UDINE, Italy — “The Forbidden Door” would make Hitchcock and Almodovar proud. Its protagonist, a sculptor who is both inspired and haunted by female reproduction, becomes hooked on a warped reality show that unlocks childhood secrets behind the ‘forbidden door’ in his own home.

Joko Anwar accessorizes his creepy suspense-horror with a dazzling array of auteur-homage, Freudian psychobabble, swanky art direction and a mellow ’50s jazz score. So despite the Byzantine plot and child abuse scenes that border on exploitive, film buffs and genre fans will be irresistibly seduced by the style rather than the questionable substance.

Anwar is not the first to play with twin conceits of moviegoers-as-voyeurs and cinema-as-peepshow. But this, his third work, is arguably the most polished genre film of its kind in recent Indonesian cinema. The film is both a choice pick for festival midnight sidebars and a possibility for a remake for larger markets.

To all appearances, Gambir (Fachri Alba) is the envy of his peers: He is husband to foxy Talyda (Marsha Timothy), and a darling of the art world because of his sculptures of pregnant women. Yet from the soulful, neurotic glint in his eyes, one senses something is amiss. Could it be his sexual impotence, his controlling mother, his passive-aggressive wife who keeps their red room locked, or the fishy connection between the shapely protuberances of his artwork and his frequent visits to an abortion clinic?

Even more perturbing is his recent discovery of the words “help me” encrypted all around him. The clues eventually lead him to join a Masonic club, which allows members to channel-surf strangers’ private lives. What he sees not only torments his conscience, but makes audiences accomplices in sadistic voyeurism while challenging their moral baseline.

The screenplay has as many layers as mille-feuille, and is just as hard to digest. Yet even with twist upon twist that extends beyond end credits, the film’s many puzzles finally do click into place according to the perverse logic of its surreal universe.

It is a measure of Anwar’s craft that he can present a facade of objective third-person narrative even as he funnels reality through Gambir’s subconscious. The meticulously furnished mise-en-scenes, steeped in brooding reds and blacks, look like an interior designer’s tour de force.

Moreover, the shifting ambiance of Gambir’s boho-chic bungalow and the elegant, colonial club (complete with Hitchcockian spiral staircase) gives an air of showroom artificiality that mirrors the protagonist’s feverish imagination.

Cinephiles who love to spot film references will be ticking off a long check list with Lynch in first place, followed by Hitchcock, Cronenberg’s “Videodrome” and distends to include even “Sliver” and “Vacancy.” The baroque denouement is another surprise tonal deviation to the realm of splatter films.

– Maggie Lee, The Hollywood Reporter

Bumpy but never dull, the Indonesian psychodrama “Fiksi” spins an intriguing web around a lonely rich girl’s obsession with a handsome writer. Co-scripted by Joko Anwar (“Joni’s Promise”), young femme helmer Mouly Surya’s debut is briskly paced and has well-drawn characters but is less assured with suspense-thriller components. Released domestically on June 19, pic reps a worthwhile addition to fest sidebars and has DVD export potential.

Traumatized by the violent, long-ago death of her mother and ignored by her distant father, virginal 20-year-old Alisha (Ladya Cheryl) spends her days cooped up at home, playing the cello and dreaming of a normal life. Closest she gets to enjoyment is replacing the white-rabbit figurines stolen by Bari (Donny Alamsyah), a buff young pool-cleaner she’s been watching from her window. Enchanted by a catchy tune he whistles, the fragile girl runs away from home and rents the apartment next door to Bari and his long-term g.f., Renta (Kinaryosih).

Arriving as the ideal new neighbor, Alisha befriends the couple and is shown around the crowded tenement by Bari, a struggling writer who knows everyone’s secrets and is using them as the basis for a novel. Claiming the building’s top floor is haunted, Bari says he has most of his work written but is frustrated by waiting for the real-life stories to reach their conclusions.

Working the line between reality and “is it all a novel?” fantasy (the title translates as “fiction”), the screenplay ramps up its thriller elements by having the increasingly unsteady Alisha seduce Bari, then orchestrates a series of violent incidents that will supply the material his work-in-progress requires. Though sequencing of events is sometimes muddled, pic boasts atmosphere and momentum as Alisha’s fixation spells doom for residents, including a reclusive old lady and two guys suspected of incestuous gay relations.

Well-cast pic makes the most of Cheryl’s doll-like features and piercing gaze to create a creepy aura around the femme fatale. Alamsyah confidently gets to grips with the scribe whose sudden glut of inspiration takes on life-or-death proportions.

Visuals generated on HD and transferred to 35mm are OK, with the best work on display in sequences tracking around moldy corridors and empty rooms in the spooky top floor. Moody, ambient score by Zeke Khaseli is the standout feature of a competent tech package.

— Richard Kuipers, VARIETY

The salacious lives of gigolos get the ultra-camp treatment in “Quickie Express,” a gender-bending comedy that takes the word “screwball” literally. Despite Indonesia’s strict censorship standards, the film’s creators pushed the envelope with their portrayal of a raunchy world where sex is always on demand and plenty in supply, plus an orgy of gay innuendoes.

It was Indonesia’s number one local hit in 2007, achieving a festive quality like a Christmas pantomime for adults. An irresistible pick-up for gay festivals or those serving more light-hearted fare, overseas commercial prospects are hampered by off-beat theme and rapid colloquial dialog.

Director Dimas Djayaadiningrat benefited from Joko Anwar’s (“Joni’s Promise,” “Kala”) inventive script and production house Kalyana Shira’s cosmopolitan, boutique approach to filmmaking. Relocating its sexploitation pastiche to modern uptown Jakarta, the package is technically polished and genre-savvy, invigorated by a heady mix of ’70s jive and ’80s disco fever music, and whirlwind shoots around bustling outdoor locations and sets of “Boogie Nights” splendor.

The film opens with hard-luck hero Jojo (Tora Sudiro) in a compromising position — dangling from a Ferris wheel with a deranged thug yelling death threats. It then rewinds to explain how he got there. The hyperbolic plot transports characters from kinky exploits to castration by piranha — making Jaws seem as harmless as Nemo. It takes a love pentangle, countless car-and-street chases before returning to the cliff-hanging first scene, where more reversals await.

This keeps most viewers busy enough to overlook the humiliation of older women, blatant phallic fixation and segments that play like lazy time-fillers. Acting is fine. More puerile than virile, the leads are anything but Richard Gere lookalikes in Armani suits, but they relish camping up their greasy hairdos and wimpy physiques as a style statement for the film’s celebration of weird and unorthodox concepts of beauty and sexuality.

—Maggie Lee, The Hollywood Reporter