A dreamlike exploration of grief and maternal regret defines Ibuku, the fourth feature from Indonesian writer-director Eddie Cahyono. Currently playing in competition at the Busan Film Festival, the film examines the collateral damage of the migrant worker crisis through the eyes of a family left behind.
Although the title translates to “my mother” and suggests a first-person narrative, the story is primarily viewed through Sumiati (Christine Hakim), a recent widow and former Javanese dance performer. Sumiati struggles to gather funds to travel to Saudi Arabia, where her daughter, Sri (Ayushita Nugraha), has been sentenced to death after killing her employer, who was also attempting to rape her.
The film opens with Sri’s perspective, showing her surrounded by projections of her mother as she expresses a wish to hate her. This complex emotion stems from a childhood marked by abandonment and an abusive arranged marriage—one that Sumiati orchestrated out of desperation to pay off her late husband’s gambling debts. Years later, Sumiati learns of her daughter’s conviction and must borrow money from villagers to attempt a visit.
Cahyono, who has cited personal experiences with economic migration as inspiration for the film, grounds this universal theme in the specific exploitation faced by migrant workers. The director balances societal critique with an intimate focus on Sumiati’s culpability, suggesting that her actions contributed to the tragedies befalling her daughter both at home and abroad.
Hakim carries the film’s emotional weight in a performance defined by stillness and sorrow. Cinematographer Ika Salim employs observational camerawork that lingers on Sumiati’s face as she performs rituals of cooking, dancing, and spelunking. These sequences are often bathed in a grainy, spiritual haze, particularly in scenes involving glowing orange water found deep within cave roots, emphasizing the lingering presence of Sri and her late husband.
The village is anchored by the character of Chief Djatmiko (Landung Simatupang), who navigates his own moral reckonings with Sumiati. However, the film’s ethereal tone occasionally falters when Cahyono employs overtly surreal imagery, such as the ghost of Sumiati’s suicide-wielding husband watching from a tree, or Sumiati appearing suspended by invisible wires during an unauthorized dance.
Despite these minor tonal shifts, Ibuku remains a compelling study of parental failure and redemption. The striking opening sequence, which silhouettes Sri against footage of her mother’s traditional Jathilian dance, effectively establishes the powerful, albeit impossible, communication between them.
A heavy watch, but so necessary. The migrant worker crisis deserves more global attention through films like this.
Christine Hakim is breathtaking here. The cave scenes felt surreal, but her stillness carried the entire emotional weight.