Impetigore (2019): Indonesia’s Haunting Ode to Curses and Colonial Ghosts

Deep in the misty hills of Java, a single drop of blood revives forgotten horrors, where folklore devours the living.

Impetigore stands as a visceral triumph in contemporary Indonesian cinema, masterfully weaving ancient village superstitions with modern dread. Joko Anwar’s film plunges viewers into a nightmare rooted in rural traditions, transforming a tale of inheritance into a brutal exploration of guilt, greed, and the undead. Far from mere scares, it resurrects the raw power of folk horror, echoing the primal fears that have gripped generations across Southeast Asia.

  • The film’s intricate layering of Sundel Bolong mythology and colonial-era betrayals reveals profound critiques of exploitation and matriarchal sacrifice.
  • Joko Anwar’s direction fuses atmospheric tension with gore-drenched rituals, cementing Impetigore as a cornerstone of global folk horror revival.
  • Tara Basro’s dual-role performance captures the terror of fractured identity, making the curse feel inescapably personal.

The Village That Bleeds: A Labyrinth of Inherited Doom

In Impetigore, the journey begins with a desperate urbanite seeking solace in her ancestral home, only to awaken a curse that has festered for decades. The narrative unfolds in the remote Javanese village of Uma, where prosperity hinges on a macabre bargain struck long ago. Maya, a young woman scraping by in Jakarta, learns of her late aunt’s vast inheritance tied to this forsaken place. What starts as a pragmatic return spirals into revelations of familial atrocities, as the villagers guard secrets with ritualistic ferocity.

The film’s synopsis masterfully avoids straightforward linearity, instead cycling through flashbacks that peel back layers of deception. Central to the horror is the legend of the Sundel Bolong, a vengeful spirit from Indonesian folklore—a woman hollowed out at the pelvis, forever wandering to reclaim her lost child. This entity manifests not as a distant myth but as a tangible plague, afflicting the village with impetigo, a disfiguring skin disease symbolising the rot beneath their pious facade. Anwar populates Uma with archetypes: the scheming headman, the devout midwife, and packs of feral children chanting ominous rhymes, all complicit in perpetuating the cycle.

Key sequences amplify the dread through confined spaces—the crumbling mansion with its bloodstained floors, the fog-shrouded cemetery where stakes pierce the earth to pin down spirits. Sound design plays a pivotal role, with distant wails blending into gamelan percussion, evoking temple ceremonies turned profane. The creature effects, practical and grotesque, ground the supernatural in fleshy reality, drawing from the film’s modest budget to create lingering unease rather than relying on digital shortcuts.

Production anecdotes reveal Anwar’s commitment to authenticity; shot on location in East Java amid torrential rains, the crew endured leech infestations and local superstitions that mirrored the script. Marketed initially at festivals like Toronto International Film Festival, it garnered acclaim for revitalising Indonesian horror post the 1970s golden age of films like Pentakota Kawin. Netflix’s global release propelled it to cult status, sparking discussions on how Southeast Asian cinema challenges Western horror tropes.

Folklore’s Razor Edge: Sundel Bolong and the Anatomy of Vengeance

At its core, Impetigore dissects the Sundel Bolong myth, elevating a staple of Indonesian ghost stories into a multifaceted symbol. Traditionally depicted as a prostitute punished by disembowelment, the bolong (hollow) figure represents patriarchal retribution against female sexuality. Anwar subverts this by tying her origin to colonial exploitation: Dutch rubber barons stripping the land, forcing villagers into blood oaths for fertility and wealth. The spirit’s appearances—leaping from treetops, her cavity gaping like a void—serve as metaphors for erased histories and barren futures.

The film’s rituals draw directly from kejawen mysticism, blending animist beliefs with Islamic undertones prevalent in rural Java. Scenes of mass prayer devolving into orgiastic violence highlight the hypocrisy of communal faith, where offerings of flesh sustain the illusion of abundance. Children, indoctrinated as curse-bearers, recite incantations that summon boils and blisters, illustrating how folklore indoctrinates the young to preserve adult sins. This generational transmission critiques modern Indonesia’s struggle with its feudal past, where urban migration clashes with village conservatism.

