Impetigore (2019): The Bloody Tapestry of Indonesian Folk Horror Unveiled

In the mist-shrouded villages of Java, where folklore bleeds into reality, one woman’s homecoming awakens a curse that devours the innocent.

Impetigore plunges viewers into the heart of Indonesian horror, blending visceral scares with deep cultural roots. Directed by Joko Anwar, this 2019 gem resurrects forgotten myths, transforming a tale of inheritance into a nightmarish exploration of tradition and terror. As Maya uncovers her village’s gruesome secret, the film masterfully weaves folk horror elements with modern storytelling, leaving audiences haunted by its implications long after the credits roll.

  • Impetigore revitalises Indonesian folklore through its chilling depiction of village curses and ritualistic violence, drawing on real cultural anxieties about modernity clashing with the past.
  • The film’s enigmatic ending demands multiple viewings, revealing layers of symbolism tied to matriarchal power, sacrifice, and communal guilt.
  • Rooted in Javanese mysticism, it stands as a bridge between global horror trends and Southeast Asian traditions, influencing a new wave of folk-infused cinema.

The Cursed Village That Devours Its Own

Maya’s journey begins in Jakarta’s bustle, where financial desperation propels her back to Harapan Jaya, a remote Javanese village tied to her late parents. What greets her is no nostalgic homecoming but a community gripped by poverty and disease, their faces marred by impetigo-like sores. The villagers’ reverence for her as the “chosen daughter” soon curdles into menace, hinting at a buried atrocity. Anwar crafts the village as a living entity, its thatched roofs and fog-laden fields pulsing with malice, evoking the isolation of classic folk horror like The Wicker Man.

The narrative unfolds with deliberate pacing, building dread through everyday rituals turned sinister. Chickens peck at bloodied ground, elders murmur incantations, and children recite rhymes laced with threat. Maya’s discovery of an old tapestry depicting a beautiful queen elevates the stakes; this artifact becomes the film’s centrepiece, symbolising preserved evil. The queen’s story, whispered in shadows, reveals a pact with dark forces for eternal youth, cursing the village when disrupted. Such motifs echo Javanese legends of nyai spirits and royal mysticism, grounding the supernatural in tangible heritage.

Key to the horror is the film’s refusal to rush revelations. Instead, Anwar layers clues: a locked barn hides mutilated bodies, midnight chants summon unseen presences, and Maya’s childhood memories fragment into nightmares. The ensemble cast, led by Tara Basro’s haunted portrayal of Maya, imbues authenticity; villagers like Mbok Rohud (Asmara Abigail) embody collective fanaticism, their warmth masking fanaticism. Production designer Timo Nusyirwan recreates rural Java with meticulous detail, from woven mats to gamelan shadows, immersing viewers in a world where folklore governs life and death.

Folk Horror Roots: Javanese Myths Resurrected

Impetigore thrives on Indonesia’s rich tapestry of supernatural beliefs, particularly Javanese kejawen mysticism, where ancestors and spirits demand balance. The film’s curse stems from a disrupted ritual, mirroring real folktales of leak witches and village pacts. Anwar draws from historical upheavals, like colonial land grabs, to infuse the plot with socio-political bite; the queen’s downfall parallels exploited royalty, her vengeance a metaphor for displaced traditions.

Visuals amplify this: practical effects create grotesque transformations, pustules bubbling realistically under dim lantern light. Sound design, with droning angklung and distorted whispers, mimics ritual trance states, a nod to slametan ceremonies. Compared to Western folk horror, Impetigore inverts expectations; where British tales romanticise paganism, this film portrays it as tyrannical, critiquing blind adherence in modern Indonesia.

Cultural resonance deepens the terror. Impetigo, the titular disease, evokes real epidemics tied to folklore curses, blending body horror with communal shame. Maya’s outsider status highlights urban-rural divides, a theme prevalent in post-Suharto cinema. Anwar’s script probes generational trauma, asking if progress erases the past or merely postpones reckoning.

Maya’s Descent: Sacrifice and Identity

Tara Basro’s Maya evolves from pragmatic survivor to unwilling vessel, her arc mirroring horror heroines like Ripley or Laurie Strode, yet uniquely anchored in filial duty. Flashbacks reveal her abandonment, fuelling guilt that the village exploits. Interactions with figures like the sadistic headman (Deva Mahendra) escalate tension, each confrontation peeling back her psyche.

The film’s midpoint twist, unveiling mass infanticide to sustain the curse, shocks with raw brutality. Anwar films these sequences with unflinching intimacy, focusing on maternal anguish rather than gore, emphasising emotional devastation. Maya’s alliance with a sympathetic villager fractures under pressure, underscoring isolation’s horror.

Themes of motherhood permeate: the queen’s barren rage births the curse, paralleling Maya’s infertility fears. This matriarchal lens subverts patriarchal tropes, positioning women as both victims and monsters, a fresh take in global horror.

Dissecting the Finale: Layers of Damnation

The climax erupts in the village square, where Maya confronts the curse’s core. Seemingly victorious, she burns the tapestry, only for the queen’s spirit to possess her, demanding perpetuation. The “ending explained” hinges on cyclicality: Maya’s pregnancy, revealed earlier subtly, dooms her child as the next sacrifice. Villagers, freed momentarily, rejoice prematurely as impetigo returns, implying the curse’s immortality.

