Crocodile Tears, Tampul Tampubolon’s feature debut, is a chilling tale of one odd family living in a crocodile park, where fantasy and reality blur in exciting ways.
Director: Tumpal Tampubolon
Genre: Psychological Drama, Psychological Thriller
Run Time: 98′
BFI London Film Festival Screening: October 13-15, 2024
U.S. Release Date: TBA
U.K. Release Date: TBA
The crocodile park where twenty-something Johan (Yusuf Mahardika, Autobiography) lives with his controlling mother, only referred to as Mama (Marissa Anita, Solo, Solitude), is a suffocating, eerie place. The humid weather, gruelling work, and sweaty faces all contribute to the prison-like atmosphere that hangs over the remote tourist attraction. In Crocodile Tears, Johan is freely permitted to leave the park, but his lack of social life and strict watchfulness of Mama makes him as imprisoned as the crocodiles themselves.
After he meets and falls in love with a woman called Arumi (Zulfa Maharani, Romeo Ingkar Janji), the tension between the trio ratchets up even more. In his feature film directorial debut, Tampul Tampubolon delicately and wickedly peels back the layers of this twisted family drama with weird and sinister results.
Tampubolon and DOP Teck Siang Lim (Pei yue) find dread at every corner in the world of Crocodile Tears, lingering on the watchful, shining eyes of the crocs at night or putting Mama as a lurking presence in the background of scenes. Johan and Mama’s relationship is uncomfortable, to say the least, with the two sharing a bed and spooning every night; even more disturbing is the reign of abuse, both physical and psychological, that Mama inflicts on her son. Anita is terrifying as this matriarchal dictator, whilst Mahardika is impressively withdrawn and openly anxious after living like this for so long.
The initial stages of Crocodile Tears are slow but extremely tense. Tampubolon gives us little snippets of the world without ever diluting the intrigue, such as references to one white crocodile that lives on its own in a small enclosure. After Johan meets Arumi, we find out via her friends that the crocodile park is rumoured to be haunted, and that the mother reportedly fed the deceased father to the crocodiles. To add to this, Mama believes the father is now embodied within the white crocodile.
From here, Crocodile Tears becomes a fascinating, intoxicating blend of genres and styles, using facets of horror, black comedy, romance, family drama, fantasy, and surrealism. One minute you’ll be watching a heartwarming romantic scene, the next you’ll be privy to some frightful night time horror. It is weird and dazzling; some of the most memorable moments of Crocodile Tears are when Tampubolon goes off on odd tangents, such as a (possible) dream sequence in which Mama, blood around her mouth, charges at Johan on all-fours. The director/writer often values these elements of intense shock values less than the slow-burn dread that envelops the film, which in fact enhances how sinister Crocodile Tears ends up feeling.
As Arumi and Johan’s relationship brings about pregnancy and Arumi starts to live on the crocodile farm, the tension starts to expand into something more volatile. But for all its intrigue, Crocodile Tears feels overstretched, with its promising premise not quite elevated to the highest level by Tampubolon. The conclusion isn’t quite as cathartic as you’d expect, but it does feel suitably whacky and vague. Crocodile Tears doesn’t fizzle out, but it never quite ignites totally either. Nevertheless, Tampubolon’s ability to blend genres seamlessly is brilliant to witness, and hints at a bright, brave, and unpredictable directorial future.
Crocodile Tears will be screened at the BFI London Film Festival on October 13-15, 2024. Read our list of 30 movies to watch at the 2024 BFI London Film Festival!
