Ghost in the Cell (Joko Anwar, 2026)

“This is Indonesia, not Norway,” the protagonists of Joko Anwar’s horror comedy Ghost in the Cell keep reminding each other as a means of explaining their dismal circumstances. The prison they’re confined within isn’t so different from the wider society, and even while inside they’re subject to the same hypocrisies, hierarchies, injustices and inequalities as they were outside. Ghosts, however, cannot be bound by prison walls and will seek bloody vengeance down to the last angry man.

Indeed, one of the ghost’s characteristics is that it seems to feed on negative energy, targeting the angriest man it can find to sustain itself. It generally manifests as a kind of doppelgänger in which the victim is essentially confronted by themselves, their own rage and frustration turned back on them. To that extent, the message seems to be that in the end your anger will consume you if you don’t do something to mitigate it, forcing the men to take advantage of the tools they’ve been given to calm themselves such as prayer and dancing. Every so often during a fight, one of the men will call out that their friend’s aura is turning red which places them at risk of being targeted by the ghost, so they should immediately bust out some dance moves to improve their mood.

But at the same time, their anger can be a powerful weapon if turned in the right direction as de facto leader of the prisoners Anggoro (Abimana Aryasatya) later says. Many of them are in here because of some kind political manipulation. He was cheated out of his house by land sharks who wanted to build a luxury resort, so he tried to rob them but got caught and ended up in prison. One of the other men is a university professor who tried to expose corruption in his institution but was framed for theft and incarcerated. “It’s easier to survive in this country if people think you’re dumb,” he later reflects on reassuming his intellectual persona during the mini revolution provoked by the arrival of the ghost.

Dimas (Endy Arfian) ought to understand this better than anyone after being framed for the brutal murder and dismemberment of his boss. He’d just finished an article on the illegal clearing of a protected forest to build a nickel mine with investment from people in the government. His editor did not, however, want the hassle of publishing it especially as the paper is on its last legs. He objects to Dimas’ focus on the series of mysterious deaths that have taken place there, something he describes as better suited to a trashy clickbait outlet whereas their last remaining readership has stuck around for their rigorous reporting. The implication being that rigorous reporting is not sustainable in Indonesia, though another prisoner suggests that Indonesians care more about celebrities than their own lives and journalists have simply followed the money to give them what they want with a constant flow of salacious stories to distract them from the bigger issues such as the inherent corruption in their society.

This corruption exists within the prison too as one wing is dedicated to hosting corrupt politicians who live in luxurious cells with fridges and air conditioning. They can even leave whenever they want and treat prison like some kind of retreat where they can deflect press interest while basically carrying on doing the same things while inside. The irony is that both the prison warden and the corrupt politician behind the nickel mine were both once former activists who wanted Indonesia to be a better place. The warden joined a political party because he thought he could change it from inside before coming to the conclusion that nothing was going to change, and if you can’t beat them, join them. “In Indonesia it’s the survival of the fittest,” he explains, “they call it corruption, I call it reward for the smarts.”

In a way, perhaps that’s the real ghost in the cell, the imprisoned spectre of their youthful idealism. “We just need to save ourselves,” the warden tells his underling, an argument immediately countered by Anggoro who points out that they could all continue to prioritise their own survival, but the ghost will come for them in the end unless they work together to try to stop it. The message seems to be that they could save Indonesia too, if only they stopped allowing themselves to be distracted and remained united. Reminiscent of Silence of the Lambs, the ghost likes to create gruesome and ironic tableaux of its victims while itself perhaps distracted, sating its lust for vengeance while searching for the real source of injustice, but only finally finding it when the people work together for a common cause.


Ghost in the Cell is on digital platforms 26 October 2026 from Blue Finch Film Releasing.

Trailer

The Draft! (Setan Alas!, Yusron Fuadi, 2023)

It’s easy to feel as if you’re trapped on a certain path and that unseen forces are dictating your life, leaving you with little power to overcome your fate. But what if you were really imprisoned inside the as yet unfinished script for a terrible movie by a lazy, half-hearted writer who can’t think of anything more interesting than killing you in horrifying ways while being constantly hassled by an equally dull producer who threatens to replace him with Joko Anwar? 

That is indeed the dilemma faced by those at the centre of Yusron Fuadi’s Indonesian meta horror, The Draft (Setan Alas!). The opening sequence follows them as they drive towards a remote country villa owned by rich girl Ani’s (Anggi Waluyo) recently divorced parents. As soon as they get there, they begin remarking on how it’s just like something out of an Indonesian horror movie complete with a Dutch cemetery not too far away and a creepy caretaker who seems to pop up out of nowhere. Predictably, the power’s gone out and the generator’s on the blink, so they’ll have to have atmospheric candles instead and obviously can’t get any phone signal to call for help. Ani’s also brought a photo of her apparently deceased younger sister, though none of that turns out to matter because the screenwriter’s about to forget about it. 

All of this heavy exposition is delivered in a very knowing manner, as if mocking the tropes of the Indonesian horror movie while simultaneously indulging in them until the gang suddenly figure out that they’re just characters in a half-written screenplay which is why they can’t really remember much of their pasts. As such, they’re desperately in search of “god”, or the writer, who alone has control over their fates and seems to have ill intentions for them while their only means of defence is to force him into a rewrite so they won’t die. After a while, they begin to work out how they can manipulate this world by influencing the writer’s thoughts when their joking speculation about might what happen next gives him ideas, so they can also write into their dialogue that there’s a massive stash of arms in the basement that will be very useful against the surprise zombie hordes. 

Meanwhile, in the real world, time passes for the writer who burns his motorbike and argues with his producer while constantly rewriting the screenplay to suit his preferences. The gang joke that there can’t be that many zombies coming because CGI’s too expensive, and no one would give a film with dialogue this bad a budget big enough to pay for thousands of extras. The writer is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. He either writes the film the producer wants with its generic plot and stereotypical characters or he doesn’t get to make a film at all.

The characters too are protesting being a part of this project and fighting for a movie along with a better life in which they have more light and shade, actual backstories and personalities both they and the audience can invest in. But increasingly, their author leaves them hanging as the real interferes with his screenwriting dreams and years go by with no more “revisions” leaving this film a perpetually unfinished draft that he may pick up again some day more out of idleness that ambition. The dream world of the movie seems to be forever receding like the cliff edge that prevents the characters from leaving, the abandoned drafts burning away as stripping layers from their reality. 

Trapped in this eternal state of limbo, they do at least realise they have an advantage and time to train, to write their own stories in the absence of their not quite so omniscient god. They might, after all, enjoy a life of “worldly pleasures without any consequences or commitment” while they wait as if this place too could be a kind of heaven free of any possible constraint save the inability to leave or to feel time passing and finally be allowed some kind of forward motion and growth. This project might be paused, indefinitely, and destined to live forever in the draw as an unfinished draft, but there might still be time to bring themselves into being while their inattentive creator perhaps does the same.


The Draft! is on UK and Ireland digital platforms 27 October.

Trailer (English subtitles)