Yuni

"Yuni" causes one to leave the theatre in a stage of deep, introspective thought about their life and value of their choices. A character-focused and vibrant picture pinned amongst an otherwise dreary backdrop of crumbling, urbanized cityscape, Kamila Andini's third feature masters the powerful grace of femininity, represented by a character embodying wisdom and power with a childish awe.

A film dripping with Naturalistic beauty, unhindered by the frills of intricate camerawork and sets, "Yuni" feels as though it just so happened to be documented. It simply exists as all life does, allowing you to see what you wouldn't normally. Highlighted by actor chemistry, the feelings of raw tears, the rarely-spoken-about uncomfortability of a young, lusting body and an unsuredness of what to do with it--are spoken through the narratives of friendship, family and the unknown future.

Highlighted by ever-so-gentle strings, the film's scarcity of music and gentility of spoken word suggest deep melancholy and patience. Andini's film speaks just as much in its silence as it does in its words. The production (Ifa Isfansyah) and sound (Lim Ting Li, Alexis Rault) are wondrous and contextually apropos.

Bathed in natural light both literally and in metaphor, "Yuni" viscerally portrays the harsh realities of womanhood in Muslim culture. Surrounded by difficult themes of sex, marriage and a forced sense of maturity, Arawinda Kirana (Yuni) masterfully exudes the qualities of a young girl, full of uncertain hope and struggle. Surrounded by societal affirmations of "luckiness" regarding arranged marriage, she conveys the uncertainty we all would feel if pressured to marry young, unpreparedly.

One would be remiss not to highlight Kevin Ardilova's Yoga, an admirer of Yuni and poet-extraordinaire. His clunky yet loving awkwardness is comically endearing, filled with skittish hope and desire with little confidence to act upon it. He serves as a mirror to every boy with a love interest at that age, in the funniest and kindest of ways.

"Yuni", in a word, could be captured by subtlety. Not only in its style, but also in the nuance of unceremoniousness seen in its characters and their interactions with each other. Never over-preaching its themes, it exemplifies social commentary film at peak self-reflectivity and honesty. Filmed with a subtle documentary style and colorful aura comparable to Barry Jenkins' 2016 Oscar winner "Moonlight", "Yuni" is a fantastic entry point into the lovely world of international cinema.

Award-winning director Bong Joon Ho's claim still rings true: "Once you overcome the one-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films."

Indonesia's official entry to 2022's Oscars is a very good coming-of-age. It's simple yet powerful and sensational. It tackles interesting important topics like sexual awakening, virginity, early marriages, girls' dreams and access to education in a conservative traditional society. But it feels incoherent and distant sometimes due to having too many subjects to portray, it doesn't take one clear path to follow.

The better and more advanced Indonesian film is, I am very proud. Hoping to get better and have more character in promoting Indonesian local values. Success in competing with foreign films.

Obsessed with the color purple and confident in her dreams, Yuni is close to graduating from high school. Her grades are good, her parents supportive, and her future bright. This is until the unexpected and unwanted marriage proposals begin. Some are from total strangers and much older men. Marriage is a "blessing" people insist. Maybe so, but there seems to be no other path for women to choose, or a way for them to choose who they want to walk with. "I used to think I can do anything in life," Yuni says "now I don't anymore." She doesn't know what she wants, but it doesn't make her future dark. Together with a sympathetic boyfriend and a strong female mentor, Yuni plots her path in life. But it may not be up to her.

In Indonesia there are few options for women other than marriage and it is lucky if she has any say in the matter at all. This personal, intimate, and enthralling portrait of a young woman's emotional life reveals these constraints. The camera work is playful, moody, and colorful, like Yuni herself. Sounds and scenes reveal her emotional state. When Yuni is frustrated there is constant construction noise in the background or rainfall. When she is happy and feeling free she is at the seashore or riding her purple moped. Yuni's vital message is that girls are not allowed to participate fully in the world, but they need to.

World premiere seen at the Toronto international film festival. Winner of the platform prize.

What I like about Yuni, it feels honest with the dialogues, dynamics, and the characters. It doesn't shy away from the fact that they are not knowing technology, the contradiction between religious and cultural values, the merit of education in the coastline society. Rather than preaching, Yuni ask us to just follow and feel what she feels.

The honesty allows Yuni to build itself by putting little piece of sequences (e.g. Marriage proposals, friend's weddings, inclusion of side characters), which resembles life in its organic fashion. This type of narration risks to be dragging and boring, but Yuni with its simplicity manage us not only to engage until the end, but to care for the characters.

The ending is a little letdown since it's turning different than the whole vibe of the movie (hence 9/10), but I feel like it's an honor to the girls who already endure the reality. I recommend Yuni for those who enjoy movies like Siti, Perempuan Punya Cerita, Berbagi Suami, and Dua Garis Biru.