksiat” (sin). Another ambiguous stab at authority maybe?

This plot swerves off the tarmac even further. Rather than flee for her life (as her legs are untied) when her captor dozes off, Mila tries to steal his rifle. She is recaptured and it is soon back to the cage for her. She escapes again and what does she do? Try to take off with his rifle again!

At this juncture, let’s take note that the other boys do not seem unduly worried about Mila even as darkness falls. Then, alerted by a sound in the night, they start looking around and stumble upon the place where she is held. As they approach it, they get shot at by the old man.

However, they escape, quite unperturbed by this encounter, and are seen cleaning themselves in a river after that.

It’s teh tarik time quite suddenly at a makcik stall where, out of the blue, the pimp from Mila’s past appears and threatens to blow their brains off with a rifle, unless they return his briefcase. However, he is foiled and is chastised by the warong lady in a nogori accent.

Yes, they have not really left Negri Sembilan as the recurring encounters with a bunch of bikers, a roly-poly traveler and a friendly cop on a bike indicate.

But any inferences one might be tempted to make (about going round in circles in pursuit of one’s dreams perhaps), get dashed by the bewilderingly “slapstick” ending, which sees the bikers alighting from their machines to help push the car which has illogically stalled right at the top of the hill.

The bikers fail. Enter Mr Roly-Poly (“Next time, don’t underestimate a person on foot”, he “profoundly” says) who does the job in a flash.

At journey’s end, one gleans attempts at making some statements, but if this were the case, the filmmaker seems to be articulating “in tongues”.

(I must also mention a particular subtitle, I never arsed to be rescued ...” or something to that effect which was so obviously contrived to pull one over the censors that you almost hear the person responsible whoop with joy that it passed.)

However, what one might be tempted to do is take a trip around Negri Sembilan because the camera-work on the sweeping greens, winding roads and even pitch-dark night, are done with a wonderfully artistic eye.

But you may not want Yadi and his compadres for company because they’d drive you round the bend ...

* The writer can be contacted at saleha@nstp.com.my

Source : New Straits Times (17/8/2001)