Arnold Is a Model Student (Arnon pen nakrian tuayang)

QUICK SNAP: LIVE FROM LOCARNO

Schools are paradoxical places: you learn about the benefits of democracy in a place which is essentially a dictatorship. The virtues of free speech and debate are praised in a world where you have to stick to a strict regimen and follow the rules otherwise you will be suspended or expelled. Additionally, as a young person, you are not even allowed to vote yet, meaning that while you learn about the freedom of the world around you, your impact on it is severely limited.

But in countries with an authoritarian bent, such as Thailand, which is a constitutional monarchy that allows no criticism of the King whatsoever and was ruled by a military junta until 2019, school doesn’t necessarily seem to contrast against the government itself; in fact, it compliments it. Within an authoritarian system, teachers are able to wield strict control over their students while the rot of corruption quickly seeps in.

It’s within this world that we meet the titular Arnold (Korndanai Marc Dautzenberg). Recently returning from an exchange in the USA, he is both a smart student — recently winning a maths olympiad — and a smart-aleck, feeling himself above and beyond the rest of his Thai contemporaries while sometimes toying with the idea of making of a difference. Like many coronavirus-set films recently, his rebellious streak is best complimented by the fact he rarely wears his mask, as well as taking naps in class and talking back to teachers. Think Max Fischer with a bald head and a passive attitude to life.

Director Sorayos Prapapan eases us into the material, giving us a great sense of school life — from the girlish games to the minutiae of classroom lessons to the boys sneaking in drinks in the backyard before weaving in two distinct plot-lines: the rebellion of the students against corporal punishment in school — inspired by the real Bad Student movement in Thailand — and Arnold’s new job working for an exam-cheating service. Armed with exceptional talent, Model Student asks whether it’s worth trying to make a genuine difference within the system or to try and exploit it for your own ends.

If the two plot-lines don’t intersect as satisfyingly as they should, it suits the distanced, often-resigned tone of the film. Using static, planimetric frames, allowing the angles of the school building to intersect with the camera at 90 and 45 degree angles, the film has an ironic detachment that recalls the work of Aki Kaurismäki and Roy Andersson more than South Asian cinema. But Prapapan isn’t a slave to his own style either, knowing when to move the camera, switch to handheld, or insert some comic sound effects (which shouldn’t work but somehow do). The final result is an easily watchable satire that shows great confidence from a first-time feature director, as well as the kind of raw sincerity that often gets smoothed away by someone’s second and third films. It will be fascinating to see how this style is developed in further features. I hope there will be many.

Arnold is a Model Student runs as part of the Concorso Cineasti del presente section of Locarno Film Festival, running from 3-13th August.

Rebellion

Believe it or not, climate change is a real problem, one that often gets disregarded as a farce, or supported with an untrustworthy facade of care and worry. For causes dedicated to climate change, it takes a serious group of activists to come together and take the fight to the doorstep of power, and Extinction Rebellion answered that call in 2018. Members were recruited like a team of Avengers, all of whom hail from different walks of life and offer certain expertise and pragmatic insights – billionaire playboys with suits of armour they are not, more like dedicated, green-fingered farmers eager to break the rules.

Directed by Maia Kenworthy and Elena Sánchez Bellot, Rebellion is the first behind-the-scenes story of the Extinction Rebellion movement, an organisation for people that wanted to tackle the climate change problem with forceful hands. The extremely personal footage shows the cause on a rollercoaster of success; capturing humanistic dramas and the painstaking stresses that the climate emergency has on people. You might think this is some hippy-dippy hocus pocus, but this intricately assembled team are just regular people; students, farmers, lawyers, all of them possessing one common goal, to make people aware of the issue.

This was a movement that appeared all over the national news, and yet, a lot of the coverage was about unsettled locals and exasperated work commuters (a narrative that was pushed far too strongly by the press), even though there was a much more prominent issue bubbling up from within. Rebellion is a film that uncovers the problems that arose, and perfectly showcased the meticulous planning and structure of a movement such as this. Very alike to the Hong Kong film Faceless (Jenniger Ngo, 2022), in the way it highlights the everyday details and the forceful execution that is needed to deliver such passionate planning, as well as discreetly portraying the movement as a family-like resistance fighting for one cause.

What makes Rebellion so personal is the tandem relationship between the camera and the specific structure of the narrative. Consisting of interviews with a range of prominent members of the cause, but it is the extreme close-ups in these interviews that allows us to see the angst on these people’s faces, or to watch the cogs turning in many of these congested minds – if the notion isn’t already there that this subject is a worrying one, then looking deep into these people’s eyes, or seeing their fibres twitch will change that. There is a moral dilemma attached to these people throughout the film though, the interviews accentuate this by having the subject interviews conducted after the events; with the people looking back over their actions with such a variety of opinions – do they regret certain actions? Would they change the events in hindsight? Possibly. But the same passion will always be there.

Throughout the film, there is a constant battle between good and bad; the customary figures of virtue (the law enforcement) are now on the wrong side of the battle, with the rule-breaking activists now firmly being the positive force for once. And yet, the line of morality is persistently flipped on its head as the film progresses and the acts of Extinction Rebellion continued to blur this line; people from within the organisation are often wanting to force matters into more extreme ways, as one member says, “there is always an attraction to mindless violence”. The de facto leader of “XR”, Roger (the farmer with the tunnel vision), is a prime example of blurring this morality, acting like a dictator of sorts – it’s his way or the highway in some cases. Is such a cause worth losing your daughter over? Sometimes leadership isn’t for everyone, which we know is often the case.

Politically fuelled documentaries can be very hit and miss, a lack of interest in the film’s subject is sometimes the cause of their downfall, but Rebellion just hits a little bit different, and it might just be because of the main theme, which is something that affects us all. The way it is structured is one of its most effective tools though; filmed as if it is a covert ops mission – a target has been chosen, and they must initiate a plan of action. Rebellion really explores the point of the film in an exciting and engaging way but continues to be informative and eye-opening, which is the main purpose of a film like this.

Rebellion is in cinemas on Friday, March 18th. On Netflix on Wednesday, June 29th.