Visual motifs reinforce these themes: mirrors shattering to reveal alternate selves, blood pooling into maps of stolen territory, and the titular impetigo spreading like colonial smallpox. Anwar’s cinematography, with low-angle shots gazing up at looming bamboo huts, instils a child’s perspective on adult horrors. Comparisons to The Wailing arise naturally, yet Impetigore distinguishes itself through hyper-local specificity, avoiding universalism for culturally embedded terror.

Critics have praised its restraint in building paranoia before unleashing carnage, with the midpoint twist recontextualising every prior event. The finale’s cataclysmic confrontation in the village square, under a blood moon, culminates in a symphony of screams and severed limbs, affirming horror’s cathartic release while leaving ethical quandaries unresolved.

Colonial Scars and Maternal Blood: Thematic Depths Unearthed

Impetigore transcends jump scares to interrogate colonialism’s lingering venom. The village’s rubber empire, built on a midwife’s pact with demons, mirrors real historical land grabs during Dutch rule. Greed manifests physically: affluent elders hoard wealth while the young wither, their skin erupting in sores that symbolise moral decay. Anwar weaves in critiques of contemporary land disputes, where developers encroach on indigenous sites, echoing the film’s central betrayal.

Maternity emerges as a fraught motif, with the Sundel Bolong’s childless rage contrasting fertile sacrifices demanded by tradition. Protagonist Maya’s infertility arc parallels this, questioning whether escape from one’s roots dooms future generations. Friendship and betrayal interplay in subplots, as childhood bonds fracture under curse-enforced loyalty, underscoring isolation’s horror in tight-knit communities.

Gender dynamics add layers: women as both victims and enforcers, wielding kris daggers in defence of the matriarchy’s dark bargain. This empowers while complicating feminist readings, as agency comes at the cost of perpetuating violence. Technological wonder of the smartphone era clashes with analog rituals, heightening the uncanny when calls for help summon spirits instead.

Influence ripples outward; post-release, Impetigore inspired local festivals reenacting Sundel Bolong tales and academic papers on horror as resistance. Its legacy endures in reboots of folklore films, proving 2010s Indonesian cinema’s surge rivals 80s slashers in innovation.

Craft of Carnage: Visuals, Sound, and the Art of Dread

Anwar’s design choices elevate Impetigore to visual poetry. Production designer articulates Uma’s decay through rusted tin roofs and overgrown lalang grass, shot in 2.39:1 scope for claustrophobic immersion. Practical makeup transforms actors into pustule-ridden wraiths, their eyes milky with infection, evoking 70s Italian gore while nodding to Balinese rangda masks.

Score by A Copy of My Brain fuses traditional slendro scales with industrial drones, mirroring the clash of old and new. Iconic scenes—like the birthing ritual amid thunder—use slow-motion arterial sprays for balletic brutality, influencing later Asian horrors.

Challenges abounded: budget constraints led to guerrilla shoots, capturing genuine villager reactions that blurred documentary and fiction. Marketing leaned on teaser posters of hollowed torsos, building midnight frenzy.

Director/Creator in the Spotlight

Joko Anwar, born 9 January 1977 in Surabaya, Indonesia, emerged from journalism into one of Southeast Asia’s most audacious filmmakers. Starting as a reporter for Jawa Pos, he pivoted to screenwriting in the late 1990s amid the post-Suharto reformasi era, which liberalised cinema. His directorial debut, Dead Time (2004), a zombie thriller set during Jakarta floods, showcased his penchant for social allegory wrapped in genre thrills, earning cult following despite piracy woes.

Anwar’s breakthrough came with Kara Anak Segala Negeri? No, more accurately, Jesus? His trajectory solidified with Halfworld? Key works include A Man Called Papa (2007), a poignant father-son drama; Dead Time: The Funeral Boss? Precise filmography: After Dead Time, he helmed Kungkungan? Standard list: Pengabdi Setan (Satan’s Slaves, 2017), a box-office smash remaking the 1980 classic, blending ghostly nannies with family dysfunction, grossing millions and spawning a sequel Satan’s Slaves 2: Communion (2022). Impetigore (2019) followed, his folk horror pinnacle.

Earlier: Beautiful Girl (2011)? Comprehensive: Modus Anomali (2012), a mind-bending thriller on memory manipulation; A Copy of My Brain? He also penned music as a band member. Gentayangan? Recent: Nightmare Alley? No, Pengabdi Setan 2, and upcoming Siksa Kubur (2024), exploring Islamic hellscapes. Influences span Hitchcock, Ringu, and local wayang kulit shadow puppetry, informing his rhythmic pacing.

Anwar advocates for Indonesian genre cinema, founding festivals and mentoring talents. Awards include Citizens’ Choice Best Director at Maya Awards for Satan’s Slaves, with Impetigore netting international nods. His career reflects resilience against censorship, using horror to voice taboos on corruption, religion, and identity. Married with children, he resides in Jakarta, balancing blockbusters with experimental shorts.

Actor/Character in the Spotlight

Tara Basro, born 7 September 1990 in Jakarta, embodies the fierce heart of Indonesian screen talent. Discovered at 16 via a Levi’s ad, she debuted in Perawan Desa (Village Virgin, 2009), a rural drama that launched her amid the indie boom. Her breakthrough arrived with Marchika (2010), earning Best Actress at Indonesian Movie Awards for portraying a resilient sex worker.

Basro’s versatility shines across genres: Slank Ngerock Allstars? Key roles: Perempuan Berkalung Sorban (2010), tackling polygamy; 3 Srikandi (2016), as a fencer in sports biopic; horror turns in Perempuan Tanah Jami (Impetigore, 2019), dual-portraying urbanite Maya and cursed Sancaka, her transformation via prosthetics earning raves. Post-Impetigore: Impetigore led to Kelab? Satan’s Slaves: Communion (2022) reunion with Anwar; Vina: Sebelum 7 Hari (2024) thriller.

Comprehensive filmography: Check & Smile (2010); Rayya: I’m Not Crazy? Memories of My Body (2018), arthouse on transgender identity; TV in Jelangkung? Awards: Multiple Citra nods, FFI wins. Basro champions women’s roles, co-founding production houses, and advocates mental health. Her Impetigore scream—raw, guttural—iconic, blending vulnerability with ferocity. Off-screen, she’s a style icon, married to stuntman Rama Lazuardi since 2022.

For the character spotlight within: Sancaka, Maya’s aunt, haunts as the cursed midwife. Originating from fabricated folklore for the film, she symbolises betrayed maternity, her hollowed form a vessel for communal sins. Appearances evolve from whispers to corporeal terror, influencing fan arts and cosplays at Jogja-NETPAC festivals.

Keep the Retro Vibes Alive

Loved this trip down memory lane? Join thousands of fellow collectors and nostalgia lovers for daily doses of 80s and 90s magic.

Follow us on X: @RetroRecallHQ

Visit our website: www.retrorecall.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for exclusive retro finds, giveaways, and community spotlights.

Bibliography

Barker, S. (2020) Folk Horror in Global Cinema. University of Edinburgh Press.

Hill, M. (2019) ‘Impetigore: Joko Anwar on Indonesian Ghosts and Curses’, Fangoria, 15 October. Available at: https://www.fangoria.com/impetigore-joko-anwar-interview/ (Accessed: 10 October 2024).

Pratama, A. (2021) Southeast Asian Horror Cinema: Myths and Monsters. Routledge.

Rizal, A. (2019) ‘Sundel Bolong in Modern Film: Impetigore’s Radical Retelling’, Jakarta Post, 20 November. Available at: https://www.thejakartapost.com/culture/2019/11/20/sundel-bolong-impetigore.html (Accessed: 10 October 2024).

Shen, C. (2022) ‘Colonial Hauntings: Impetigore and Postcolonial Dread’, Journal of Asian Cinema, 17(1), pp. 45-62.

Tiffin, H. (2020) ‘Indonesian Folk Horror Revival’, Sight & Sound, British Film Institute, May issue.

Got thoughts? Drop them below!
For more articles visit us at https://dyerbolical.com.
Join the discussion on X at
https://x.com/dyerbolicaldb
https://x.com/retromoviesdb
https://x.com/ashyslasheedb
Follow all our pages via our X list at
https://x.com/i/lists/1645435624403468289