In our regular column, Less Than (Five) Zero, we take a look at films that have received less than 50 logged watches on Letterboxd, aiming to discover hidden gems in independent and world cinema. This week Jeremy Elphick looks at the Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s least watched feature, The Adventure of Iron Pussy.
Date Watched: 25th June, 2015
Letterboxd Views (at the time of viewing): 45
The Adventure of Iron Pussy is a remarkably strange anomaly in Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s back catalogue. Rather than a surrealistic, slow-burner like the rest of the directors output, The Adventure of Iron Pussy is a fast-paced exploitation film that imitates the 16mm era of cheap and trashy films that were produced in the 1970s in Thailand. The film emerged in the period following the lauded Blissfully Yours, while Weerasethakul was looking at funding his next major follow-up: the phenomenal Tropical Malady. From the opening scene – a bar brawl in rural Thailand – alongside the cheesy opening credits, Iron Pussy is enamoured with B-grade aesthetics; with the film shot on a cheap digital format, rather than directors previous work in 35mm.
Understanding the emergence of such a film is difficult at first, as the stark contrast it draws with Weerasethakul’s other films never holds back. The director has a long history as an interdisciplinary artist in Thailand, with decades of short films, photography and installation to his name. The lead role in The Adventure of Iron Pussy is also helmed by one of Thailand’s more prominent contemporary artists – as well as co-written and directed by – Michael Shaowanasai. At the core, the film is a collaboration between the two figures. Shaowanasai designed the character of Iron Pussy – a transvestite spy that serves as the alter ego for a gay Thai man who works at 7/11 – in previous performance art works. In the end, their collaboration in The Adventure of Iron Pussy is a fascinating and consistently entertaining meditation on pop culture, cinema and sexuality in Thailand.
The actual plot of the film establishes Iron Pussy as a force to be reckoned with in the opening minutes, before checking out a few of the background characters in an exposition. It’s clear, in their introduction, that this is a film carried by the character of Iron Pussy – rather than a broader cast – from the start. Not long into the work, Iron Pussy is contacted by the Government while on shift at 7/11. Before long, the plot has escalated to the point where she is meeting the Prime Minister and is flung into trying to take out a mysterious Mr. Tang. By the end of the film, it’s become clear that Tang is Iron Pussy’s brother, and as the movie concludes, Weerasethakul is comfortable in knowing he’s expended a phenomenal amount of B-movie cliche and defining elements of exploitation cinema.
What really strengthens The Adventure of Iron Pussy as a work is the simple fact that it isn’t simply a dodgy B-grade piece, but it’s simultaneously a fully-fledged musical. Whilst Weerasethakul cheekily refers to soap opera conventions – with constant implausible twists, oddly timed moments of reflection, and a villain that constantly declares himself to be pure “evil” – the musical elements of the film really cement the proudly cliche-ridden work that Kick The Machine 1 released. It’s definitely one of the lower maintenance works in the directors career 2, but his typical attention to detail is still remarkably presence throughout the film, even if it’s expressed in a markedly different way.
It’s clear that a lot of the scenes in The Adventure of Iron Pussy are, like the majority of Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s work, deeply steeped in the Thai context from which they emerge. In this film, however, it creates a certain inaccessibility for audiences outside of the country as a result. The main difference between The Adventure of Iron Pussy and Weerasethakul’s later works (Syndromes and a Century, Uncle Boonmee…, Cemetery of Splendour) is that the former is obsessed with references to Thai popular culture, music, religious speckles and the country’s cinematic history. While there are parts in Weerasethakul’s later works that non-Thai audiences likely aren’t to pick up on, the way in which the director expresses them are more aesthetically-driven, and tinged with surrealistic filmic traits. That is, the major difference in The Adventure of Iron Pussy is that, as a comedy, a lot of its humour flies over the head of a viewer lacking familiarity with these aspects of Thai culture.
It’s hard to forget, while watching this, that the film is the product of the waiting period to receive funding after there was a temporary halt on Tropical Malady’s production. It’s clear that The Adventure of Iron Pussy emerged out of a period of already having a serious filmic trajectory in mind – temporarily on hold – with some spare time to put together a film that would, down the track, serve as a hilarious contrast to the much more serious, paced, and astounding Tropical Malady. Through and through, this isn’t an incredible movie, but it never stops being fun – and not just in the sense of what’s happening on screen, but also imagining the circumstances of two well-respected and established artists in Thailand throwing it together. It’s something that is impossible to imagine as anything other than a complete joy for the directors to have teamed up to make, and it genuinely flows throughout the film. There’s a certain sincerity amidst the biting satire rather than a B-grade film for the sake of a B-grade film, and it definitely makes a difference in the final product.