It won't surprise many that Bety Reis and Luigi Acquisto's film deals directly with the bloody 24 year occupation of their country, an occupation that left over a quarter of the population dead. Nor should it. That conflict stands as one of our region's most enduring shames. What may surprise is that while their decades-spanning narrative scopes in a considerable overview of the East Timorese struggle for independence from the Indonesians, it also finds space for a modest retelling of the case of 16th century impostor, Martin Guerre.
Irim Tolentino plays Beatriz, a young woman whose timid husband, Tomas, disappears during the massacre of Kraras. Beatriz is left with Tomas' sister, Teresa (Augusta Soares), to organise the village's widows in a clandestine rebellion against their Indonesian captors, led by Captain Sumitro (Gaspar Sarmento). Fifteen years later Tomas returns to the village to claim his birthright, though Beatriz, despite her growing feelings for the man, cannot bring herself to believe he is who he claims to be.
Being the product of such a newborn film industry, much of Beatriz's War, quite understandably, lacks the polish of more mature productions. Its performances, though moving, often feel uncomfortably self-conscious. The narrative is similarly ill at ease. Many scenes are left hanging as the screen fades (all too often) to black, while others appear out of nowhere. Thankfully, Beatriz's omnipresent voice over smooths out the bulk of the transitions. The audience may have to put a little extra work in during the film's first half but it pays off and by the time Tomas returns back home the film's narrative skittishness has well and truly settled down.
In the scheme of things, these are minor criticisms for a film that is, all in all, a remarkable achievement. The impressive reach of the film's scope, its intriguing cultural co-option should most definitely be celebrated. The story of Guerre has time and again proved itself to be an effective framework for the exploration of emotional dislocation and here, when laid over a genocide that left over a quarter of East Timor's population dead, the result is soberingly personal. Tolentino captures Beatriz's torn emotions in a suitably raw performance, and her hope and her devastation stand in for the entire nation's.
Beatriz's War is an important piece of cinema, and not only because of its status as East Timor's first film. It is the release of a long stifled scream, a funereal wail to recognise the innumerate souls who lost their lives in the post-colonial vacuum. It is also a timely reminder of how horribly the Timorese suffered at the hands of the Indonesians, while the perpetrators of these atrocities (and those who watched from the sidelines with oil in their throats) remain unpunished. Prabowo Subianto, who gave the order that spurred the film's central slaughter is now one of the favoured candidates in the 2014 Indonesian presidential elections. Now, wouldn't it be good if the Australia Network played this film in Indonesia during the presidential campaign. Not bloody likely.
★★★
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