REVIEW: Cinema Release: Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives

Film: Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives
Release date: 19th November 2010
Certificate: 12A
Running time: 113 mins
Director: Apichatpong Weerasethakul
Starring: Thanapat Saisaymar, Jenjira Pongpas, Sakda Kaewbuadee, Natthakarn Aphaiwonk, Geerasak Kulhong
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy
Studio: New Wave
Format: Cinema
Country: Thailand/UK/France/Germany/Spain

In 1983, Phra Sripariyattiweti, the abbot of a Buddhist monastery in Thailand, published a book telling the story of a man called Boonmee who had told him he could clearly remember his own past lives while meditating, “playing behind his closed eyes like a movie.” By the time Thai director Apichatpong Weerasethakul had heard the story, Boonmee had died, so rather than attempt a straightforward biopic, he decided to use the idea and structure to make a far more personal film, reminiscent of the Thai horror films of his youth. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives was released in early 2010 to critical acclaim, winning the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, and boosting the profile of its director to worldwide recognition.

Set in a remote village in Thailand, the film tells the story of an elderly man called Boonmee who lives with his wife, son, and carer – an illegal immigrant from over the border in Laos. Boonmee is suffering from acute kidney failure, and is struggling through the last days of his life.

As he comes closer to death, Boonmee is approached by visions of ghosts from his life, including his long dead first wife, and his missing son who returns in the form of a half-monkey with glowing red eyes. Through these spirits he experiences visions of his past and future lives, and ponders on possible reasons for his illness…


From the outset it is clear we are in for something very different from Weerasethakul. Shots linger eternally on the banal, asking us to examine and re-examine the seemingly mundane of everyday life until, before our eyes, it actually becomes interesting. He purposefully does not focus on the action, does not edit for convenience, and allows his camera to drift around and away from (and then back to) the focus of the story. Whoever said that drama is life with the boring bits taken out forgot to tell Weerasethakul.

Like many other examples of Asian cinema (notably the Studio Gibli animations), in Uncle Boonmee, we are asked to accept along with the characters the existence of ghosts and spirits as a completely normal, conventional part of everyday life - and death. It is with little more than mild alarm that the characters react when Boonmee’s long dead ex-wife materialises at the dinner table, followed by his missing son who has transformed into a bi-pedal, red-eyed monkey. It’s a peculiar concept to adjust to, one which would maybe benefit from repeat viewings, but undoubtedly this technique helps immerse us in the director’s world, far more than an Alice Through The Looking Glass conceit ever would.

The film frequently drifts from scene to often unrelated scene with no real purpose or flow, yet somehow these changes of tone are never jarring, instead allowing Uncle Boonmee to play out like a long, lazy dream. A significant example is where, for apparently no reason in the middle of the film, the story changes unannounced to the short story of a disfigured princess who has a conversation – and much, much more – with a talking catfish. Unexplained, the film then returns to the story of Boonmee, exactly where we left off. It feels like rather than being told a story, we are taking a trip through the director’s mind, and that he has put his thoughts directly on screen exactly as it came to him.

Even with repeat viewings, huge chunks of Uncle Boonmee are forever going to remain unexplained, other than perhaps only in the director’s mind. It is this wanton disregard for traditional narrative and stubborn refusal to explain itself that will be the greatest barrier to most audiences. This is not something however that concerns Weerasethakul. On the contrary, he welcomes the thought of his film’s potential unpopularity, saying: “I always say a film should have a personality. And like a person, if he or she is very popular, I would feel very suspicious.” In a world of audience-pleasing self-promoters, it is a refreshing attitude.

It seems that while narrative is nothing to Weerasethakul, tone is everything, and through some truly striking imagery, he captures a beautiful otherworldly quality to Thailand that we haven’t encountered before. The mountains and forests hang with a dark, ominous foreboding that make the line between life and death, and between the real and the spirit world thinly defined. Indeed, this creepy, darkly lit ambience makes Uncle Boonmee play out at times like a horror film, and the image of many sets of glowing red eyes staring out from a silhouetted forest will keep many awake at night.

The acting is largely subdued and wooden, but this cannot really be blamed on the actors, as Weerasethakul has commented that this was an intentional homage to an acting style of the past - from low-budget Thai horror films - where actors were whispered their lines from off camera and would then woodenly repeat them aloud. It’s another indication that he is really not interested in the conventional techniques of storytelling, but rather has his own very particular ideas about what does and does not make a good film.


A bold, dream-like piece; confusing, befuddling, but often stunningly beautiful. It definitely won’t be for everyone, many will find it confusing and impenetrable, but Uncle Boonmee could well mark an eye-opening new direction for film, with Weerasethakul’s direction treading a unique new path for other filmmakers to follow. LOZ

A special thanks to the Watershed in Bristol who allowed us to attend a screening of this film. Please check out their website here.