Pengabdi Setan
Indonesia was ruled by a dictatorship from 1967 to 1998, which is normally not ideal circumstances for running a commercial film industry. Especially when it comes to a genre like horror, which specializes in shocking or subversive ideas. While horror movies were de-facto banned at certain points during the New Domain era, the genre actually flourished in Indonesian in the seventies and eighties. I've already talked about some of the crazy exploitation creature features to come out of the country during that time. The movie that truly kicked off the eighties horror boom in Indonesia is 1980's “Satan's Slaves,” which shows the interesting ways the regime's oversight effected how these movies were written and made.
Munarto has recently lost his wife. His children, teenage son Tomi and out-going daughter Rita, have lost a mother. Immediately following her passing, strange things begin to happen around the house. Tomi sees his mother's ghost, receives a warning from a fortune teller, and becomes interested in black magic. A housekeeper named Darminah, a mysteriously alluring woman, arrives at the home without explanation. Rita begins to see the spectre of her mother too. Her boyfriend is violently killed in a motorcycle wreck. The family's groundskeeper is found hanging from a noose in the shed. While Munarto continues to dismiss his children's concerns, they are increasingly harassed by visions of the dead. They believe Darminah is connected to the hauntings and this is true. She raises the corpses of the family's deceased loved ones to torment them further.
As I've tracked down more international horror flicks from the seventies and eighties, it's become common for me to comment on the influence Hollywood blockbusters had on foreign productions. Indonesian producers were not above mining American films for ideas. More than one reviewer has called “Satan's Slaves” a rip-off of “Phantasm,” which strikes me as a stretch. Had Don Coscarelli's low-budget cult classic even reached the south seas by 1980? Aside from Tomi seeing a fortune teller after his mother's death, I don't see anything but general parallels between these two stories a teenage boy going through familial grief and encountering supernatural terror. Instead, “Satan's Slaves” filters a number of well-known cinematic horror tropes through an Indonesian sensibility. The sequence of Herman dying in a freak motorcycle accident, after a vision of Darminah, brings “The Omen” to mind. The presence of religion being used to ward off demonic spirits seems likely influenced by “The Exorcist.” In general, the movie freely mixes elements from haunted house and zombie movies to create an interesting blend of spooky shenanigans.
What makes “Satan's Slaves” especially fascinating is how its Indonesian perspective effects these familiar story elements. You are probably aware that Islam is the majority religion in Indonesia, the country in fact having the largest Muslim population of any in the world. This is clearly reflected in “Satan's Slaves.” Supporting characters repeatedly clarify that the family has invited in these demonic presences by not committing to the faith. While looking for a book on black magic, Tomi is instructed by an Islamic kyai to focus on his prayers instead. The finale clarifies that the movie's villain specifically targets people who have abandoned their faith. The ending piles on the power of the Qu'ran to drive out evil, one of the final images of the film being a crescent moon and star above a masque. This message was mandated by the government, who insisted that salacious horror movies at least reinforce religious conformity. In effect, this means “Satan's Slaves” operates exactly the same as most Western horror movies, in which the crucifix wards off evil and Catholic priests exorcise demons, but simply with another religion's symbols and garb in its place.
As someone interested in other cultures and their perspective on the world, that's intriguing to me. But the main reason I loved the previous Indonesian horror movies I've seen is because they were crazy. “Satan's Slaves” does not pile on the psychotronic elements that way “Mystics in Bali” or “The Queen of Black Magic” did. There is a wild sequence, in which Tomi has a nightmare where cultists in Halloween masks lead him down into an underground chamber, where some Satanic bullshit is happening. The last act also features the amusing revelation that Darminah apparently receives a perm when fully embracing her witchy ways. Otherwise though, this one emphasizes a creepy atmosphere much more over wild set pieces. The sequences devoted to the ghostly mother appearing are effective. The finale gets gorier and campier, with pasty-faced zombies threatening the family. The same can be said of the failed exorcism a shaman attempts. However, I would say that “Satan's Slaves” does a good job of balancing trashier thrills with a more foreboding ambiance.
