THE STORY – An environmental and Indigenous rights activist from the Karen group is killed after protesting the forced eviction of his village from a protected forest.
THE CAST – Awat Ratanapintha, Pakapol Srirongmuang, Waywiree Ittianunkul & Thanatwut Rodpai
THE TEAM – Phuttiphong Aroonpheng (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 118 Minutes
In the turbulent times unfolding today, we find ourselves at a crossroads, with multiple kinds of battles being waged. Many focus on the political battlefield, which is willing to strike at so many, but that conflict extends into another equally important arena. Environmental catastrophes have their roots in politics, yet they can stretch further than any label branded next to a government official’s title. Their effects are widespread and non-discriminatory, even though forces try to bend the consequences to afflict one group over another. It’s a dangerous game with sinister players, ones that can enact harm in obvious and subtle ways. It’s a theme “The Burning Giants” looks to explore, and it does so with compelling imagery and a muddled plot that unfortunately grows tedious very quickly.
The film’s story is based on true events about an environmental and Indigenous rights activist in Thailand from the ethnic minority group Karen who was murdered after the forced eviction from his home in the forest. This tale imagines a mysterious fog that lingers over the land, causing those who come in contact with it to receive horrific burns that look as if they’ve been set ablaze. While a group of forest rangers attempts to clear the area, the Yak (Awat Ratanapintha), a lone villager, is captured and quarantined. Lak (Pakapol Srirongmuang), one of the rangers, feels a little pity for the situation and relays the news to his girlfriend. She, in turn, informs her sister Aeva (Waywiree Ittianunkul), because the man taken into custody is her husband. Aeva and her daughter fled once the evacuations were in place, but she still feels the urge to return home and reunite with her husband. So begins a journey to reunite with her husband, a dangerous trek that will eventually reveal another layer of this story that demonstrates a clash that has been recurring for a long time.
Director Phuttiphong Aroonpheng creates an arresting portrait with his striking imagery that lingers on quiet shots of nature. The voluminous smoke seeping into the jungle has an ominous presence, heightened by the natural ambiance that underscores the encroaching menace. Contrasting this space with the city streets that cast harsh lines on the citizens creates engrossing aesthetics that the filmmaking highlights well. There’s a quality that is both beautiful and sinister to the landscape, much like the rangers themselves that try to act both benevolent and intimidating. They offer assistance to stranded villagers in need of food but are quick to violently assault any person who protests their own actions. Soon, the efforts to spray down surfaces with disinfectants and distribute masks feel more like actions of an oppressor. It also comes dangerously close to a metaphorical criticism of pandemic-era enforcement, but nothing explicit in the film makes that direct connection. The tension simmers but is mostly reserved, and Aroonpheng manifests an unsettling atmosphere that methodically unnerves the senses.
However, that anxiety dissipates as soon as the monotone pacing sets in. It’s earned more when establishing the stakes of this narrative, but the fate of the man taken into custody is revealed fairly quickly, robbing the story of suspense that could have built up. The characters don’t have much depth either, and at one point the main group is abandoned for a completely different thread that imagines an ancient war between gods and ogres being played out in a theater. This junction is intriguing, as it is meant to draw a connection between old myths about fantastical beings and similar issues that plague the modern day. But it’s such an abrupt shift with little set-up that the jarring change never completely settles in. The demystification becomes a provocative statement, but the presentation is so rigid that it’s hard to fully connect with such an audacious swing.
The performances appropriately match the restrained tone of the piece, though Ratanapintha has an impactful moment as he offers a passionate plea to be released from his confines. It’s a sequence that truly underscores the emotional toll that is being wrought upon these citizens, and it’s an effective demonstration for such a small part. Ittianunkul has a similar task in her emotional journey, though her portrayal doesn’t leave quite the same impression as his. Still, she inhabits a mournful determination to reunite with her husband, which is effectively showcased in her screen presence. Srirongmuang starts off as a more exciting figure as a man caught between conflicting loyalties, but his purpose is disposable when the second act begins, and his storyline is completely dropped. Even though the last act grows exhausting, Thanatwut Rodpai provides a captivating turn as an ogre who escapes the mythical war only to find himself destitute within the modern age. He’s another person who brings a quiet intensity, and the transformation shown to grab a slice of comfort through humiliating torture is an engrossing performance just when the film is in desperate need of some vitality.
There’s much that can be respected when it comes to the commentary at play within “The Burning Giants.” Its meditation on the evils that descend upon vulnerable populations at the hands of nefarious political forces is an alluring concept. However, the execution is simply not consistently engaging. Despite some impressive filmmaking and performances, the storytelling meanders and stalls, fails to give us characters worth following, and soon gives up on them altogether in favor of a new chapter that hasn’t been given the proper foundation. The central message may be vital, but the delivery doesn’t match that urgency.
