Bhairava Sívam
So, we’re all stuck at home (if you have one) because of the Movement Control Order.
So, some of us are supposed to be writing essays and some of us are supposed to be making sales over skype/zoom/whatsapp.
So, you’ve read the messages and proceeded to hoard toilet paper, milo, rice, maggi, hand sanitizer, face masks, and of course, Warm Water!
And what do we end up doing?
Why, binge watch our favourite streaming sites of course!!
Today I would like to share a short movie review for The Platform, which is available on Netflix.
[No, Netflix is not paying any of us to write this, they aren’t even giving us free 1 month subscription. Netflix if you’re reading this, please give me free subscription and I will review 1 movie of my choice every week, I promise!]
The Platform (or El Hoyo, its original title) is a Spanish language, sci-fi thriller directed by Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia, produced by Basque films and distributed by Netflix. It debuted at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2019 and is currently available on Netflix.
Ok everything after this part involves spoilers, so if you like surprises, please go watch it. Sorry, didn’t mean to give you (more) homework!
The film takes place entirely in, and is premised around a unique prison; which is shaped like a tower with hundreds of floors, and every floor has a hole in the centre (yeah, just like a mall). Each prison cell takes up the entire floor, and is shared between 2 prisoners. The finest gourmet food is prepared at the very top, and then passed down on a table that descends from the highest floor all the way to the lowest floor (stopping at every floor for a short, fixed time interval).
Here’s the first punchline, fellow Malaysians, the plot revolves around the limited quantities of food which descends from top down, and the main character’s name is… GORENG!
I don’t know if the director is a fan of nasi/mee/maggi goreng, but somehow that’s the Spaniard’s name.
The mechanics of the prison:
This is a dystopia, and it appears that the prison is run by an organisation, where people are sent for reformative and custodial sentences, as well as a voluntary rehabilitative institution to acquire certificates (for surviving, I guess?) and escapism (oh the irony!).
There is no outside, no yard, no communal bathrooms or areas besides everyone’s cells.
Since there’s a big square hole carved into everyone’s floor, you can see a bit of every cell below, and technically jump down into the abyss below.
There are 2 people assigned to every cell/level. If your cellmate dies, you get a new one… no questions asked.
Every inmate is allowed to bring in 1 item of their choice, which will follow them around. Oh yeah, all prisoner pairs are randomly allotted to a floor, and then gassed in the middle of the night and swapped to a lower/higher floor, along with their cell mate, once a month.
The food descends on some kind of a floating table, and as you can imagine, the people on the highest floor get first choice of how much and what they consume, and then as time goes on the food descends down to the lower levels…
Now, by this point in the review, I know some of you are probably wondering:
What if one of the prisoners from the upper floors spits in the food?
What if one of the prisoners from the upper floors takes a piss over the hole as the food descends?
What if one of the prisoners takes the pineapples from the pudding and puts it on the pizza?
What if all the prisoners in the upper 10 floors eat all the food and leave nothing but scraps behind for the people below?
Who gets to decide which prisoners get into the upper levels and who are in the middle and lower class?
Can the prisoners in lower floors request for food or lodge a complaint if they have no food?
Wait, how many floors are there in this prison, you didn’t say?
Why would anyone voluntarily enrol themselves into this prison/living hell; no certificate or food seems worth it?
Are there children and senior citizens roped into this madness?
How is this system of distributing food/basic necessities in an enclosed space/economy from which these prisoners cannot escape, fair?
Why are Muhyiddin and Zafrullah giving bailouts to airline and electronic companies but asking me to use my pension fund to pay the electricity/water bills?
…
Whoa, slow down there, I know you have many questions, and I did say there were spoilers, but I can’t flat out ruin the movie for you beautiful people!
Please do try and watch the movie, but maybe not on a full stomach. Oh, and do pass the popcorn/ peanuts/ keropok/ murukku on to the next person – don’t be stingy!
By the way, I would like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to all prisoners and incarcerated persons during this covid pandemic period. As society’s least cared for minority, stigmatised, often last thought of, hated, and yet confined into such small, restrictive spaces; they are some of the most at risk if the virus spreads within the prison walls. Visits from loved ones which keep them going are also limited, much like medical facilities. All the people at home complaining about being cooped up and drifting into insanity on social media – try imagining what it’s like being in prison!
Prisons don’t reduce crime or restore society.
Prisons punish the underprivileged and breed more injustice and crime.