While the crash-zooms and unnaturally bright red blood definitely push “Satan's Slaves” into the realm of wacky cult movie, the story is ultimately rooted in a very real feeling. The death of their mother destabilizes Tomi and his family. The father looses himself in his work to cope, as dads often do. Rita spends more time with her boyfriend and parties more, to distract and dull the pain. The boy is left alone in his room, turning to mysticism to find the comfort a family too wrapped up in their own grief can provide him. Yes, “Satan's Slaves” ultimately pushes towards a didactic message about how there is no god but Allah and Muhammad is his prophet. However, that precedes your classical ominous closing credit moment. Maybe their renewed faith will re-center the family. But Tomi's innocence will still be gone, having learned that there is pain and loss and evil in this world.
I can see why “Satan's Slaves” garnered a reputation as a cult classic of Indonesian horror. It's gory enough and has shrieking, beady-eyed zombies to appeal to the gore-heads and monster kids. The aesthetic is certainly on the campier side, with the seventies fashion and style. However, it has a certain creepy power to it and deeper ideas lurking within. The original would regain a lot of its reputation following Joko Anwar's remake, which has since spawned two sequels of its own. Okay but do those have the word of Allah saving the day? I think I'm a convert now. Anyway, I liked this. Good stuff. [7/10]
Munarto has recently lost his wife. His children, teenage son Tomi and out-going daughter Rita, have lost a mother. Immediately following her passing, strange things begin to happen around the house. Tomi sees his mother's ghost, receives a warning from a fortune teller, and becomes interested in black magic. A housekeeper named Darminah, a mysteriously alluring woman, arrives at the home without explanation. Rita begins to see the spectre of her mother too. Her boyfriend is violently killed in a motorcycle wreck. The family's groundskeeper is found hanging from a noose in the shed. While Munarto continues to dismiss his children's concerns, they are increasingly harassed by visions of the dead. They believe Darminah is connected to the hauntings and this is true. She raises the corpses of the family's deceased loved ones to torment them further.
What makes “Satan's Slaves” especially fascinating is how its Indonesian perspective effects these familiar story elements. You are probably aware that Islam is the majority religion in Indonesia, the country in fact having the largest Muslim population of any in the world. This is clearly reflected in “Satan's Slaves.” Supporting characters repeatedly clarify that the family has invited in these demonic presences by not committing to the faith. While looking for a book on black magic, Tomi is instructed by an Islamic kyai to focus on his prayers instead. The finale clarifies that the movie's villain specifically targets people who have abandoned their faith. The ending piles on the power of the Qu'ran to drive out evil, one of the final images of the film being a crescent moon and star above a masque. This message was mandated by the government, who insisted that salacious horror movies at least reinforce religious conformity. In effect, this means “Satan's Slaves” operates exactly the same as most Western horror movies, in which the crucifix wards off evil and Catholic priests exorcise demons, but simply with another religion's symbols and garb in its place.
While the crash-zooms and unnaturally bright red blood definitely push “Satan's Slaves” into the realm of wacky cult movie, the story is ultimately rooted in a very real feeling. The death of their mother destabilizes Tomi and his family. The father looses himself in his work to cope, as dads often do. Rita spends more time with her boyfriend and parties more, to distract and dull the pain. The boy is left alone in his room, turning to mysticism to find the comfort a family too wrapped up in their own grief can provide him. Yes, “Satan's Slaves” ultimately pushes towards a didactic message about how there is no god but Allah and Muhammad is his prophet. However, that precedes your classical ominous closing credit moment. Maybe their renewed faith will re-center the family. But Tomi's innocence will still be gone, having learned that there is pain and loss and evil in this world.
