Kavich Neang ends his feature debut White Building with a beautiful shot of his protagonist Samnang (Piseth Chhun) looking out enigmatically upon a Cambodian countryside cloaked in a darkening blue as the light gradually fades away. It’s a deeply satisfying image, both for its melancholy loveliness and for the sense of unknowable expectancy it conveys, and yet it also frustrates since it suggests we’ve been on a more nourishing journey than is the case. Neang’s semi-autobiographical feature has much to commend it, and its depiction of a traditional society moving from the stasis of trauma to parasitic capitalism is palpably felt, but its fitful energy and sympathetic yet undynamic characters work against the audience’s emotional investment. Following its Venice premiere the film was chosen as Cambodia’s Oscar submission, guaranteeing a certain amount of festival play helped by the involvement of Jia Zhang-ke as one of the co-producers.
Jia’s stylistic influence can be felt in the way Neang films matter-of-fact incidents ideally designed to build to a social critique. The premise of White Building comes straight from his own life: his family lived in the eponymous state-owned building in Phnom Penh until the government decided to sell to redevelopers, forcing everyone into buyouts before demolishing the structure in 2017. It formed the basis for his documentary Last Night I Saw You Smiling, and now he’s mined it for his fiction debut, looking to capture not just the story itself but the overall ramifications for a changing Phnom Penh and the way Cambodia’s newfound capitalism frays neighborhood ties, sabotaging traditional social structures. It’s a terrific premise and the film should feel more incisive than it does, though there’s quite a lot to commend here.
We’re first introduced to Nang (Samnang’s nickname) when he’s kicking a ball with his best friends Ah Kha (Chinnaro Soem) and Tol (Sovann Tho), the trio about to show off their hip-hop dance moves at a local restaurant in the hopes of earning some money from the diners. This section of the film represents the twilight of Nang’s teen years, the last nostalgic moment when he’s with his buddies, and from the motorbike they pile onto, the city feels like their playground. But they know this is the end: Ah Kha is about to emigrate with his family to France, and shortly thereafter Tol also fades out of Nang’s life.
The situation in Nang’s home is becoming ever more untenable: his sculptor father (Sithan Hout) is the head of the tenants’ association but he’s helpless in getting a consensus among the shareholders to resist the buyout package being offered. Depression is settling over the family as they face the near certainty of being forced out of their home, and Nang’s father’s refusal to treat his worsening diabetes means his gangrenous toe will need amputation. The rotting toe, also based on the director’s father’s story, is an almost too perfect symbol of the rotting social fabric; his father wants to treat it with traditional remedies, but that can’t stop the encroaching putrefaction, just as nothing they do will halt the destruction of the building they call home, with all its consequences.
It’s more than just the building, of course: as with most modern cities, once a family is forced to leave their dwelling, it’s almost impossible to find an affordable space in the same area. It means they’re not just torn from their homes, but their neighborhoods, their social support systems. Once they’re forced to move, the family go to their ancestral village but it’s not by choice, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead weighs heavily on all.
Neang’s influences unsurprisingly include Apichatpong Weerasethakul, especially noticeable in (though hardly limited to) a dream sequence inspired by the director’s own disturbing vision of his father standing in the building’s crumbling long corridor. While there’s a certain thematic parallel with Kleber Mendonça Filho’s Aquarius, the two films are stylistically and tonally miles apart – a more sharply drawn protagonist, as in the Brazilian tour-de-force, would have given White Building the underlying propulsion it needs (Piseth Chhun won the Orizzonti Award for Best Actor in Venice, and while he’s good, the performance feels rather passive). Oddly, Phnom Penh remains an elusive city, shot in dark saturated colors that shift to softer hues once the action moves to the countryside
Director: Kavich Neang
Screenplay: Kavich Neang, Daniel Mattes
Cast: Piseth Chhun, Sithan Hout, Sokha Uk, Chinnaro Soem, Sovann Tho, Jany Min, Chandalin Y
Producers: Davy Chou, Marine Arrighi de Casanova
Co-producers: Rotha Moeng, Brandon Hashimoto, Loy Te, Jia Zhang-ke
Cinematography: Douglas Seok
Production design: Kanitha Tith, Anne-Sorya Fitte
Costume design: Sovettorn Chea
Editing: Félix Rehm
Music: Jean-Charles Bastion
Sound: Vincent Villa, Sopheakdey Touch
Production companies: Anti-Archive (Cambodia), Apsara Films (France), Xstream Pictures (China), Kongchak Pictures (Cambodia)
World sales: Les Films du Losange
Venue: El Gouna Film Festival (Feature Narrative Competition)
In Khmer
90 Minutes
