This conversation with the film director Nontawat Numbenchapol on his movie Boundary(2013), which follows a young soldier called in Bangkok to break up the “red shirts” protest (2011) to his hometown in Sisatek, a zone of conflict between Thailand and Cambodia due to the ongoing political dispute between the two countries over the Preah Vihear Temple. Boundary was funded by Busan International Film Festival and Art Network Asia. Numbenchapol received the Young Filmmaker award from the Bangkok Critics Assembly and Boundary screened across many film festivals such as Berlin International Film Festival, International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam (IDFA), and Yamagata International Documentary Film Festival.

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Nontawat Numbenchapol on the haunting truth behind his new feature documentary, By The River

Why did you choose Klity Village as the setting?

When planning the project, we wanted to present a kind of neutral story, something everyone can relate to. So we started research into the environmental problems facing the country. Talking with activists, we heard a lot of shocking stories. Klity Village is one example where people fought and won against a big factory and the pollution control department. We hope their victory will inspire people fighting other cases of environmental pollution. Being a small village deep in the woods, it also allowed us to work in a more controllable environment to create beautiful pictures.

How was the filming experience compared to working on Boundary?

We spent three years filming Boundary, a lot of traveling. By The River was a relatively much smaller project. It was more about adjusting to the environment, like the limited electricity and clean drinking water. Also timing and planning was essential to get the footage we needed.

We first thought we’d see the villagers with some sort of deformity, but they look just normal. Yet beneath that, everyone’s blood is contaminated with lead. Likewise, under the clear water at the bottom of the river, there’s lead, which is a heavy metal. The villagers’ diet relies on fish from the river, so it affects the children’s brain function. Most of the elders who experienced the problem at its peak are dead, while some are now living with blindness.

Filming was divided into two phases; when we returned to Klity for the second period, we found our lead character had passed away. That had a big impact on the film: as you can see, it gets heavier, gloomier and has a haunting feel to it.

Does your background in graphic design contribute to the visuals in your films?

It does a lot. Studying visual communication design, I know precisely how to compose, leaving me with the camera techniques to work on. Now that I know my way around the camera and shooting, it’s become easier to accomplish the shots. I also worked with Withit Chanthamarit [emerging photographer whose work recently exhibited at Speedy Grandma’s Inhabitation exhibition], who shares a similar photography style, on set. Cinematography-wise, it’s almost like still images: static but moving.

What do you think of the general perception of documentaries here in Thailand?

It’s better than last year. But most people are still stuck with this picture of a TV documentary, with a lot of boring talking heads. But if we look globally, it’s evolved a lot. Maybe it’s down to more access to equipment which allows more people to work. It’s exciting now; the challenge of making a documentary is in how people are competing in altering the form of a documentary, playing with the form structure, almost redefining it, like The Act of Killing or The Missing Picture, which are much acclaimed by critics. I hope the trend will soon arrive in the mainstream here, too.

