The Act of Killing Essay - what aspects are manipulative to the spectator?

"What aspects of TAOK strike you as manipulative after just one viewing?"

- Documentary modes, techniques, evidence of narrative and positioning of the spectator

The Act Of Killing (TAOK) exposes the militant executions that targeted accused communists in 1960s Indonesia and the continued corruption of such power since - told through the celebrated 'gangsters' who perpetrated the executions. In relation to Nichols' documentary modes, TAOK utilises and jumps between observational, interactive, and some elements of poetic that highlight the raw, destructive, and ironic corruptions of Indonesia's political history. The film, while seemingly faithful in presenting the horrors and attitudes of its focused events and 'characters',- the fact that they are credited as characters is in itself an interesting issue to discuss, relating to the documentary medium having an attraction to constructing a form of storytelling for entertainment, thus raising the issue of documentary having an unreliable relationship to the truth - positions the spectator to view such content, perhaps, through a manipulated lens. 

The director's - Joshua Oppenheimer -unsound handling of - a poetically and theatrically displayed - fiction and non-fiction in the film indicates it is manipulated content. Like many other documentaries of a similar mode(s), this film seems to suggest a conventional 3 Act Structure, with named 'characters' presenting functions, archetypes, and narrative arcs. The most probable example of this is the focused character, Anwar, who serves as the protagonist and his heavily encouraged narrative arc; a redemption one, which I will return to later. As soon as the film begins, Oppenheimer presents a quote that relates - subjectively directly or indirectly, perhaps encouraged to interpret directly as supported by Oppenheimer's later-exampled filmmaking modes - to the forthcoming presentations of the film's subject matter. This precedes the establishing fantastical and oniric sequence of traditionally-dressed women dancing in the foreground to a waterfall, directed by authoritative men who intend to fabricate this 'reality', shouting 'this is not fiction!'. Oppenheimer has therefore established these men to be liars, yet when they proudly explain their executions, there is no evaluation of that truth, even though their deceitful corruptions are portrayed satirically. While this oniric fantasy sequence is seen to be outrageously disapproving and corrupt to the spectator, the contrast of this bright imagery to the establishing shot of urban Indonesian streets, with capitalist advertisements and 'third-world' poverty as the title shows - telling the spectator that the real truth of the documentation begins now as a long text narrates the historical context of the documentary and how the perpetrators 'proudly' showed them what they did - the spectator is shown the two displays of fiction and truth, appearing intertwined and blurred: if the first images are blatantly fictional and untrue, then the written words of Oppenheimer with its realistic background establishes the historical and truthful perspective that the film is to be viewed. Ironically, the documentary is constructed with a fictional storyline as Oppenheimer films the production of a fictional movie made and acted by the perpetrators, intended to frame their own actions as heroic. This fictional representation of the truthful past, performed by non-fictional characters, claims to be 'true' even though its very premise contradicts. 

In relation to apparent character function, Oppenheimer positions us to view Herman as comic relief - a sidekick to Anwar with lesser intellect. Frequently, there are intervals between the shocking re-enactments and interviews that provide, mostly satirical, comedy that point out the ironies of the state's ideology, through an L cut. For example, as Herman reveals how rallies are fabricated, wherein every participant is paid to attend, Oppenheimer cuts to a Pancasila youth rally with a sound bridge of Herman continuing to talk. Such irony works in favour of the documentary and effectively highlights the ruling power's corruption without seeming unfaithful in representing them, even though the editing is manipulating the spectator to see this ironic distinction clearly. 

