Can't find what you're looking for?
View all search results
“There’s no way this project is greenlit. This film is very niche!” says Kristo Imanuel, recalling his reaction to getting studio approval.
We were in one of Blok M Plaza’s Cinema XXI holding rooms in late July, right after Jakarta’s first early screening of Tinggal Meninggal (Better Off Dead), his directorial debut, which he co-wrote with his wife, Jessica Tjiu.
The film he did not think would get made, much less get picked up by award-winning production house Imajinari, had just finished playing to a full house.
At its core, Tinggal Meninggal is a dark comedy about death, loneliness and the absurdity of seeking connection in the most desperate ways.
It follows Gema, a creative agency employee who can never quite click with his coworkers. When his estranged father dies, his colleagues suddenly begin treating him with warmth and sympathy. And for the first time, Gema feels seen.
But the attention doesn’t last. When the grief fades, so does the comfort. That’s when he begins to wonder: Who else has to die for people to keep caring about him?
In a spiral of lies, he starts making up deaths: a rescued cat, long-dead grandparents, anyone who might buy him another moment of kindness.
It’s a bitter pill of a premise, but Kristo says it feels fresh because we rarely see tragedy in Indonesian films handled with humor, especially not the self-deprecating type like this.
And judging by the reaction in the cinema that day, the gamble paid off.
Breaking the fourth wall
If Kristo was not fully confident at the start, producer Ernest Prakasa, who just won his first Citra Award as a producer, and topped 2024’s box office with Agak Laen, was. Beyond the premise, he saw something deeper in Kristo’s vision.
The film is ultimately about chronic loneliness, a kind of ache that a lot of people, especially younger urban audiences, might recognize. And to tell that story, Kristo didn’t just rely on plot or dialogue. He used the camera itself.
One of the boldest storytelling choices in Tinggal Meninggal is Gema’s constant breaking of the fourth wall. He talks to us, the audience, directly, not just to narrate, but to cope.
Kristo references Deadpool, House of Cards and Fleabag as inspirations. The last one, especially in its second season, uses the technique not just as a gimmick, but as a mirror: the main character talks to us because she can’t talk to anyone else.
Tinggal Meninggal follows a similar logic. Gema talks to us when he’s unable to connect with those around him. That choice makes us part of his inner world, builds empathy and shows us just how isolated he is.
But Kristo doesn’t stop there. In Gema’s private space, he also speaks to a younger version of himself through a childhood portrait, adding another layer to the film’s emotional architecture.
Is Gema just an extreme introvert? Maybe.
But introverts usually find peace in solitude. Gema doesn’t. He yearns to belong. And when he doesn’t, he turns to us, to his past self, to anywhere he might feel seen.
The technique, then, lines up perfectly with Kristo’s cinematic vision of capturing the feeling of chronic loneliness.
More than a niche
Tinggal Meninggal’s genre isn’t easy to pin down. It’s not quite a workplace comedy. It’s not too heavy for high schoolers, but also layered enough for older viewers. It touches on themes like chosen family, intergenerational disconnection and societal expectations.
Even Gema’s journey ends up exploring who we call “family” and why. How being born into a family doesn’t mean you belong to it, and how sometimes, your real family is the one you choose.
Through a subplot involving Nirina Zubir’s character, the film also shows a woman who does not want to be a mother.
To connect with Gen Z, arguably the most emotionally fluent and meme-literate audience, the film leaned into memes and short-video-style editing to help it feel culturally current without trying too hard.
For Imajinari, this film is another example of betting on first-time directors. The production house gave Yandy Laurens his first non-adaptation feature with Jatuh Cinta Seperti di Film-Film (Falling in Love Like in the Movies), which went on to win seven Citra trophies. It also allowed Arie Kriting to direct his debut feature Kaka Boss last year. And now, it’s Kristo’s turn.
But Ernest, as a producer, isn’t just chasing new voices for the sake of it. He’s looking for authenticity.
“If we keep relying on market research and success stories, there’s not going to be something new,” he says.
That’s why Kristo wasn’t asked to compromise his vision. Instead, they built an out-of-the-box marketing plan that embraced the risk.
Knowing that dark comedy isn’t the easiest sell in Indonesia, Ernest and the team focused on brand awareness months ahead of release. And they’re thinking internationally too.
Back in May, it was announced that Barunson E&A, the South Korean studio behind Parasite, acquired remake rights for three Imajinari titles: Agak Laen (A Little Bit Different), its upcoming sequel and Tinggal Meninggal. While that is not a direct distribution deal, it does open a door. It gives the original IP more visibility, just like how CODA brought global attention to La Famille Bélier.
For a film that Kristo once thought was “too niche”, Tinggal Meninggal is proving that loneliness and the need to be seen is anything but.
Tinggal Meninggal is out in cinemas now.