BK Magazine…

Nontawat Numbenchapol, Bangkok, classe 1983, quattro prove di regia a partire dal 2006 con Weirdrosopher World, sa raccontare storie scomode che, se gli valgono censure e restrizioni in patria, lo collocano fra i nomi più promettenti di quella nuova generazione di registi thailandesi che il successo internazionale di Apichatpong Weerasethakul negli ultimi anni sta contribuendo a far conoscere.
Presente quest’anno a Berlino, sezione Outsiders, con Boundary, storia di Aod, operaio ventiquattrenne incontrato sul set di un film thailandese, che gli racconta il suo passato di soldato al servizio del regime militare in Thailandia e in guerra contro la Cambogia, Numbenchapol parla di guerra e morte, caos e distruzione girando la macchina dalla parte delle vittime. Non vola un proiettile nel suo film, ma lo strazio non ne esce diminuito.
Anche in Sai nam tid shoer (By the River) la denuncia non è urlata, passa attraverso il formatdocumentario su cui s’innestano scarni frammenti di fiction. Fra i due poli “uomo nella natura” e “uomo contro la natura”, l’asse mediano è il fiume Klity, curiosamente chiamato il “ruscello”, che scorre nella provincia di Kanchanaburi, passa per Bangkok e sfocia nel Golfo di Thailandia. Protagonista di un disastro ambientale di portata ragguardevole, sulle sue rive sorge Lower Klity, villaggio abitato da una comunità di origini antiche, etnia karen, dedita alla pesca. Tutt’intorno respira, profonda, la foresta tropicale. Una piccola scuola, una giovane maestra che insegna a leggere ai bambini, un ragazzo con stampella che pesca nell’acqua bassa con un bastone, un gatto a cui fa coccole sopra un carretto insieme alla ragazza nella pausa delle lezioni. Una vecchia cieca, la nonna, che mastica noci di cocco, silenzi ovattati nella calura umida del meriggio. Numbenchapol si sposta con gradazione millimetrica verso il centro, restringe lentamente il campo intorno ai personaggi, porta il linguaggio al minimo. L’inquadratura fissa lascia il tempo di scrutare a lungo oggetti e registrare movimenti, i suoni della natura si smorzano nell’armonia di leggeri arpeggi di chitarra, ma intanto una sensazione di attesa cresce, fino a diventare un presagio funesto e indefinito. Alla metà circa dei settantun minuti del film gli indizi seminati prendono corpo.
L’acqua del fiume è inquinata dalle scorie di un impianto industriale che lavorava minerali a monte della zona. La fabbrica è chiusa da quattordici anni, ma ha lasciato sul letto uno strato di piombo e schiuma come di shampo, i pesci sono contaminati e la salute degli abitanti è stata compromessa gravemente.
Alcuni sono diventati ciechi, altri disabili, ma si continua a pescare quel pesce con mezzi primitivi, tuffandosi anche se c’è pericolo, anche se si riemerge con strane vertigini e si sa che le grotte sul fondo possono creare un risucchio che impedisce di tornare a galla. Sono i discorsi dei due ragazzi della prima parte a mettere in allarme. L’innesto della fiction sul documentario è impercettibile, i sottotitoli traducono voci distanti di una coralità paesana invisibile, ma è quella che sentiamo stringersi intorno alla famiglia che ha perso un figlio, annegato, forse per volere dell’oscuro spirito della foresta.
I gesti rituali di tradizioni antiche ora riprendono il loro ruolo, i bonzi intonano le litanie per il Buddha, si cucina a lungo per le offerte agli spiriti. Nel punto lungo il fiume in cui il corpo è stato cremato c’è la sua tomba, e lì vicino continuano a giocare i bambini e passa un pescatore con quattro pesci infilzati nel bastone da pesca a mano. A Bangkok i pochi abitanti di Klipy di cui nessuno più si ricordava hanno manifestato con cartelli, il funzionario del governo ha detto belle e giuste parole, l’hanno ascoltato sorridenti mentre li esortava a non mangiare quel pesce e ad usare i soldi della paga per comprarlo, se proprio non volevano mangiar carne. Ma quale paga? Siamo poveri.
Una miscela inedita fra presa diretta sul reale e dimensione sognante questa di Sai nam tid shoer, ottenuta con carrellate lente che dilatano le emozioni creando attesa. Le leggende ancestrali della terra affiorano, appena suggerite da una messa in scena sempre più rarefatta, convivono sullo stesso piano narrazione e silenzio totale, realtà e finzione, passato e futuro. Ciò che s’imprime nella visione diventa gusto amaro nella post-visione, le suggestioni della foresta tropicale, le apparizioni del fiume, ora scrosciante, ora calmo e maestoso, non risultano empatiche. Da quella massa d’acqua, che si scompone nelle rifrazioni della luce solare, emergono vicende politiche e sociali della Thailandia e di una realtà rurale che sta morendo. L’impatto con la modernità l’ha fermata e fermerà anche molto altro lungo la sua strada. Quell’acqua carica di piombo arriva fino a Bangkok per poi confluire, al termine della sua corsa, nel Golfo di Thailandia. Quindi, di passo in passo, nel gran padre Oceano.

indie eve…

“By the River (Sai Nam Tid Shoer): Film Review”
A review of By the River, Nontawat’s documentary on a Karen village living beside a lead-contaminated creek in Kanchanaburi — praised as a quiet, composed meditation on rural lives and environmental injustice.

Just months after gracing the Berlinale with Boundary – a documentary which touches on the once-deadly and still-festering frontier row between Thailand and Cambodia – Nontawat Numbenchapol has swiftly reappeared with yet another piece digging into yet another controversy set in his home country’s far-flung borderlands: By the River revolves around a village in western Thailand still reeling from the ecological disaster brought about by contamination from a leaking lead mine.

Not that By the River will be troubling Thai censors as Boundary did back in April though, when the film was initially banned from domestic release before the authorities backtracked two days later and granted permission for screenings: the issue at hand here is certainly less politically sensitive here, and Nontawat’s treatment also leans towards the contemplative and poetic than his previous film which, though hardly a hard-edged critique on the status quo, comprises mentions of fatalities of a government crackdown on demonstrations in 2010 and also a Cambodian soldier’s condemnation of the Thai government’s military maneuvers.

While certainly made with the palpable aim of raising debates about the environmental catastrophes rural dwellers have endured so as to keep cities (and their social elites) thriving, By the River conducts its argument by revealing gently the lingering pain and anguish beneath lush, pastoral vistas which have seemingly recovered from that deadly eco-calamity 15 years ago. Like Boundary, By the River would certainly build on the acclaim it has already received ever since its premiere at Locarno (where it was garlanded with a Special Mention nod), with its appearances at Yamagata, Hong Kong and (in a fortnight’s time) Luang Prabang signaling more stops on the festival circuit, and also green-themed events beyond Asia.