Well, it finally happened. For years now, after seeing a movie at the geographically closer but shittier movie theater than the nicer one further in town, my buddy and I would sometimes hit the mall next door afterwards. We'd walk around and bullshit but our favorite way to waste time was to head to the F*Y*E within. Almost always, we would browse through the horror section. Sometimes, I would find some random title I didn't already own at the exact price I was willing to pay for it. After many years of enjoying this activity, the dwindling mainstream audience for physical media has led the location to close its door. It's not exactly a loss, as FYE's prices were ridiculously marked-up and their selection of actual Blu-Rays not that great. Nevertheless, I will miss it. To commemorate the end of this era, I had to find a horror movie worth owning that cost less than ten bucks. That's where “Man's Best Friend” comes in, the exact kind of mid-tier minor cult classic ideal for such an occasion.
Our protagonist is Lori Tanner, a news reporter for a local station desperate to crack a big story. She breaks into a genetic engineering facility called EMAX with a camera person in tow, Lori knows that a story about animals being abused by heartless scientist will tug at heart strings. At the center of a lab full of exotic animals, she discovers a big but otherwise normal looking dog. After the animal protects her from a mugger, she brings him home. Calling him Max, the dog becomes fiercely protective of Lori. What she doesn't know is that Max is no ordinary mutt. Intead, he's a genetically engineered super-dog with a litany of abilities borrowed from other creatures. His creator, Dr. Jarrett, is determined to get him back. Partially because it's his research but also because Max's sanity is degrading, making him dangerously violent. That's why this canine is killing anyone in Lori's suburb that displeases him. Will Lori be able to protect Max or will her pooch's deteriorating condition see him turning on his master?
“Man's Best Friend” is part of a peculiar tradition that flourished in the nineties: R-rated movies that are clearly intended for children. The film was written and directed by John Lafia, whose “Child's Play 2” probably belongs tot he same trend. In many ways, the film is a horror version of the previous year's “Beethoven.” This dog is so big and so unruly, he turns his owner's life upside down! Max does all the expected rascally dog behavior, like chasing a cat, aggravating a mail man, and stymieing the local dog catchers. As an animal, he's altogether wilder in his instincts than we rational humans are. At the same time, this doggo possesses an uncanny intelligence beyond what his breed usually entails. That sounds like a kid's movie and it basically is, except Max's shenanigans include tearing people's throats out. The movie embraces the idea of a super-killer dog the way a seven year old pitching a movie would. This is most evident in the sequence where he cocks a leg and urinates acid, which is naturally implied to someone's face later. The special effects used to bring such stunts, like Max leaping over a police car or climbing a tree with his extending jaguar claws, are less than convincing. Making it further obvious that this motion picture is made for young kids, several long scenes follow the plucky boy neighbor of Lori's that she allows in her house all the time. It really feels like someone mixed up a script for a family-friendly dog comedy with one of New Line Cinema's sillier horror sequels.
Weirdly, this never results in any tonal inconsistencies. “Man's Best Friend” simply plays its goof-ball visions mostly straight. Lafia and his team clearly know that this is a very silly movie. An extended sequence has Max breaking into a home where a pretty female collie lives, the subsequent seduction/assault scored to Donny Osmond's “Puppy Love.” Technically, the day is saved at the end by another puppy, in a particularly unlikely turn of events that can only play like a joke. The biggest indicator that we aren't meant to take “Man's Best Friend” seriously is the parade of cartoonishly awful people it sets up for Max to decimate. The mail man carries mace and seems delighted to have a chance to use it on an aggressive dog. When Lori attempts to re-home the dog she technically stole, Max ends up in the hands of a junk yard owner who is grotesquely abusive. Lori's boyfriend is an obvious asshole who hates Max because the dog actually respects her boundaries. Max cuts his break lines. The cops on the case chokes down donuts and shit-talk each other with big, exaggerated Jersey accents, even though the movie is set in California. It's just one ridiculous caricature after another.
