Set in director Alvin B. Yapan’s hometown of
Baao, The House by the Bamboo Grove
resembles an abstract painting of nature and human in a single canvas,
seemingly idyllic yet deeply perplexing.
Michelle is a recluse who devotes most of her
time to traditional embroidery, living in her beloved bamboo house even as her
parents move away and the entire world moves on. The film endeavours to portray
the house – and the items in it – as objects that stand by a life of their own.
When a pair of scissors disappears, Michelle thinks it is telling her to stay;
as bamboo rafts float along the river, we get a sense that it is beckoning us
somewhere.
The connection that Michelle feels towards
her surroundings is somewhat incomprehensible to the ordinary man. Just like
how she loves the bamboo house, the house makes love to her – literally, in a bizarre
masturbation scene where ferns envelope (embrace) her body. It is a connection
that is intimate, but also bordering on obsessive and insane. Conceivably, this
mystical duality is where the film attempts to summon its dramatic tension; the
graceful motion of pulling thread is juxtaposed against the decisive slaughter
of a chicken, the chatter of children interspersed with the sinister hammering
of wood. Even Michelle’s thoughts echo with a split personality.
This latent tension intensifies when other
humans “invade” her space, evidently so when Larry, a documentary filmmaker
pays a visit. More of Michelle’s peculiar dreams play out in vignettes, a particularly
traumatizing one of being violated by Larry. Interestingly, this resembles an insidious
critique on documentary filmmaking and its dangers of exploitation.
The
House by the Bamboo Grove is an ambitious film, in that it challenges its audience
to closely observe the interactions between humans and objects (and not merely
watch the actors). That particular stone in focus, the mechanical movement of
an ant, the spinning beetle tied on a string. As the universes of random items,
insects and vegetation interweave, the film suggests an alternate way of living.
It does not attempt to always make sense; it simply presents (wo)man and his
attachment to our environment as it is.
The film is a courageous venture by Yapan to
explore the concept of vitality of life around us, but unfortunately, its lack
of narrative clarity and haphazard pacing makes the film a tad laborious to
watch.
Review
by Amelia Tan
This review is part of the Asian
Feature Film Competition at the Singapore International Film Festival
2015. Read more about the film here.
Written by SINdie
