nwasianweekly.com
July 21, 2007

Photo provided by Fortissimo Films

A monk (played by Sakda Kaewbuadee) and a dentist (Arkanae Cherkam) find sweet rapport in “Syndromes and a Century.”

Film’s mood, charm, humor stir the soul

By N.P. Thompson
For the Northwest Asian Weekly

“I don’t dare to confess my love,” states a minor character midway through “Syndromes and a Century,” an engaging, often sublimely funny new film from writer-director Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Indeed, the frustrated young men (and one woman) under Weerasethakul’s gaze are at pains to articulate what’s on their minds. It’s a movie about looking, listening and waiting — and how we as human beings are stirred up inside by our connections to other people, perhaps especially by connections that are more imagined than real.

Nowhere does Weerasethakul demonstrate this better than in the oddly sweet rapport between a dentist, who nurtures a second career as a singer of romantic ballads, and a monk, who desires to be something, anything, other than a wearer of holy robes. In the chair for a checkup, the monk muses over his unrealized dream of becoming a radio DJ and how close he once came to making it happen: “I didn’t know how to request a song. I didn’t have a phone, so I sent a letter instead … and the DJ wrote back and invited me to dinner.” So moved by the recollection, the dentist Ple (a thoroughly believable Arkanae Cherkam) begins to sing softly as he cleans the monk’s teeth. At one point, he ceases cleaning yet continues his lullaby-like chanting. Humorous and poignant aren’t qualities that usually entwine; be that as it may, Weerasethakul’s gentle, wry understatement fuses them exquisitely.

Part of what makes “Syndromes and a Century” as charming as it is enigmatic stems from the way Weerasethakul combines formal rigor with delicacy of mood and spirit. There’s a nighttime street fair in which a man croons a slow pop tune to the spare accompaniment of guitar, conga drums and an enveloping chorus of cicadas. It takes a moment to recognize this fellow in the glittery green jacket as the dentist. After he finishes, his guitarist Ant (Kosin Wongtes) plays a hypnotically beautiful solo in a classical style that, for me, summoned up the memory of hearing my mom’s Segovia LPs as a child. Weerasethakul parks the camera on Ant, first in a wide angle, then from a medium perspective, before pulling away to shots of the crowd milling soundlessly around the fair as the music strums on at the forefront. Later, the dentist catches up with the monk and tries to give him a CD he’s recorded, along with the deliciously deadpan caveat: “Normally, I sing about teeth and gums. But this album is all love songs.”

Most of “Syndromes” unfolds at two vastly dissimilar hospitals. The first of them has a languorous, almost drowsy feel. It’s out in the countryside somewhere; ajar windows of doctors’ offices and exam rooms reveal the luxuriant palm fronds just outside, swaying lightly in a humid breeze. The second hospital carries over some of the same characters and exchanges as the first; however, it’s a sleeker, more modern setting. The windows here look onto Bangkok skyscrapers, and Weerasethakul revels in visual puns inspired by Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey.” (For all that modernity, though, the movie was censored in its native country. The Thai government objected to, among other things, a scene in which doctors swig hard liquor in a hospital basement and one of them passes out.)

Structurally, “Syndromes” follows a path similar to Weerasethakul’s “Tropical Malady.” Even so, “Syndromes” is a much more mature work; its two halves belong to and comment on each other, whereas “Malady’s” stop-start experimentation suggested a student film under the (bad) influence of Jean-Luc Godard. As proof of the director’s evolving mastery, Weerasethakul works wonders with performers who had previously never acted. Special mention goes to Nantarat Sawaddikul, a tollbooth collector who holds a master’s degree in psychology; as Dr. Tei, she has a natural authority with colleagues and patients. Sawaddikul also conveys the loneliness of Tei’s profession, as well as the contradictions of a woman who must somehow be all things to all people, from a timorous suitor who quizzes her, “Doctor, can we get married?” to a cantankerous elderly monk who’s quite comically convinced she can purge his soul from the vengeful ghosts of barnyard chickens.

“Syndromes and a Century” plays July 20-26 at SIFF Cinema inside McCaw Hall, 321 Mercer St., Seattle. For showtimes and ticket information, visit www.seattlefilm.com.

N.P. Thompson can be reached at info@nwasianweekly.com.

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