“Man's Best Friend” is like this probably because it was written for seven year olds but also so the audience will align morally with Max. Yes, he's a gene-spliced murder-dog who maws at least one innocent person to death. Making most of his victims horrible people means we won't be upset when they get munched. This is unnecessary, of course. The audience is going to naturally like the dog. Simply because he's a big, fluffy, adorable puppy. The dog playing Max, a Tibetan Mastiff, has an extremely expressive face and cutely rolls around in a few poses. Lori is a totally oblivious character, unable to see the signs that Max is anything but an especially loyal dog. That loyalty naturally makes him even more sympathetic. That's why we love dogs. They stick by us, even when no one else will. Making Max a victim of cruel medical science further causes us to love him, despite ostensibly being the movie's monster.
Max is the movie's monster but not its villain. That falls to Lance Henriksen as Dr. Jarrett. He's the Dr. Frankenstein of this story, who unleashed a threat with his genius and now must destroyed. While the movie around him is silly as fuck, Henriksen plays the material with shocking seriousness. Lance's always-gravelly intensity manages to make the guy threatening no matter how absurd things get. That points out some deeper ideas lurking in the margins of the story. To Lori, Max is a beloved pet. To others, he's a killer, the kind of dynamic anyone who has owned a breed with a fearsome reputation is familiar with. The world calls pit bulls and Rottweilers horrors but, to those that love them, they are loyal companions. Of course, that doesn't mean that these animals don't hurt or kill people either. It's a complex role, these not-wolves we've let into our homes and hearts play. They are commercial products but living things, fiercely protected by some and thoughtlessly abused by others. Naturally, “Man's Best Friend” doesn't process these ideas in any meaningful way but I can't help but ponder on them afterwards.
In other words, this is a very goofy motion picture that can't help but entertain through its audacity. Looking back on it, I previously gave “Man's Best Friend” a low score. This is a testament to what a humorless scold I used to be as a teenager. Because, I mean, “Man's Best Friend” obviously rocks. Must I reference the acid dog piss again? How am I not supposed to love a movie containing such a moment? If it had been made more recently, the movie would probably be insufferably self-aware of its own silliness. Instead, “Man's Best Friend” appeared during that prime time for horror movies with a ludicrously childish perspective but an inability to acknowledge this. A classic, in other words. Yes, this is available in a restored and extras-packed edition but I'm going to hold onto the cheap DVD. As a reminder of my fallen video store and also because it's the exact kind of low-brow presentation a movie like this was made for. [7/10]
Our protagonist is Lori Tanner, a news reporter for a local station desperate to crack a big story. She breaks into a genetic engineering facility called EMAX with a camera person in tow, Lori knows that a story about animals being abused by heartless scientist will tug at heart strings. At the center of a lab full of exotic animals, she discovers a big but otherwise normal looking dog. After the animal protects her from a mugger, she brings him home. Calling him Max, the dog becomes fiercely protective of Lori. What she doesn't know is that Max is no ordinary mutt. Intead, he's a genetically engineered super-dog with a litany of abilities borrowed from other creatures. His creator, Dr. Jarrett, is determined to get him back. Partially because it's his research but also because Max's sanity is degrading, making him dangerously violent. That's why this canine is killing anyone in Lori's suburb that displeases him. Will Lori be able to protect Max or will her pooch's deteriorating condition see him turning on his master?
Weirdly, this never results in any tonal inconsistencies. “Man's Best Friend” simply plays its goof-ball visions mostly straight. Lafia and his team clearly know that this is a very silly movie. An extended sequence has Max breaking into a home where a pretty female collie lives, the subsequent seduction/assault scored to Donny Osmond's “Puppy Love.” Technically, the day is saved at the end by another puppy, in a particularly unlikely turn of events that can only play like a joke. The biggest indicator that we aren't meant to take “Man's Best Friend” seriously is the parade of cartoonishly awful people it sets up for Max to decimate. The mail man carries mace and seems delighted to have a chance to use it on an aggressive dog. When Lori attempts to re-home the dog she technically stole, Max ends up in the hands of a junk yard owner who is grotesquely abusive. Lori's boyfriend is an obvious asshole who hates Max because the dog actually respects her boundaries. Max cuts his break lines. The cops on the case chokes down donuts and shit-talk each other with big, exaggerated Jersey accents, even though the movie is set in California. It's just one ridiculous caricature after another.
