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

Joko Anwar’s Kala, just out in Malaysian cinemas, has been deceptively labelled as a noir thriller, and it certainly had me thinking it was a hard-boiled detective story. But what a complete surprise the first half-hour or so turns out to be.

Kala isn’t just a noir crime thriller. It has elements of horror, fantasy and political intrigue. It’s a nice mix, with gorgeous visuals and a creepy and disturbing atmosphere, but it also has a huge problem towards the end.

I loved Janji Joni, Joko’s 2005 loving ode to cinema, a colourful story about a guy who delivers film reels to cinemas who finds his daily routine becoming a desperate race against time and a quest for love. It’s one of the most original films I’ve seen, and certainly one of the best films to come out of Indonesia. You could see how much Joko is influenced by Hollywood cinema, from the Fight Club-like opening minutes to the old-time romance at the heart of the film.

But don’t expect the same feel-good-ness in Kala. This is one very dark, very ominous and graphically violent film. The first two-thirds of it is almost like Dark City as envisioned by Kiyoshi Kurosawa.

The story takes place in an unnamed republic where political tension is at an all-time high, where mobs are going wild with rampage and indiscriminate killings. It’s never made clear what the problems in the country are, but Joko clearly paints a portrait of a society quickly degenerating into civil unrest, apathy, corruption and blind rage, a society on the brink of swallowing itself whole. Eros, the archetypal hardened noir detective, or who seems to be one at first, is investigating an incident where five men were burnt to death by a mob while witnesses stood by watching. One of the dead guys has a spider pendant around his neck. In comes Janus, a reporter who pursues the same case. Janus has just been through a divorce because he’s narcoleptic and can’t satisfy his wife (he falls asleep every time they’re about to get it on).

Janus tries to interview the wife of one of the five victims, but something tragic happens before he can do so. Later he discovers the name of a mysterious location, uttered by the woman earlier when she had visited the morgue, and captured on a tape-recorder he had hidden in the morgue. One of his friends listens to the tape and later meets with a grisly end after being haunted by the unsettling apparition of a pale man. And as Eros delves further into the mystery, he too begins to see the apparition. Meanwhile, Janus discovers that a lot of people are after the name of that mysterious place, and gets kidnapped by gangsters one night.

Joko plays with noir conventions, but sometimes he turns some of them on their heads, such as the hard-boiled detective who turns out to be not so typical nor so straight. The world the director creates feels extremely real, full of dilapidated buildings and decrepit apartments, and smoky underground jazz bars and rain-soaked streets. The disturbing atmosphere, draped mostly in dusky light, is very, very unsettling, and Joko punctuates the moments with equally dreary music. This looks like a ghost world, where people move through the shadows like lost spirits, and the air has the mossy taste of a tomb. Joko takes the shadowy noir setting and builds it into the perfect backdrop for horror.

From the very first frame, you’d know that you’re watching a very unusual, offbeat thriller. The story keeps you guessing at every turn. Clues are dropped, characters are introduced who add to the web of intrigue, and there’s constantly the feeling that there’s a huge surprise waiting just around the corner. The supernatural and the noir sit so well together in Joko’s hands that it seems like a forgone conclusion that they’re natural partners in crime.

But as the mystery gradually unravels, so does the story, losing itself to some degree of video-game incongruity.in its suddenly hip ending. The wonderfully realised atmosphere gives way to a stylised, hipped-up idea of archipelago myth and mysticism, with a touch of sword and sorcery. Suddenly, from Raymond Chandler-meets-Clarke Ashton-Smith in an Alex Proyas city, we’re right smack in Resident Evil territory. It’s a very bizarre direction to take, and one that makes the ending seem like it’s from another film.

But there’s no denying Joko’s visual artistry here, and his ability to build a palpable, otherworldly mood and atmosphere. Despite the strange turn of events at the end, Kala is still quite a film, and definitely something very different. I don’t believe I’ve seen anything from Indonesia quite like it. It’s worth checking out for its seamless mix of noir, horror and a good old detective yarn.

—Twitch

A love of cinema and the cinema of love converge in “Joni’s Promise,” a fresh, energetic romantic comedy from Indonesia. Directorial bow by film critic Joko Anwar is frenetically paced but exhibits a strong sense of comic timing. Film scored solid B.O. on local release in April, and its best fit will be in other Asian territories, with Malaysia the next skedded destination.

Eponymous hero and occasional narrator Joni (boyish Nicholas Saputra, who somewhat resembles Heath Ledger) is employed as a reel courier for a Jakarta cinema chain. Producers and exhibitors maximize their investment by sharing film reels between theaters and staggering screening times. Standard practice, this m.o. allows one print to service two cinemas almost simultaneously.

Couriers, such as Joni, are employed to ensure that reels arrive on time without disruption to the screenings. While waiting for his next pick-up, Joni encounters the sultry, but at this stage anonymous, Angelique (Mariana Renata), who’s waiting to see a film with her brawny film-buff b.f., Otto (Surya Supatra).

Tiring of her beau’s boorish behavior, Angelique is charmed by Joni and promises to reveal her name if he successfully delivers the reels on time. It should be just another day’s work for Joni, but just as the ante is increased, so are the obstacles he must overcome.

In addition to the usual gridlocked Jakarta traffic, Joni’s errand is detoured by bike thieves, a film shoot, a pregnancy, and even a rock band’s audition. Each complication requires substantial suspension of disbelief, but humor carries the day. Narrative digressions set at Joni’s home-base cinema also provide amusement and remind auds of the romantic prize that awaits the hero if he succeeds.

The smart premise is well handled by writer-helmer Anwar. Occasionally, his low budget lets him down, but the uncluttered helming and scripting never do. On screen 90% of the time, Saputra never ceases to appeal as the harried hero. Other perfs are less polished, but since the pic never takes itself too seriously this does no harm.

Lensing is high quality despite obvious budget constraints and the occasional illegality of the shoot. Other tech credits also make the grade. Energetic pop soundtrack maintains the same pleasing vibrancy as the camera movements and cutting.

—Russell Edwards, Variety