海角大神

Indonesians love scary movies. But our reporter learns it鈥檚 about folklore, not fright.

Late at night, after an exhausting hike up Indonesia鈥檚 Mount Gede, Maya wakes to find her friend Itha missing from their tent. Several minutes of frantic searching later, she finds her crouched, alone, in a patch of tall grass 鈥� giggling.

鈥淚鈥檓 talking to my friend,鈥� Itha explains. Except no one else is there.

My whole body jolts as that 鈥渇riend鈥� suddenly erupts onto the screen. It鈥檚 the most terrified I鈥檝e ever been in a movie theater 鈥� the kind of scared that has you peeking through your fingers and spilling popcorn on your neighbor. In my case, that鈥檚 longtime Indonesian film critic Ekky Imanjaya, who looks completely unfazed.

He鈥檚 seen hundreds of movies like 鈥淗aunting of Mount Gede.鈥� Horror is by far the most popular genre of Indonesian cinema, accounting for 60% of the 258 movies made in the country last year, according to the Indonesian Film Board.

But these aren鈥檛 like many of the scary movies shown in theaters across the United States, in which fright itself is the point. Indonesia鈥檚 horror boom is built upon the archipelago鈥檚 rich folklore, passed down from generation to generation, and an enduring belief in the supernatural.

All countries have their own sort of ghost story, says Dr. Imanjaya, a film studies lecturer at Bina Nusantara University in Jakarta, but 鈥渕any Indonesian people believe that it鈥檚 true.鈥� Indonesians鈥� fascination with their country鈥檚 unique blend of Islam and folklore has helped the local film industry thrive, while those in other developing nations struggle to compete with American blockbusters.

鈥淲e are very close to this folklore, this urban legend,鈥� explains Dr. Imanjaya. People 鈥渓ike to be frightened with something familiar.鈥�

Scared 鈥� and reassured 鈥� by the supernatural

References to the supernatural appear everywhere in Indonesia, the world鈥檚 largest Muslim nation. The city of Pontianak takes its name from a vengeful female spirit that the city鈥檚 founding sultan is said to have expelled in the late 1700s. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, a village in Java used patrollers dressed as ghosts to deter people from leaving their houses. And in a Jakarta museum dedicated to traditional Indonesian puppetry, a small wooden figure with a sheer, scarlet headscarf depicts the 鈥淪weet Maiden of Ancol Bridge鈥� 鈥� a woman who, according to legend, still haunts the bridge in northern Jakarta where she died.

Wayang Museum librarian Dwi Nur Ratnasari says this connection with the supernatural predates the arrival of organized religion in the first century.

鈥淏efore religion came to Indonesia, we believed in animism and dynamism,鈥� she says. Back then, it would be common for Indonesians to pray to the spirits of a tree or stone. These beliefs blended with Hinduism and Buddhism, and when Islam began to spread through the archipelago in the 1200s, the culture evolved further.

Today, more than 87% of Indonesians identify as Muslim. Only 0.04% put themselves in the 鈥渇olk/other鈥� category. Yet a widespread reverence for local ghosts and other folklore persists.

鈥淲e still believe in ghosts,鈥� says Ms. Ratnasari. 鈥淲e acknowledge their existence amongst us; they are there as part of our universe. But we cannot worship them.鈥�

Today, these spirits, known as danyang, are treated like neighbors that 鈥渨e need to respect,鈥� says Dr. Imanjaya. Offending them, many Indonesians believe, can invite tragedy, chaos 鈥� or a good movie plot.

Indonesian horror films improve

鈥淗aunting of Mount Gede鈥� has all the fixings of a modern Indonesian fright night: a host of angry danyang, an evil jinni (Islamic phantom), and a plot inspired by real-life events.

What audiences won鈥檛 find are common Western horror tropes, such as when Hollywood protagonists hear a strange noise and 鈥済et curious,鈥� says Dr. Imanjaya, pantomiming a character sheepishly peering around a corner to investigate a disturbance.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 do that,鈥� he laughs, waving his hand. 鈥淚f I got scared, I鈥檇 pray with something from the Holy Quran.鈥�

That鈥檚 how the protagonists in most Indonesian films react, too. They turn to Islam as a source of comfort and protection, and rarely waste time debating whether ghosts exist. When Itha returns from Mount Gede possessed by a mysterious spirit, her family immediately calls an ustad, or Islamic scholar, to try to heal her.

It鈥檚 these kinds of details that draw millions of Indonesians to theaters every year. Many international horror fans enjoy them as well. As streaming platforms carry Indonesian films to new audiences, foreign investment from Netflix, HBO, and other media giants has raised production values 鈥� something moviegoer Rifki Yusuf appreciates.

鈥淚ndonesian horror movies are gradually becoming a lot better,鈥� he says, leaving the theater after watching 鈥淗aunting on Mount Gede.鈥�

Mr. Yusuf, who came to the movies after his morning shift at a food manufacturing plant, says he didn鈥檛 find the film very scary. But he loved the cinematography and enjoyed the chance to reminisce about his own hikes up Mount Gede. He has been to the mountain five times, and for him, the creatures depicted in the film are more than just theater. 鈥淚 know they are there,鈥� he says.

Ismira Lutfia Tisnadibrata supported reporting for this story.