Max is the movie's monster but not its villain. That falls to Lance Henriksen as Dr. Jarrett. He's the Dr. Frankenstein of this story, who unleashed a threat with his genius and now must destroyed. While the movie around him is silly as fuck, Henriksen plays the material with shocking seriousness. Lance's always-gravelly intensity manages to make the guy threatening no matter how absurd things get. That points out some deeper ideas lurking in the margins of the story. To Lori, Max is a beloved pet. To others, he's a killer, the kind of dynamic anyone who has owned a breed with a fearsome reputation is familiar with. The world calls pit bulls and Rottweilers horrors but, to those that love them, they are loyal companions. Of course, that doesn't mean that these animals don't hurt or kill people either. It's a complex role, these not-wolves we've let into our homes and hearts play. They are commercial products but living things, fiercely protected by some and thoughtlessly abused by others. Naturally, “Man's Best Friend” doesn't process these ideas in any meaningful way but I can't help but ponder on them afterwards.
Here's a season three episode of “Monsters” with an oddball premise. Reporter Laura Daniel arrives at the business of a Southern minister calling himself Brother Roy. He's running a “sin cleansing” operation out of his home. Upstairs, he has the embalmed body of what he claims was “one of the world's most evil men.” Now, if you are to grab a hold of the apparent corpse's hand, a few things happen. The body springs to life, its skin stretching and swelling. Your own body goes into seemingly pleasurable contortions. More green fluid is flushed out of the dead man and into a near-by bathtub. This process seemingly removes someone's sins from their body. Laura is skeptical at first but, after one grip of the dead body's hand, becomes convinced. That's when, Larch Lazaar, an on-the-run killer, shows up in the waiting room.
Since “Monsters” is only a half-hour television show, it does not time to get into the exact mechanics of the bizarre situation it presents to us. How did Brother Roy come into the possession of the dead body of such an evil man? Who is this evil man? Was he a military leader? A serial killer? A Republican senator? And how did his corpse acquire this ability and how does it work? Moreover, how exactly does one measure the quality of “sin?” I would think this is a debate people have been having for centuries, about the relative morality of certain actions versus another. The cleansing process seems to be an orgasmic experience for the participant, which I imagine some would classify as a sin by itself. Meanwhile, what is Brother Roy's purpose here? His manner of dress, repeated references to “the good word,” and Southern accent all point towards him being some phony, televangelist type. Clearly, cleansing people of their sins is a good business venture but how does it effect one spiritually? Isn't the whole point of repenting that the person recognized they've sin in the first place? This process seems to work whether the customer believes in it or not.
I feel like I was just arguing for the validity of the pirate as a horror character and here comes “Friday the 13th: The Series” to back me up. The Artifact of Doom this week is a cursed foghorn that can summon the ghost of Angus McBride, a 17th century pirate who buried his treasure near-by before being killed by his mutinous crew. Now, in exchange for the blood of the descendants of said crew, he'll reveal the location of said treasure. Somehow, the owner of the lighthouse Joe Fenton has become aware of this. He's sacrificing people in the seaside town, each of them unaware of their connection to the legendary pirate. Joe's brother, Dewey, operates the nautical museum adjacent to the lighthouse and contacts Ryan and Micki about the foghorn, bringing our heroes into this tale of high-tight haunted and pirated plunder.
By now, it should be obvious that I prefer television programs with episodic plotting. However, there's a downside to this sometimes too. Sometimes, an episode comes along that feels a little detached from the actual series. Ryan and Micki are on the road again, Jack nowhere to be seen in this one. That means “The Pirate's Promise” seems devoted largely to the rivalry of the brothers in this seaside town, alongside the related people here and there. It seems the plot here is more about these supporting characters than our actual protagonists. The final scene is Micki expressing some grief over the death of someone she recently became friends with. This feels a bit like a fanfic where the established heroes are written going on about how great the author's original creations.
