Unveiling 'Cigarette Girl': A Pioneering Indonesian Drama that Resonates Beyond Time

“Putrimu menurun dari ibunya. Tahu apa yang aku suka. Mawar.”

This line, single-handedly made me binge the five episode series under the span of one day. With its alluring soundtrack, beautiful cinematography, and compelling characters, “Cigarette Girl” is truly an Indonesian period drama like no other. Directed by Kamila Andini and Ifa Isfansyah the series not only explores the societal challenges of gender norms for women during the 1960s, but also conveys the oppressed controversy of the G-30S/PKI movement that occurred. Through the use of symbolism, storyline, characters, ambience, and dialogue, “Cigarette Girl” had single-handedly set a new standard for Indonesian dramas to suppress as it creates its own lore, inviting its audience to truly be immersed into the time period and its characters. Now a fair warning, I am not going to go too in-depth with this review, since I strongly recommend you guys to watch this series and form your own thoughts on it.

We start this series with the recurring question, what is the definition of a cigarette in “Cigarette Girl”? A cigarette is the physical manifestation of Dasiyah’s societal struggles and desires as a woman, a love letter of Soeraja’s emotions, a pandora box of Arum and Lebas’s family secrets; a cigarette tethers these characters together. This can further be seen in the director’s unique editorial choices, where they choose to employ the use of cigarettes as a tool to assist transition scenes between the two different storylines (Arum and Lebas, Dasiyah and Soeraja). I felt that this was truly effective as it allows fluidity and spontaneity by swiftly changing the character’s point of view. It keeps the audience at the edge of our seats as we constantly are left with cliffhangers filled with unexpected twists and turns.

Furthermore, this series did an amazing job in creating substance and a prominent persona for all of their characters. At first, I thought that they had too many characters on their plate which would lead to my disinterest in the other characters – I was wrong. The single fact that I managed to recall all the characters’ names and maintain my interest in each of the character’s personal goals and interests made the series richer in story. Almost all of the characters undergo prominent changes throughout the series, none of them remained static. They each had their own desires and their own methods to reach their end goal. I find it truly remarkable that the directors and actors managed to execute the characters’ connections perfectly. Undoubtedly, this is the work of the series’ talented script writers.

Other than their set design and cinematography perfectly capturing Indonesia’s beauty and essence, as an Indonesian myself I was impressed and captivated by their choice of soundtrack. Nadin Amirzah, Nona Ria, Reality Club, Juwita. All these artists were incorporated into the scenes and created a sense of emotional resonance. Moreover, the songs from these artists evoked the strong emotions that each scene possessed and they would serve as a great starter pack for music-lovers to discover talented Indonesian artists and singers.

With the help of these great musicians the movie reminded me of my childhood where I used to run into a field of warm yellow and green “padi” (rice field). The smell of “tempe goreng”, “sambal oelek”, “teh tawar”, and morning dew on long, dancing, bladed grass. The vacant living rooms in my old house that were usually spacious and welcoming, always felt snug, cradling us all in a cocoon of camaraderie and patriotism on the 17th of August. To me, this movie felt like home.

Regardless, this series has also done a remarkable job in courageously addressing the exclusion of certain historical events within Indonesia, such as the G30S/PKI. In the case of Indonesia, our country’s curriculum is often influenced by political, social, and cultural factors, which has led to the handling of this part of our history as very complex and varied. Due to the controversial and brutal events that happened during this historical event, the exclusion of the G30S/PKI has been influenced to remain as a taboo to avoid potential social or political tensions given its everlasting impact on our society.

Despite this, the approach to history education in Indonesia has undergone changes over time. Hence, period dramas like "Cigarette Girl" play a pivotal role in portraying an accurate historical representation of the societal and political struggles that culminated in widespread violence and apprehension among Indonesians. These productions serve as a platform for the younger generation to comprehend and interpret this pivotal chapter of Indonesian history.

They particularly centralize the trauma experienced by the elderly during the G30S/PKI era, a sentiment starkly depicted in a scene where Purwanti adamantly urges Lubus to "leave the past out of her house." This dialogue exemplifies the contrast between the elderly's reticence and the younger generation's curiosity and insistence on uncovering the truth.

The mysterious disappearances of loved ones during that time inflicted years of trauma and anxiety, underscoring the necessity of addressing such unresolved issues. Acknowledging these traumas and mental scars becomes pivotal for our society to lead lives devoid of secrecy. Understanding that acknowledging trauma is crucial, would foster an environment where healing and transparency can prevail.

In its entirety, this movie resonated with me deeply, striking a chord within my heart. I am not typically moved to tears by films, yet this series stirred emotions in me, particularly in a scene where Purwanti and Rukayah reunited and bonded over ginger candy after years of separation. These silent moments, expressed solely through the actors' gestures and facial expressions, struck me profoundly. It was in this scene that I felt the most poignant impact—a scene devoid of spoken words, yet resonating with the enduring essence of their friendship. It allowed for a profound exploration of emotions, fostering an atmosphere that enriched the storytelling, inviting us as the audience to deeply experience and reminisce alongside the characters.

One last slight spoiler. The choice of the character's name, Arum Cengkeh, was remarkably clever and intimate as it highlights her mother’s favorite scent that was heavily shamed upon for girls during her time given her talents and passion as a “sauce-maker” for tobacco products; yet Jeng Yah proudly names her daughter –her most prized and loved possession– as Arum Cengkeh which translates to the Scent of Clove in English, a prominent product associated with the creation of “Kretek” cigarettes (clove-flavored cigarettes). It is these subtle, indirect details that truly makes this series stand out from the others, emphasizing the brilliance of Cigarette Girl's (Dasiyah/Jeng Yah) unwavering strength, independence, and resilience.