Often throughout the film, reality and (non)fictional re-enactments overlap, with the camera and editing relying on intimate evidence of the perpetrator's caused damage to evoke an emotional response from the spectator rather than presenting the footage from an observational distance; while Oppenheimer rarely interferes with the moral discussions the men have between themselves about the justification of their committed crimes, avoiding an expository voice-over who could guide our interpretation of the perpetrators’ performances and confessions, along with the lack of archival footage, he utilises other more performative audible and visual methods which subtly persuade the spectator to inhabit: we identify with the camera and thus Oppenheimer's unseen presence. Such reliance is exampled during most of the re-enactments of the crimes and interrogations. For example, as Anwar acts as a victim being interrogated and then strangled by wire, he tells Herman to hit the table to scare him in order to seem more convincing - Oppenheimer crafts this as a fictional film scene, placing the spectator with Anwar's experience by remaining at a mid-shot, obscuring Herman's sudden hit to make the spectator react with Anwar. As the scene ends, there is a long take of Anwar sitting motionless, an important development in his redemption arc as it allows the spectator to see a heavy reflection on his experience and how he could perhaps identify with those victims he treated in the same way. While the narrative is told through the perpetrator's experience of the events to allow the spectator to ingest the banality of their corruptive evil actions, the filmmakers lean towards the actors within these re-enactments who perform as the victims, showcasing the intensity of the scene and therefore the actions they committed to the real victims - often close-up shots of the victims that obscure the perpetrators from view, rather experiencing their improvised shouts of order and abuse that positions the spectator within the emotional scope of the victims; this is all seemingly performative as they film this footage for a fictional film, therefore Oppenheimer overlaps this fiction with reality as he includes footage that obscures any evidence of the documentary filmmaking process - distancing from the established interactive mode of documentary - in favour of positioning the spectator to theatrically experience the horrors of the executions. Non-diegetic sound is used to evoke an emotional response that deflects attention from the real world and indirectly represents the footage and people involved. One of the most poignant examples of this is during the re-enactment of Pancasila youth burning down a village. The camera utilises low angles for the youth members to manipulate the spectator to identify with the performing victims of the burning - the women and crying children - while incessant shouts, cries, and screams dominate the sound, placed against theatrical shots within this burning, the camera seeing through the fire to performatively experience the destruction and pain. Slowly non-diegetic music that fluctuates in a high pitch and surreal rhythm plays; such sound emphasises the shots to manipulate the spectator to be engaged with the performative documentary mode over authenticity of the actual fictitious re-enactment; Oppenheimer wants this to serve as the truth, to see this scene as the actual event that happened during the 1960s. 

The film is also manipulative and/or incautious in representing groups of people and their complicated morals, politics, and attitudes, which Oppenheimer, although unseen and politically unprovoking to the perpetrators, largely presents in one black-and-white moral lens. Adi is the only character to articulate a hinted guilt on his conscience by stating how he is aware that they were cruel in their executions after a re-enactment of a communist interrogation; he seems to advocate for the blunt truth rather than tiptoeing around a fabricated biased history like the other men and serves as a truth-teller within the narrative, a much-needed higher intellect to offer these perspectives to the spectator, and therefore pushing Anwar's character development, conveniently shown to be present during the middle of the film to keep new thoughts/characters to engage the spectator, offering a contrasting view on the crimes, even though by earlier footage of Anwar that introduced his redemption arc, Adi would have re-entered his life at that point - evidencing the film's manipulated characters in order to fulfil a narrative. One overt point of discussion is the fractured chronology of the film. Anwar explains he killed 'happily' - cut, leaving no further justification for his brief thoughts, to a chronologically altered scene, marked by Anwar's change in clothes and hair colour, where he and other men sing and drink alcohol. This is the first pivotal hint at his suggested redemption arc, with him expressing his 'bad dreams' and thus perpetrator guilt, offering the spectator a reason to continue watching the horrific reenactments and corruptions in order to see an optimistic change in the 'characters' by the end, a black-and-white resolution to the genocide's aftermath. This leaves no evaluation or nuance to the complicated political issue, with selected, brief context to back up the filmed content and thus the filmmaker's potential intention at allowing these historically unmarked horrors to be scoffed at by western viewers, and revisited by the Indonesian people. Oppenheimer habitually cuts away from interview subjects after they have said something morally shocking or embarrassing (often Herman, as suggested to be an unintelligent comic relief) - a way to manipulate the audience into viewing these men as pathetic and evil - a perhaps spectator moral superiority at looking disapprovingly at these men's ignorance. 

Anwar's character function - as a confrontation, to the subsequent moral reflection of the war crimes - is used as a tool to express the film's conscious aim to address the expected guilt and pain caused by the executions, while making no attempt in evaluating the truth of Anwar's confessions. His arc is fulfilled during the final scene - a complete shift of language as he emotionally addresses his murdered victims as 'human beings' who he 'took life' from rather than the proud demonstrations of the killing method and happy dancing displayed at the start. There is a noticeable absence of shifting cuts after this final dialogue, replaced with full-body long takes to emphasise the weight of his guilt and complete the narrative as he starts to retch without any intended result. Theoretically, the audience has been recompensed for their time and interest, yet Anwar's remorse is not useful for anything except resolving the narrative, even though the scene is manipulated chronologically by his change in costume and hair colour; the same colour it was near the very start as he re-enacted his killing method.  When viewing this for the first time, I confess I wanted Anwar to vomit after continuous retching to see that literal release of guilt which was anticipated from the start, yet the continued manipulated content re-evaluates this scene as potentially performative or misplaced, not adhering to Oppenheimer's own establishment at his documentary being the ultimate revelation of the horrific truth behind the perpetrator's corruptive lies.