MADE over the course of two weeks in August of last year, before the Delta wave of Covid-19 pushed the number of cases to record highs and with the experience of the first MCO fresh in the minds of all Malaysians, ‘Frontliner’ was made with the best of intentions, of honouring those who risked their lives each day to limit the spread of the pandemic.
However, while the end result highlights the stresses some frontliners faced (and continue to face) – in this case, police and doctors – it does so in a very simplified manner, (i.e. frontliners good, everyone who complains bad). The government that sets the policies go unmentioned, and people’s economic frustrations are touched on but never really explored deeply enough.
‘Frontliner’ is not a documentary that recreates the gritty details of what happened during the last two years, but a celebration of those who volunteered to protect us – and suffered for it.
The movie is more interested in visualising all the phrases and slogans that have been drummed into us as a nation over the past year and a half. It means well, but it’s not anything we haven’t heard before.
There’s an early scene where the police round up some kids who were illegally meeting at a public park. The cops (one of whom is unmasked) lecture them on SOP and the kids whine and complain. All this does is show the youth as disrespectful, while the police are dutiful and put upon, which just reinforces narratives we’re already familiar with.
At 89 minutes, ‘Frontliner’ is split between three main characters and their immediate family members. Dr Azhan is a specialist at a Covid ward in a hospital, who is miserable and overworked. His wife Nora operates an NGO that helps people deal with mental health issues. She’s also pregnant.
Inspector Zul is a police officer who mainly mans a road checkpoint. He works long hours and when he returns home he has to sleep outside in a tent because of social distancing (?). His wife Nadia runs (or used to run) a school and is stressed because parents won’t pay their school fees. Their son Shamsul keeps complaining about how bored he is.
The third character is Captain Nasir, another police officer who works 24-hour shifts at either a roadblock or by enforcing an EMCO at a housing area. His mother complains that he’s not home enough and works too hard.
The stories are very loosely connected, with each character maybe appearing once in each other’s story, but usually just with a glance. This is not an extended family and they don’t talk to each other at all. At most, a character will make a speech and the movie will intercut between a number of people and places.
Maybe the stories would have been better served as a miniseries of stories that are each self-contained. As it is, the actual execution is quite jumbled together.
There are also some odd touches throughout ‘Frontliner’. While this is a Malay language movie, it starts off with English voice-over narration of newsreaders from other countries reading Covid headlines. Supposedly it helps establish the global context, but shouldn’t a Malaysian movie aimed at Malaysians use local headlines and narration?
Two of the main characters are policemen, which seems redundant. Wouldn’t it have been better served to have a different perspective, such as a nurse? And all three main characters are men who work hard at their jobs, but their wives/mothers are either nagging and/or are falling apart.
The depictions of police and doctors were too simplistic. Yes, we get a sense of their stress and misery, but we don’t get an in-depth understanding of what a medical professional does day-in and day-out. The police basically man a checkpoint and occasionally argue with drivers.
Ultimately, ‘Frontliner’ is occasionally successful in its aim as a sentimental melodrama that’s focused on the plight of some frontliners. However, as a dramatic retelling of the past year, it doesn’t really work. It depends too much on clichés and Malay drama tropes to tell an interesting and compelling story. – The Vibes, October 4, 2021
