These days, you can apparently push a Cinderella only so far before she’ll summon dark forces to destroy her entire wicked step-family, one by one. That at least is the basic idea behind “The Book of Sijjin & Illiyyin,” officially a sequel to director Hadrah Daeng Ratu and screenwriter Lele Laila’s “Sijjin” from last year — which, in turn, was based on the 2014 Egyptian hit “Siccin,” which generated seven followups of its own. But “Sijjin & Illiyyin” is a stand-alone original: neither a remake or direct narrative postscript to any of the above-noted films. Its ideas are comfortably familiar though, from the abused underdog who wreaks bitter occult vengeance on her persecutors to the various forms of ickiness (bugs, blood, “boo!” scares) deployed in that pursuit.
So it seems one of the less explicable decisions at this year’s Fantasia Festival that Ratu won the jury’s best director prize for a movie that brandishes so many cliches of current Indonesian horror — in particular a willingness to crank up the histrionic hysteria level early and often. Still, within its limitations, this is a well-crafted, good-looking chiller that should please genre fans looking for the usual jolts, both at home and abroad.
A prologue finds a humble village family in distress, the mother and father soon dead as a result of an apparent demonic possession. (What brought on this occurrence doesn’t get explained until much later.) But because dad had left another wife for this one, his demise lands daughter Yuli (played as a child by Firzanah Alya) in the unwelcoming, if more upscale household of a furious stepmother, Ambar (Nai Djenar Maisa Ayu). There, Yuli is treated as a servant and constantly reminded of her “bastard” status. That continues when the matriarch finally passes away 20 years later, leaving equally bilious offspring Laras (Dinda Kanyadewi) in charge. While no one else is ill-disposed towards the now-adult “Aunt Yuli” (Yunita Siregar), others are too afraid of the mistress’ spite to protest the constant humiliation of the poor young woman.
Pushed over the edge at last, Yuli gets a local shaman to help her curse the family with black magic. That is a nasty process which involves digging up Ambar’s still-fresh corpse, then subjecting it to various grisly indignities night after night as retribution gets visited upon our heroine’s persecutors. She spares no one, including the old lady’s grandson (Sulthan Hamonangan), son-in-law (Tarra Budiman) and loyal employee (Banon Gautama). Teenage granddaughter Tika (Kawai Labiba), a devout Muslim, finds some shelter in faith, ballasted by the advice of local mosque’s mullah (David Chalik). But that doesn’t save her from experiencing many terrors, or her doubting mother Laras from still worse travails.
“Sijjin & Illiyyin” is never dull, but it pretty much dashes from crisis to crisis, leaving little room for atmospherics or psychological depth. It could have benefitted the narrative to allow Yuli’s character more of an evolution, rather than having her abruptly go from put-upon wallflower to smirking, seductive instrument of lethal vengeance. Other figures in the story remain one-note, though the actors all do their best.
By the time Laras is making like Linda Blair, malicious jinn power resisting that of Almighty Allah, the film has already gone down a familiar path of grotesque makeup, stunts and digital FX. As in the never-ending parade of ostensibly Christian exorcism movies, religious belief here seems like a superficial excuse for a stock array of supernatural hoodoo — no matter how many times Chalik’s Abuyya pauses the action to mouth some healing doctrine.
The result is more hectic, and dependent on gross-out imagery (worms, torn flesh, etc.), than it is scary. The best sequences allow for some building of suspense, like the fate of Gautama’s flunky while closing the family shop at night, or an episode when Tika is chased by her possessed mother in their house. There are a lot of stock viewer-goosings: Screaming ghoul faces, crawling insects, waking nightmares and other jump scares, including the sonic kind of sudden loud noises or silences.
Ratu knows how to engineer such things expertly, but she and writer Laila — both horror specialists — are treading no new ground here. Indeed, as they’ve respectively churned out six and 13 features (including several collaborations) in the last 18 months or so alone, it shouldn’t surprise that “Book” has a formulaic feel. It’s crafted with some care and considerable energy. But conviction, not to mention inspiration, are somewhat lacking.
Still, this is a cut above genre average, with admirable production values and a modest storytelling scale. Cinematographer Hani Pradigya’s handsome widescreen images and editor Wawan I. Wibowo’s brisk pace are complemented by Andre Harihandoyo and Rahadian Winursito’s appropriately menacing, if sometimes over-emphatic original score.