For the uninitiated, By the River could easily pass off as simply a depictment of rural life in Thailand: it will be nearly halfway into this 67-minute film that a combination of visuals (petitions at the town hall, court hearings) and on-screen text would bring to the fore the sufferings of Lower Klity, where its inhabitants – who belong to the Karen ethnic minority – felt the brunt of toxic waste seeping from a lead mine into the river which their lives depend on.

But the villager’s calm, quotidian existence and quiet laments – a man on crutches speaking to his listless friend about his and others’ physical ailments; a gentle schoolteacher helping local children to learn the alphabet; an old woman talking about her optic nerves shattered by exposure to the poison – only heightens the feeling of a haven lost, with these marginalized and hapless villagers becoming sacrifices for the well-being of the unseen urbanites out there in Bangkok. One of Nontawat’s on-screen texts ruminates how the Karen people’s tribute to their powerful rulers for four centuries is now just repaid by lead – and now these silent sufferings have remained unheard by the center. “Will the waste dumped 30 to 40 years ago finally reach the Gulf of Thailand?” the director asks through another intertitle; By the River is perhaps that catalyst designed to carry this message downwater more rapidly, more urgently.

Given how the catastrophe began because of a river’s flowing currents, Nontawat’s film puts nature and its elements the very center of its visual narrative. Water, of course, is omnipresent; the underwater scenes – in which boys prod the riverbed for fish, an act which also points to possible toxin which might have remained there – provides some kinetic counterpoint to mostly slow-burning sequences, such as the static observations of, say, how human life and poetic scenarios (a reflected moon slowly morphing into something akin an expanding star) burst out of the stream. And then there are the ashes, the remnants of burning embers and also the funereal pyre of a man recently deceased.

While Nontawat sometimes errs towards an excessive mournful tone (he could easily have cut back on the use of the fade-to-black) but By the River remains an enchanting piece which could bring forth more awareness of misery in the margins – which the Karen people are certainly confined to, an issue which has also been raised in October by Sopawan Boonnimitra and Peerachai Kerdsint‘s Busan festival entry The Isthmus. But while the latter is mired mid-way in between direct political engagement and melancholic meanderings, Nontawat’s offering goes straight for the unsaid to nudge people towards social advocacy, with engaging results.

Venue: Hong Kong Asian Film Festival
Production Companies: Ok-Pi-Dern and Mobilelab
Director: Nontawat Numbenchapol
Co-producer: Theepisit Mahaneeranonit
Executive Producers: Krittavit Rimtheparthip, Somchai Suwanban
Cinematographers: Withit Chanhamarit, Nontawat Numbenchapol, Grisda Saisungchalao, Gumpa Funfeo, Vichai Ogan Nasuanbarisut
Editor: Wasunan Hutawet
Music: Karen Musicians, Uncle Pachong, Auntie Meaonong In Karen and Thai
67 minutes

Hoolywood Reporter

After a rough start, Nontawat Numbenchapol is enjoying a rewarding year. On Sunday, the 66th Locarno International Film Festival in Switzerland, one of Europe’s oldest cinefests and a much-respected jamboree of art-house movies, awarded a Special Mention prize to his new film By The River, which tells the story of Lower Klity village in Kanchanaburi province, where residents have been affected by lead poisoning incidents.

The film’s Thai title is Maenam Tid Chua, or literally “infected river”. The version that won the prize in Locarno runs slightly over one hour, but the film was originally conceived and broadcast for the Thai PBS channel. The television version, which aired a few months ago, was only 22 minutes long.

The director, along with his producer at Ok Pai Dern company, will explore the possibility of releasing the full version in cinemas.

The Karen village of Klity has been in the news for decades after its main creek suffered lead contamination, a disastrous result of mining since the 1970s, which has seriously threatened the lives and well-being of villagers.

After lengthy legal battles, last year the Supreme Court made an important ruling by ordering the Pollution Control Department to clean up Klity Creek.

By The River, however, tells the story with the eye of an impressionist painter: the film largely consists of tranquil, breathtaking shots of the nature around the village, with minimal dialogue that only alludes to the fatal aftermath of the environmental horror. Children play and young men in the village still go spear-fishing _ and one of them becomes the latest victim of the contaminated creek that looks so inviting on the surface.

There’s only one section of the film that captures the scenes at a Bangkok court when the Karen villagers arrive for the hearing.

This is the second Nontawat documentary film to make the news this year.

On April 30, the director found himself in one of the year’s most perplexing headlines: his documentary film Boundary (Fah Tam Pandin Soong), which discusses the Thai-Cambodian border conflict, was banned by Thai censors _ only to be un-banned and cleared for screening two days later.

The film board even apologised to the director and said a “technical error” led to its initial decision.

Boundary had a limited release in cinemas in June.

By The River won the prize in the Cinema of the Present section, which focuses on young and up-and-coming filmmakers.

_ Kong Rithdee

Bangkok Post