
Carmela van der Kruk
Rara

Returning home after their honeymoon, a couple find themselves haunted by a disembodied head seeking its missing body.
I’ve seen a lot of horror films where a disembodied head rolls around causing trouble—it’s a trope older than The Brain That Wouldn’t Die. But Trinil, Hanung Bramantyo’s 2024 Netflix horror offering, doesn’t just resurrect the trope; it drags it kicking and screaming into a 1970s Indonesian tea plantation, where the real horror might just be the film’s own tonal whiplash. The premise is simple: a newlywed couple returns to the wife’s inherited estate, only to be haunted by the severed head of a vengeful spirit demanding its body back.
What follows is less a coherent horror narrative and more a fever dream of melodrama, camp, and half-baked CGI, all wrapped in the groovy aesthetics of a bygone era.

The film’s greatest strength—and, paradoxically, its most glaring weakness—is its commitment to the 1970s setting. The production design is a love letter to the era: the cars, the costumes, the mustaches, the wallpaper. It’s all there, meticulously recreated, and for a while, it’s enough to carry the film.
The tea plantation, with its sprawling fields and colonial-era architecture, exudes a sleepy, eerie atmosphere that feels like a character in its own right. But atmosphere alone can’t sustain a film when the script keeps tripping over its own feet. Trinil oscillates wildly between horror, soap opera, and unintentional comedy, often within the same scene. One moment, you’re watching a tense exorcism; the next, you’re laughing at Fattah Amin’s Yusof, the film’s resident "exorcist/psychologist," who looks like he wandered off the set of a Guns N’ Roses music video and into a séance.
The central relationship between Rara (Carmela van der Kruk) and her mother, Ayu (Wulan Guritno), is where the film’s emotional core should lie. Their dynamic is fraught with tension, resentment, and unresolved trauma, and the film frames their conflict as the heart of its horror. But the writing undermines the potential here.
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Hanung Bramantyo’s latest horror outing, Trinil (2024), has landed on Netflix with a premise that promises chills—a newlywed couple haunted by a disembodied head seeking its missing body . But behind the eerie setup, early reviews suggest the film struggles to balance its ambitions with execution, latestnetflix.com argues, leaving audiences with more questions than frights.
Trinil follows Rara (Carmela van der Kruk) and Sutan (Rangga Nattra), a couple returning from their honeymoon to Rara’s inherited tea plantation in Central Java . The estate, once owned by her Dutch father, William Saunder, becomes the stage for supernatural chaos when a vengeful spirit disrupts their new life. The premise leans into classic horror tropes—a haunted inheritance, colonial-era secrets, and a body-horror twist—but critics argue the film’s pacing and writing undercut its potential.
A review from DM Talkies highlights the disconnect between the cast’s talent and the material they’re given. Carmela van der Kruk, praised for her screen presence, is reportedly saddled with a character who spends the first half of the film "complaining and whining," only to deliver a shallow emotional payoff later . The critique suggests Bramantyo’s direction may have prioritized atmosphere over depth, leaving the actors with little to work with beyond surface-level scares.
Bramantyo, a prolific Indonesian filmmaker known for his work across romantic dramas, religious-themed stories, and biopics, brings his signature versatility to Trinil . His filmography includes hits like Ayat-Ayat Cinta (2008) and Habibie & Ainun (2012), but horror remains a less explored territory for him. Trinil’s blend of supernatural elements and colonial-era backstory aligns with his knack for historical narratives, though the film’s reception suggests he may still be finding his footing in the horror genre.
The cast, which includes Fattah Amin, Wulan Guritno, and Willem Bevers, rounds out a mix of established and rising Indonesian talent . However, without stronger character development or a tighter script, their performances risk getting lost in the film’s sleepy pacing .
Trinil’s premise—rooted in a Dutch colonial legacy and a tea plantation setting—could have been a standout in Indonesia’s horror landscape. Instead, early reactions describe it as a film that’s easy to forget, despite its eerie premise. The DM Talkies review sums it up bluntly: "Come for the horror, stay for the sleepy vibes" . Whether the film’s flaws lie in the writing, direction, or a combination of both, it’s clear Trinil falls short of the mark for audiences craving genuine scares.
For now, Trinil remains a curiosity—a horror film with an intriguing setup but a lackluster delivery. Whether Bramantyo will revisit the genre with a stronger follow-up remains to be seen.
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