A mundane activity sets the mysterious tone of the film. MUBI says, “Ashes is something strange and special: part sideshow, part movie, part diary—all cinema.” The film is essentially a reconstruction of images, resulting in something quite extraordinary. The film opens with someone, we do not know who this someone is at this point, walking a dog in the middle of a field. For an extended period, we follow and watch this person walking his dog in a rural field. Nothing else happens. It is only when the camera was accidentally flipped that we could presume the director’s friend was walking the dog since the camera revealed Apichatpong's face as he readjusts the camera. Clearly, Ashes is no ordinary film. It is a study of memories and unreliable narrations.

The use of colours in the film is distinct yet subtle. It utilises the natural tones of film properties to convey atmospheric cues. The warm, yellowish tint paints the nostalgic undertone of the film, bringing the audience into the dreamlike landscape that belongs to the cameraperson. It feels like a reality playing in front of us. The pair came across some pigs trapped in cages on their walk. Immediately after seeing this, the colour tone changes. A striking red infiltrated the screen, tampering the atmosphere of a wholesome afternoon of strolling. Here, colour serves as an indicator of mood changes. Incidentally, the change of visual representation also suggests the instability of sight and memory. What we see and what is seen may not always be representative of the full authentic picture.

The film further destabilises the concept of perception and memory by splitting the screen into two halves. In flashes, the two halves show different images and clips of people exploring the Thai jungle. Walking, having a picnic, picnic food, close-ups of faces you do not recognise. Before this, we were shown a short sequence of people protesting on the Thai streets. Words on protest signs were not translated so any non-Thai speakers (such as myself) are not able to understand what was at stake. Only later do we find out that they are political activists, specifically opposers of Thailand’s Article 112 (Lese Majeste Law) as credited at the end of the film.

More flashes of people’s faces, tattoos, painting toenails and leaves form an intimate picture… you cannot quite decipher what the sequence of images mean yet and then the film immediately cuts back to the dog walking scene. Are we looking at the representation of memories or are we looking at photographic objects? The fragmentation of imagery suggests the unstable nature of memories. Unstable as a factual reality, yet, the sequence leaves a significant mark on a person’s inner landscape, highlighting the emotional agency one has within.

The beauty of this film is that the above sequences do not present an obvious narrative, challenging a traditional cinematic discourse. Ultimately, it asks the very question every filmmaker asks themselves at some point in their career, “What is a film?” Moments in nature are filmed with a unique hand-cranked film camera, the LomoKino, whereas the cityscape is filmed with a modern camera. The distinctions made through aspect ratio and colours reveal a deeper level of how relatability is created through visual storytelling. The striking contrast created by going between the two settings imitates the phenomenon of associative thinking. How images are sequenced affects the meaning the audience interprets. Even when the camera captures unassuming moments in the everyday, the resulting montage combination creates a space for the audience to reflect and relate. Cinema is like a déjà vu. One finds sanctuary in its familiar imagery.

“I realised it was a dream. It’s a dream within a dream.”

We hear Apichatpong’s voice, mixed with Khon Kaen’s soundscape on a blank screen. The director’s voice signifies an awakening. It is now clear that the audience is positioned through a reflective lens. We are looking at the director’s reflection on a past landscape of Thailand. Ashes presents itself as a tragic love story between Apichatpong and the Thailand he knows. For me, this very set of images is also a documentation of changes in cinematic history in the face of capitalistic culture. There is no right answer to what constitutes cinema, but at the heart of the two types of cinema is a language that evokes reactions personal to the viewer.

Ashes is a silent narrative that pays homage to the roots of cinema. It is a statement, a memory of what cinema could still be. Fireworks bloom in the city which Apichatpong painted. The film is now in 16:9 ratio. A mix of reds and blues in the sky, symbolising a passion- a hope mixed in melancholic haze.