This was the best film I saw at TIFF 2024! As someone who dabbles in Southeast Asian films, this one blew me away. Naruebet “Boss” Kuno’s directorial-writing debut stunned audiences and had us all gasping for air in the theatre. It also moved some people to tears. Kuno brought madness, beauty, jealousy, love, tragedy, and happiness in his dramatic thriller, The Paradise of Thorns.
In a remote, mountainous Thai village, there is a durian orchard—a paradise Thongkam (Jeff Satur) and Sek (Pongsakorn Mettarikanon) have built for themselves from the ground up. After five years of hard work, their trees are blooming. The two men promise each other eternal love despite not being married, as gay marriage is not recognized in Thailand. But their dream life is soon shattered when Sek falls to his death.
“This was the best film I saw at TIFF 2024!”
For Thongkam, coping with the loss of his love is only part of his misfortune. Without his name on the land deed, Sek’s mother, Saeng (Srida Puapimol)—who shows up with her adopted daughter, Mo (Engfa Waraha)—is entitled to ownership of the orchard. Thongkam must now fight to reclaim the fruits of the couple’s love and labour.
The story and symbolism in The Paradise of Thorns are prominent, with the title conveying significant meaning. This tragic narrative is rich with conflicts and emotions, dealing with issues such as anti-queer laws, land ownership, receiving justice, and finding true love. The symbolism of the title makes sense: the durian farm, so precious to Thongkam and Sek, represented their hopes for the future.
Durian is one of the most highly valued fruits in Thailand and must be handled delicately. Similarly, Thongkam’s love and state of mind are fragile, with everyone and everything getting in the way of all he holds dear. The durian is a large, spiky fruit—difficult to handle, much like Thongkam’s battle for the farm in the film.
The violence in The Paradise of Thorns is comparable to Saltburn, with characters manipulating one another, symbolizing the thorns. These metaphorical thorns are reflected in the choices they make throughout the story. At one point, a friend of Thongkam remarks that he should make a decision while he still has options. Ironically, every main character’s vindictive choices ultimately lead to their demise, underscoring the tragic consequences of their actions.
What elevates the film is its cinematography, with stunning shot choices by Tawanwad Wanavit. Both Kuno and Wanavit capture the beauty and dangers of the Thai countryside. The lush greenery of the Thai farmland reminds me of what I saw when visiting family in Hawaii and the Philippines. But as in these places, it is the people who prove to be dangerous.
The score and soundtrack were just as menacing and creepy to match the freak of what was happening. It was a transient feeling of eerie sounds like that in Blink Twicemixed with Poor Things’ baroque strangeness, but also had some terrifying orchestral notes like that in Longlegs. The constant dread or betrayal Thongkam faced was mirrored with some happy memories, where the background music would be lighter and hopeful—if only momentarily.
“The story and symbolism in The Paradise of Thorns are prominent, with the title conveying significant meaning.”
The Paradise of Thorns was a masterpiece in the drama-thriller genre. It built meaningful connections with its characters and pulled the rug out at all the right moments. The story’s pacing was executed brilliantly, subverting typical expectations in key scenes. Director Kuno took his time allowing audiences to deeply explore each character’s thoughts and feelings, making sure there was never a dull moment. Just as people rooted for Tim Robbins’ character to clear his name in The Shawshank Redemption, audiences will be cheering for Thongkam to get what he’s owed.
The film transcended the screen to such an extent that Thailand recently passed its same-sex marriage bill—the first in Southeast Asia. The Paradise of Thorns was deeply moving and had a significant impact on real-life issues. Few movies manage to tell a compelling narrative that encourages change without pushing a political agenda, but this film achieved that. It highlights the value of international festivals like TIFF, which allow local stories to reach global audiences, letting us in the West enjoy such masterpieces.