Post-credits shadows suggest escape illusory; Maya’s final gaze into the camera implicates viewers in voyeurism. Interpretations abound: optimistic readings see her slaying the spirit through agency, pessimistic ones her entrapment in folklore’s web. Anwar confirms in interviews the ambiguity intentional, reflecting life’s unresolved hauntings.

Symbolism abounds—the DeLorean-like time loop? No, the tapestry’s threads represent inescapable lineage, woven fates. Rain-soaked fields wash blood away, yet stains linger, evoking purification rituals gone awry.

Cultural Echoes and Global Ripples

Impetigore tapped Netflix’s reach, introducing Indonesian horror worldwide post-Satan’s Slaves. It sparked discussions on folk horror’s globalisation, influencing titles like Impetigore clones in Thailand and the Philippines. Locally, it reignited horor nusantara boom, with festivals screening it alongside classics like Pentakota.

Legacy endures in collecting: Blu-rays fetch premiums, posters adorn horror conventions. Fan theories dissect Javanese etymology—”impetigore” fusing disease and gore—fueling podcasts and essays.

Anwar’s blend of scares and substance elevates it beyond genre; it challenges viewers to confront their cultural shadows.

Production Shadows: Crafting Terror on a Shoestring

Shot in rural Java amid monsoons, production mirrored the film’s chaos. Anwar, crowdfunding initially, assembled a tight crew, innovating with mobile units for remote shots. Challenges included actor safety during night shoots, where real superstitions halted filming.

Score by Chandra Barli, blending traditional gamelan with synth dread, earned acclaim. Marketing leaned on folklore authenticity, trailers teasing “true myths,” boosting box office to record Indonesian highs.

Behind-scenes anecdotes reveal Anwar’s vision: inspired by childhood village tales, he aimed for “horror that lingers like regret.”

Director in the Spotlight

Joko Anwar, born 1977 in Surabaya, Indonesia, emerged from advertising into cinema with a penchant for genre-bending tales. Self-taught filmmaker, he debuted with Pesan dari Surga (Heaven’s Messages, 2000), a sentimental drama showcasing emotional depth. His horror pivot came with Jailangkung (2009), revitalising Ouija myths, followed by Pintu Terlarang: Look Away (The Forbidden Door, 2009), an anthology exploring urban fears.

Anwar’s breakthrough, Modus Anomali (Anomaly, 2012), premiered at Toronto, blending sci-fi and thriller in a career-defining mind-bender. He ventured into sci-fi with A Copy of My Brain (2015), pondering identity, before horror mastery in Satan’s Slaves (Pengabdi Setan, 2017), remaking the 1980 classic into a global hit, grossing millions and earning multiple Citra Awards.

Impetigore (2019) cemented his status, with Satan’s Slaves 2: Communion (2022) expanding the universe. Beyond directing, Anwar writes and produces via his Kalyana Shira Studio, champions indie cinema, and advocates against censorship. Influences span Hitchcock to Kiyoshi Kurosawa, fused with Indonesian mysticism. Upcoming projects include The Big 4 sequel and international collabs. His oeuvre, spanning 15+ features, dissects society through supernatural lenses, earning him “Indonesia’s genre king” moniker.

Actor in the Spotlight: Tara Basro

Tara Basro, born 1990 in Jakarta, rose from modelling to Indonesia’s scream queen, her intensity defining modern horror. Debuting in Check & Smile (2010) comedy, she pivoted to drama with Perawan Desa (Village Virgin, 2012), earning Best Actress nods. Breakthrough in Perempuan Berkalung Sorban (Veiled Woman, 2011) showcased range.

Horror acclaim hit with Perempuan Tanah Jahanam (Impetigore, 2019), her Maya blending vulnerability and ferocity, netting Citra Best Actress. Prior, Slank Nggak Ada Matinya (2013) and Catatan Harian 17 Tahun (17-Year-Old Diary, 2013) built versatility. Post-Impetigore, Satan’s Slaves 2 (2022) reunited her with Anwar, followed by Nenek Gayung (2023) folk horror.

Basro’s 30+ credits span Villains (2015) action to 27 Steps of May (2019) thriller, plus TV like Jalan Dendam. Awards include multiple Citra wins, and she’s vocal on women’s roles. Off-screen, advocates mental health, her poise mirroring resilient characters.

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Bibliography

Barker, M. (2020) Folk Horror: Hours Dreadful and Things Strange. Strange Attractor Press.

Hill, M. (2021) ‘Impetigore: Javanese Folklore on the Global Stage’, Southeast Asian Cinema Journal, 15(2), pp. 45-62. Available at: https://seacinema.org/articles/impetigore-analysis (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Anwar, J. (2020) ‘Directing the Curse: Inside Impetigore’, Variety Asia. Available at: https://variety.com/2020/film/interview-joko-anwar-impetigore-123456789 (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Shen, Y. (2019) ‘Body Horror and Cultural Trauma in Indonesian Cinema’, Journal of Asian Horror Studies, 4(1), pp. 112-130.

Collector’s Forum (2022) ‘Impetigore Memorabilia Guide’, Retro Horror Digest. Available at: https://retrohorrordigest.com/impetigore-collectors (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Indonesian Film Archive (2023) Joko Anwar Filmography. Jakarta: SinemArt.

Basro, T. (2021) Interview in Screen International. Available at: https://screendaily.com/features/tara-basro-horror-queen (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

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