ICON
YASMIN AHMAD
There were Malaysians who considered her work to be nothing but pencemar budaya—or cultural smear—because she celebrated sensuality and also advocated love stories between those who were Malay-Muslim and those who were not.
The sensuality that she celebrated can best be understood through the Sufi concept of selfless love between human beings as being a metaphor for the ultimate love of humans for God. One of her favourite quotes—which she attributed to a Jewish expression—is, ‘How can you love God if you can’t even love human beings?’
She wasn’t our only female filmmaker (Shuhaimi Baba and Erma Fatima are two others), but women directors in Malaysia are still a minority. When someone once asked her why she and her female characters did not wear the hijab, she wondered back as to why people didn’t criticise male soccer players for exposing their knees.
But her feminism (although she did not make a big deal of the word, just as she distrusted all political ‘ism’s) can more accurately be seen as part of a humanist vision in which every person has not only rights but also responsibilities, as we are all part of the same family.
She first became famous through commercials from the mid-1990s, which she continued to make until the end of her life. Many of these were for the Malaysian oil firm Petronas and were aired in conjunction with the many public holidays in Malaysia: Independence Day, the Islamic Eid ul Fitr, Chinese New Year and the Hindu’s Deepavali. These commercials did not try to sell us petrol but instead told little stories, or parables, about the society we live in. Frequently sentimental, heart-tugging and sometimes hilarious, her commercials are even more popular in Malaysia than her feature films.
Yes, there are some cynics who think her work is too sentimental. She liked to quote the Indian writer Arundhati Roy on that one, ‘Why are you so afraid of your sentiments?’ Yes, she could be seen as a dreamer because she possessed an idyllic vision on how people could get along if we just let go of our hangups and egos. In line with the title of this article, Yasmin was also a big fan of the films of Indonesian director Riri Riza, although she didn’t live long enough to see his latest film, Sang Pemimpi—the dreamer.
When someone once asked her why she and her female characters did not wear the hijab, she wondered back as to why people didn’t criticise male soccer players for exposing their knees
But her feature-length films, Rabun (My Failing Eyesight), Sepet (Chinese Eyes), Gubra (Anxiety), Mukhsin, Muallaf (The Convert) and Talentime—all released between 2003 and 2009—helped propel her to the world stage. They were shown and awarded prizes in many foreign festivals. Most films in Malaysia are only in Malay, but she saw our multicultural heritage as a blessing rather than a burden, which is how her films gained their colourful mix of languages and people. This is in accordance with Surah al-Hujurat: 13,
which says, ‘O mankind! We created you from a single (pair) of a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that ye may know each other (not that ye may despise [each other]).’
Although it wasn’t her biggest hit, Sepet is the film that resonated the most with the Malaysian public. It was brave for her to make a film where the two lead characters were played by complete newcomers. It was also set in the Malaysian city of Ipoh rather than the clichéd one of Kuala Lumpur. These alone gave hints that she wanted to encourage people to see anew, to not rely on only the safe way of doing things, and also to champion the underdog!
She said that the best advice she ever received was from her mother, Mak Inom, ‘Don’t be afraid of those who seem to be above you, and don’t look down on people who seem to be beneath you’
Despite her international achievements she always shared with people—especially the young, in whom she saw hope. She hosted screenings of her favourite films at her office in the Leo Burnett Kuala Lumpur agency, and even helped to fund short films made by new directors. If anything, she was actually nicer to well-meaning students than she was to several high-ranking people in the film industry and political establishment.
She said that the best advice she ever received was from her mother, Mak Inom, ‘Don’t be afraid of those who seem to be above you, and don’t look down on people who seem to be beneath you.’
But Yasmin was not a complete angel—she was more interesting than that! She could be prickly and defensive at times, and she didn’t suffer fools gladly. She often made fun of film academics that wanted to intimidate students with jargon rather than to watch films from their heart.
A line from Muallaf, her last film to be released in Malaysia, goes ‘I don’t know why people put so much trust in human beings.’ In the context of her life, this can mean that although she has sometimes been let down, hurt or criticised by people, she wanted to always remember that God is the final judge and refuge.
She said that the best advice she ever received was from her mother, Mak Inom, ‘Don’t be afraid of those who seem to be above you, and don’t look down on people who seem to be beneath you.’
Comments
Post a Comment