Morrison : A magical, conflicted examination of Thailand’s washed-out history with the US military

“More than 40 years after the American military left Thailand, the strange colorful lights and sounds left behind are still with us.” The opening line of Phuttiphong Aroonpheng’s Morrison, teases that, wherever they are, the Americans do not go quietly.

The Thai director’s second feature film after Venice Film Festival 2018’s Best Film winner Manta Ray (2018), Morrison is an investigation into the still palpable effects of the US military based in Thailand during the Vietnam war and proves that unpacking the relationship between the US and Thailand in this history chapter is a lot more complicated than it seems.

In Morrison, Aroonpheng illuminates the US military’s historical presence in Thailand through the fictional Paradise Hotel. Dilapidated and unassuming, the hotel is a shadow of its glory days, a haven for former US air force pilots, or GIs, and staffed by local men and bar girls. Set in modern day, Jimmy Morrison, a former pop star turned engineer, is tasked to work on its renovation. The film is a mystery drama, filled with dream sequences, as Jimmy encounters peculiarities in the hotel. Only a few GIs remain such as the mysterious and rugged-faced John who shows Jimmy “American magic” through the trickery of lights and sounds during his stay. Jimmy encounters supernatural occurrences throughout the film; in conversation with Jimmy on the hotel’s oddities, John shrugs it off, saying that “it can be like a dream”. To this, Johnny crucially asks, “Is it a good dream or a bad dream?”.

The film may be Aroonpheng’s second feature film as director, but it is worth noting that he has been a cinematographer for nearly two decades. Aroonpheng’s eye for cinematography is thus still evident in Morrison as the film treats audiences to stunning, moody shots of the hotel and its nightlife under the trusted eyes of cinematographer Nawarophaat Rungphiboonsophit, commendably resembling the same mesmerizing mystique of Blade Runner 2049’s (2017) visuals. The film exhibits Rungphiboonsophit’s talents, with carefully placed compositions and a sexy color grading of contrasting blues and magentas. Rungphiboonsophit was also the cinematographer to Aroopheng’s debut film Manta Ray.

When focusing on the lives of the hotel staff, the film echoes the eeriness in Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining (1980) which also comments on American brutality toward indigenous peoples. The local hotel staff work tirelessly for GI guests who are self-serving, entitled, and, when challenged by the locals, turn ruthless and violent. One the other hand, the hotel staff are spent and ghostly, speaking only in whispers. Perhaps the only exception is John is proud of having adopted Thai language and culture. He is also a hopeless romantic to his Thai lover and a forlorn father looking to reconnect with his only family in Thailand. Morrison sums up the anxiety of the social damage caused by the US in Thailand with quietly disturbing scenes that show the ugly side of the hotel’s business. As tensions between the foreigners and locals inevitably tip the scales of power in Paradise Hotel, they are unsurprisingly revealed to be in favor of the Americans.

However, Morrison is ambitious in its attempts to address historical trauma. The film suggests that the power imbalance persists in the present day yet its fantasy ending—an admittedly spectacular show magically orchestrated by GI John—appears to persuade the audience to marvel at the beauty in all the hotel’s glorious ruins. It is as though, by John’s self-awareness of his past regrets, that the film tries to convince viewers that the tragedies that have happened in the hotel can still have their happy revision. It is questionable, though, if this is enough.

To his credit as writer, Aroonpheng presents an array of interesting side characters with the hotel staff, an impressive feat as he does so without needing to delve too much into their individual backstories. Each is portrayed with quirks that are not overdone, commanding the viewer’s attention as much as the protagonist Jimmy, and taking center stage as soon as they enter the scene. In one particularly masterful scene, Aroonpheng even manages to weave them all cohesively using fantasy and song. What could be easily glossed over is that music plays an integral role in Morrison. The film pays tribute to the Thai rock music scene that had burgeoned during the Vietnam war with Thai musicians performing for US soldiers in base camps. Besides a flashback memorial service for rock legend Jim Morrison of The Doors, the film even features Thailand’s ‘Guitar King’ Laem Morrison, appearing as himself in the film’s opening scene as he attends a funeral with GIs present, a direct attempt to harken back to the country’s rock music scene in the 1970s. Moreover, the film features local band, Solitude is Bliss, performing a song in what may be the film’s most central scene, besides lending their talent in other songs in Morrison’s soundtrack. This is a treat for music buffs, which spotlights modern Thailand’s rock music scene.

Even so, Morrison’s flaws lay mainly in its underdeveloped protagonist and its indulgence with time. While watching, I was afraid that the only thing that kept me invested in Jimmy’s story arc was actor, and real-life singer-songwriter, Chulachak Chakrabondse’s sauve portrayal of the character.

With Aroonpheng’s experience as a director-cinematographer, Morrison was guaranteed to be a cinematic treat—a film that successfully executes its dream sequences to meld the absurd with reality. It is through this weapon that the film emphasizes the lingering effects of the American military’s historical presence in Thailand as ghostly and haunting, as viewers are hypnotically numbed and enter the dazed reality of Paradise Hotel.