‘Autobiography’ review: Makbul Mubarak’s debut feature is a harrowing tale of lust for power and deeply rooted corruption [A-] | Toronto

Rarely do debut features feel as confident as Makbul Mubarak’s Autobigraphy, an electrifying, bold and heartbreaking film that sends an urgent message about Indonesia’s decaying political landscape.

Taking a straightforward approach, Mubarak’s film is never fussy nor try-hard. Flowing narratively in powerful, even scary, ways, the film never loses its credibility thanks to outstanding performances from its two leads, intimate camerawork that makes viewers feel tied to the central characters, a sharply focuses screenplay and superb direction that brings a unique vision and a remarkable edge to a story that, while told before, still feels fresh and totally engrossing.

The story focuses on young housekeeper Rakib (Kevin Ardilova) who seems to be the only inhabitant of a posh rural mansion in Purna. The mansion belongs to a retired general who, out of the blue, returns one day much to Rakib’s surprise. The general’s return is deliberate: he’s running as a candidate in the local mayoral election, with a campaign that calls for modernization. The price seems trivial to the general: hundreds of families will have to be evicted to make way for a new power plant in a village plagued by constant electricity cuts.

Longing for a father figure, Rakib grows to idolize the general who, in turn, feeds the young man’s lust of power and status. Things soon take a dark turn when an act of vandalization in the village outrages the general: one of his campaign posters has been torn apart. Rakib volunteers to find out who the culprit is – but things will never be the same from that point on. As the young man witnesses the true, oppressive face of the general, he starts to question his power-granting idol, and what started as a quest for power soon devolves into a plight for freedom.

As a young man trying to make sense of his place in an unforgiving world, Ardilova shines as Rakib whose lust for power soon takes a toll. Ardilova’s expressive face conveys conflicting emotions of pain, guilt, hunger for power and exploitation while making them all seem so grounded, believable, and earned. Mubarak knew very well the film centers on such a delicate performance – and his choice of Ardilova provides much credibility to the film. Equally convincing is Arswendy Bening Swara whose turn as the general is menacing and layered. Together, both actors deliver intense scenes of great impact, showing us the quite harrowing evolution of their relationship.

With skillfully composed scenes, deliberately dim cinematography and sparse score, the film feels ominous from the outset – Mubarak wastes no time in introducing us to a world where power is never negotiable, but rather inherited and passed on from one generation to the next. In questioning the multiple layers and forms of oppression that have shaken the country’s ideological and moral systems for decades, the film demonstrates how corruption has become more of a convenient tradition – a reality that’s become impossible to resist or shake off, a cancer that has spread so rapidly in an already ailing body of a country. This long held, unspoken social rule that feeds on hierarchies and oppression has become so prevalent that it cannot be debated, challenged, or fought – and those who still have the guts, or rather the insanity, of challenging it will face the direst of consequences.

In the film’s final captivating and unforgettable scenes, Mubarak goes a step further to demonstrate that when there’s no legitimate heir to power, one has to be found as though to fill an immense, pressing void: the throne of an oppressor, feeding on their subordinates’ fear, vulnerability, and unquestioned loyalty.

Grade: A-

This review is from the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival.