Interview with a Groundbreaking Filmmaker from Indonesia: Khozy Rizal.

Khozy Rizal grew up in a conservative, Muslim household in Makassar, Indonesia and studied in a vocational school. He always dreamed of making movies, but his father would not pay for film school. However, Rizal used his determination and creativity to learn about performing arts in extracurricular programs, and started shooting films with his phone. Now, he has traveled around the world to screen his short films at Cannes, Sundance, BFI, SXSW Sydney, Busan, Locarno, etc. I had the pleasure to interview the 28-year-old filmmaker about his experience as a writer and director and ask him about the challenges he faces when trying to create unconventional films, especially those which address sex, domestic violence, and sexuality.

His short film Basri & Salma in a Never-Ending Comedy made him the first Indonesian filmmaker to be a Palm d'Or nominee for Short Film at Cannes in 2023. The film (Basri & Salma for short) captures in a 15-minute story the struggle of a young couple with the pressures of having children. Although international audiences recognize and applaud his work, Indonesia’s most prestigious film award association did not even nominate Basri & Salma. However, despite harsh criticism and little-to-no recognition back home, Rizal continues to write stories he wants to see on the big screen. He feels committed to explore stories rooted in Makassar and connected to his own experience. During our interview, he shared, “I do not care if some viewers like or do not like it. I want to watch this type of story.”

MINB: Did you watch the movies that were nominated at the Indonesian awards? What did the other movies have that yours did not?

KR: Maybe my film is unconventional for them. The movies they like are too clean, sugarcoated, and mainstream. Maybe they want to be like Hollywood.

MINB: Even though your movie has scenes that are heavy and difficult to watch, there is also a balance made by adding a comedic dance number.

KR: Yes, exactly. Who is going to award a movie that has domestic violence and karaoke? Originally, the story did not have the musical number. That part was going to be funny but very different. My producer suggested I do the karaoke scene.

The scene mentioned above consists of Basri's family dancing and singing to him about the benefits of having children after getting married. The scene includes lyrics on the screen as a type of sing-along moment to highlight the repetitive pressure that torments Basri on a regular basis. Although it makes viewers laugh, the scene also carries an artificial happiness that ultimately reflects the negative and hypocritical outcomes of persistent social norms.

During the interview, Rizal spoke openly about his family’s dismissive reaction after watching Basri & Salma. The film had not been nominated or received any recognition at the time his parents watched it. “They said, ‘This is bad, why did you make this?’ But then, when I got nominated at Cannes and government officials in Indo shared my work on Instagram, they suddenly said, ‘Oh, congratulations! This is so good!’” The reason his parents did not like the short film, according to Rizal, is because there are graphic scenes depicting sex and domestic violence. Although these types of scenes are common in Western movies, they carry a heavy weight in Indonesian media, especially when captured with a raw naturalism.

Nonetheless, his parents' reaction did not discourage or make the filmmaker second-guess his artistic choices. In fact, the distressing reaction is what he'd been after. "Let's shock people," Rizal told me wholeheartedly. "Shock is a raw emotion that impacts." Indeed, the audience (mainly Indonesian) at the Indonesian Film Festival in Los Angeles were surprised, which led to questions and conversations about living in a religious and conservative environment during the Q&A.

In Indonesia, there is a deep gender imbalance embedded in the country’s socio-political landscape, and this is what the film ultimately tries to dismantle through realism. A perfect example is the sex scene with Basri and Salma, who tells her husband not to ejaculate because she does not want to get pregnant. In another scene, Basri sits in a family dinner that quickly turns violent when his cousin starts beating his wife. The family dinner shocked the audiences (including myself) at the Indonesian Film Festival, since no one was expecting such a realistic portrayal of a dysfunctional family dinner from a filmmaker whose country maintains conservative ideas about gender, sex, and marriage. In the film, Basri’s family constantly bombards him with ideas of having children because it results in happiness. Yet, nobody is truly happy. Despite the efforts of Basri’s family, him and Salma never become convinced that children will make their lives better. In the end, the film intentionally leaves viewers to decide whether the young couple have kids or not.

The young filmmaker is now working on his first feature film centered on a group of queer teenage dancers in Makassar, Indonesia. He is active on social media; follow him to get more news and information about his work!