In Saeed Taji Farouky’s impressionistic documentary, the act of manual labour gains a sensorial, almost celestial dimension. The film’s opening sequences are near-wordless, as the camera gazes on the Burmese village of Dahat Pin. Here, the muddy, golden-hued landscape is dotted with countless derricks, simple bamboo structures. A cacophony of cranking levers, roaring generators, and sputtering smoke plumes harmonises into a dynamic soundscape, bringing to life the operations of these hand-operated, independent oil extractors. Unique to Myanmar, these oil-fields are unregulated by the government and often face intimidation from the army.
Among those living this way are Htwe Tin and Thein Shwe, a married middle-aged couple whose daily travails constitute the film’s beating heart. A former farmer, Thein Shwe now toils over two oil wells he has dug himself, to the detriment of his own health. Meanwhile, his young son Zin Ko Aung has little interest in such back-breaking work. Thanks to his athletic gifts (as well as to sacrifices from his parents), he is able to join a regional football club in another city, with the hope of going pro. When juxtaposed with Zin Ko Aung’s new calling, the couple’s way of life feels painfully obsolete, as if they have been forsaken by the times.
Enveloped in Fatima Dunn’s hypnotic score, mesmerising images of billowing reeds and swirling puddles of oil mixture turn the earth into a living and breathing entity. More than a resource to be exploited, the landscape is imbued with a certain spirituality through Farouky’s striking cinematography. Moving between realism and the abstract with exquisite ease, the film patiently observes how the cycle of life, full of both hope and melancholy, can be just as slippery as black gold itself.