Apichatpong Weerasethakul: Mysterious Object At Noon

Apichatpong Weerasethakul: Mysterious Object At Noon

(Thailand, 2000)

I first saw Mysterious Object At Noon shortly after its' 2002 US DVD release, and eventually purchased the disc, which has been subjected to many viewings. There is nothing really quite like it.

Based around the surrealists' 'Exquisite Corpse' party game, the film was assembled over 3 years from mostly improvised footage, with everyone involved a simultaneous actor/collaborator/creator of this grand experiment. The footage was then edited down to the final 85 minute running time.

Beginning with a series of travelling shots along a freeway through Bangkok, exiting onto successively smaller side streets, before ending in a neighborhood, Mysterious Object begins with a look and feel that is familiar, if low-budget. However, the narrative that begins to emerge begins to fragment as quickly as it appears, with tangents spiralling through Thai folklore, and into the realm of improvisational science fiction. Through it all, a gradual process of deceleration sets in, as if to suggest that the arbitrary imposition of meaning onto an independently evolving creation is futile or cruel. This does make demands upon the viewer: you are forced, rather absolutely, to get into and engage with this film, as it progresses towards an ever more wordless visual expressiveness that draws from a radical redefinition of silent cinema as heavily as it draws from experimental film (or from documentary film).

Thus, the final results are only vaguely coherent, but narrative coherence is beside the point. Two usually contradictory things are going on here - one, an attempt at the autogeneration of folklore, and the other an audacious piece of experimental filmmaking - simply put, Weerasethakul has brought together an avant-garde, and a world of folk storytelling (including bits of the Thai folk epic The Ramakien) that would seem to rarely coexist, much less fluorish in the others' presence, which is precisely what happens in this magical excursion into dreamlike, non-narrative impressionism. Many themes that form the foundation of Weerasethakul's subsequent body of work emerge here: memory, improvisation, and life as some grand flux - an ever-simmering molecular stew, which is here linked with the specific mechanisms of the creative process. Meanwhile, Weerasethakul's own background - first trained as an architect, with subsequent study of film and theater - offers some insights into the ideas that shape his work: interests in shape, unusual structures and organic narratives that tie disparate elements together.

In this particular construct, Weerasethakul has created something that I think will be heralded as some kind of classic - though not in the short run. I note that most reviews I've run across, even from normally intrepid critics, seem to be completely flustered by this film, and don't mind seeming mildly hostile about it. So be it - this film's casual, absolute obliteration of familiar divisions: between folk and avant-garde, between fiction and documentary, between crafted narrative and free-flowing improvisation may take a little time to sink in.

Weerasethakul's regard for roots and his homeland deserve mention as well - he very clearly loves Thailand, and this film, which traverses highly variable landscapes from urban to village, from coasts to mountains, views and records both land and people with a genuine affection. Weerasethakul's parents were doctors, and this film, and his subsequent features also all feature brief clinic scenes, perhaps honoring his own parents in oblique fashion. These unassuming devices and subtle qualities give this bold and formally demanding film a tremedous warmth and depth, which is - more precisely - why I think this film will ultimately find it's place and recognition in cinematic history.