Name: Photocopier
Genre: Drama, Mystery, Thriller
Released: 2021-10-08T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Shenina Cinnamon, Lutesha, Chicco Kurniawan, Jerome Kurnia, Dea Panendra

The opening scene of Photocopier (2021) is a flurry of grainy, hastily snapped photographs tumbling out of a photocopier—each one revealing fragments of a party that protagonist Sur (Shenina Cinnamon) can’t remember. Director Wregas Bhanuteja doesn’t waste time; this isn’t just a thriller about lost memories, but a slow-burning mystery where every image becomes a clue.

Bhanuteja’s film is a solid entry in the Indonesian cinema scene, blending familiar tropes with fresh inflections. The story follows Sur, a student whose life unravels when photos from a party she barely remembers surface, costing her a scholarship. What follows is an investigation into that night, where the photocopier itself becomes a metanarrative device—each copy revealing something new, distorting truths, and raising suspicions.

Where Photocopier excels is in its atmosphere. The film’s pacing is deliberate, allowing tension to build through quiet moments—the hum of the copier, the rustle of paper, the way characters’ faces flicker under fluorescent lights. Bhanuteja’s use of sound design is particularly effective; the mechanical whirring of the photocopier becomes a persistent, almost ominous presence, reinforcing the film’s central metaphor: copying as both revelation and distortion.

Shenina Cinnamon delivers a grounded performance as Sur, her confusion and determination palpable. The supporting cast, especially Lutesha as Farah (Sur’s friend) and Chicco Kurniawan as Amin (a potential suspect), add layers of complexity to the story without overplaying their hands. However, some performances falter under heavy-handed dialogue in key scenes, particularly Jerome Kurnia as Tariq, whose emotional outbursts feel more melodramatic than earned.

The film’s structure is its greatest strength and weakness. The nonlinear storytelling keeps viewers engaged, but some plot twists strain credibility, leaning too heavily on coincidence rather than organic development. A subplot involving Sur’s family—particularly her strained relationship with her mother (Ruth Marini)—adds emotional weight but feels underdeveloped in the film’s rush to resolve its central mystery.

Bhanuteja’s direction is confident, though not without missteps. The cinematography effectively uses shadows and tight framing to heighten tension, but a few scenes suffer from over-reliance on shaky cam during confrontations, which disrupts the otherwise measured tone. The film’s climax, while satisfying, relies too much on a twist that feels more contrived than earned.

Themes of memory, identity, and the fragility of truth are woven throughout Photocopier. Sur’s journey isn’t just about uncovering what happened at the party; it’s about confronting the gaps in her own recollection and the ways in which external forces—whether societal expectations or personal biases—shape her perception. The photocopier, as a symbol, is brilliantly deployed: it’s a tool of reproduction, but also one that can distort and degrade information with each copy.

Comparisons to films like The Girl on the Train (2016) are inevitable, given their shared focus on unreliable narrators and the dangers of lost time. However, Photocopier distinguishes itself through its cultural specificity. The film’s setting in Indonesia grounds it in a social context that feels authentic, from the casual dynamics between Sur and her friends to the broader societal pressures she faces as a student.

That said, Photocopier isn’t without its flaws. The pacing, while deliberate, occasionally drags in the film’s middle act, where the investigation stalls amidst repetitive interrogations and flashbacks. Some of the supporting characters, particularly Dea Panendra as Anggun and Giulio Parengkuan as Rama, feel underutilized, their potential sidelined by the film’s focus on Sur’s perspective.

The film also struggles with its tonal balance. Bhanuteja aims for a blend of psychological thriller and family drama, but the shifts between suspenseful set pieces and quieter, more introspective moments aren’t always seamless. The thriller elements often overshadow the deeper emotional beats, leaving the audience to piece together the emotional stakes rather than feel them viscerally.

Despite these shortcomings, Photocopier remains a compelling watch, particularly for fans of slow-burn mysteries that prioritize atmosphere over cheap thrills. It’s a film that demands patience and engagement from its viewers, rewarding those who stick with it by unraveling its layers gradually. The cinematography, sound design, and performances all contribute to an immersive experience, even if the narrative occasionally stumbles.

Ultimately, Photocopier is a film for those who appreciate the intricacies of storytelling over explosive set pieces.