In mid-2024, Thai lawmakers passed a Marriage Equality bill that guaranteed equal rights for same-sex couples under the law. Before that, many same-sex couples lived in uncertainty about their families and unions. The Paradise of Thorns tells one such story.
Starring Jeff Satur, the film is a wild tale of loss, gluttony, suffering, and the cruelty of life. When someone thinks they can’t take anymore, life throws something else at them for good measure.
The Paradise of Thorns tells the story of Thongkam, a gay man who dedicated his life to his partner Sek (Pongsakorn “Toey” Mettarikanon) and built a home together, but when tragedy strikes, everything he’d worked for is lost.
The film has a lot going for it. It tells a timely and entertaining tale anchored by a superb performance from its lead, Satur.
However, some foundational issues affect the viewing experience and by the end, the main point (or the assumed main point) is lost.
Before the Durians Mature, The Paradise is Not Prickly
Let’s start with the good.
The Paradise of Thorns was directed by Narubet Kuno, the director behind one of Thailand‘s most mesmerizing gay drama series, I Told Sunset About You.
Unsurprisingly, the filmography is exquisite, with the director capturing the varying moods in the film.
One of the things that made I Told Sunset About You a masterpiece was the setting, and this also applies to The Paradise of Thorns.
Thai filmmakers—and filmmakers in general—tend to shy away from exploring the lives led by ordinary poor people, often opting to set their stories in major cities like Bangkok or Chiang Mai in well-furnished modern apartments.
Yet a lot of people don’t live this kind of life, gay people included. Setting the film in a rural area elevates the film to levels it would not have been able to achieve with posh settings.
It shows how hard Thongkam and Sek had to work to build their home and farm. It also emphasizes Saeng (Srida Puapimol) and Mo’s (Engfa Waraha) desire to own what belongs to Thongkam.
While I do not endorse desiring other people’s property, I understand why the former two would want a house with tin roofing and a comfortable bed. Their little ramshackle structure, which looked like it was going to roll down the hill if the winds blew too strong, was a far cry from Sek and Thongkam’s house.
These hardships, which the other characters and Thongkam endure, showcase just how unsettling it can be to have your life’s work taken from you. You start from scratch in a place where you can’t rub two and two together.
Great performances, led by Satur, anchor The Paradise of Thorns. He can do comedic, emotional, and action scenes even though he doesn’t get to do the last one in the film. The film could have used his talent more if there had been a well-choreographed action scene or a song.
It’s Jeff Satur; he can do anything.
The Durians Are Grown, The Thorns Are Here
The Paradise of Thorns has a foundational problem: it doesn’t know what it wants to communicate.
Going into it, one would expect a Marriage Equality drama that makes a point about why gay couples, like other couples, deserve to have their relationships recognized.
The film is undoubtedly camp as it exaggerates some scenes.
Constant exaggeration affects the message because it makes it feel like cheaply made comedy. Given the subject matter’s seriousness, constantly having Thongkam act like a clown takes away from the story.
Sure, the dictionary might use him to illustrate “camp” with his unique fashion style and language. Still, there should have been a better way to communicate this aspect of his personality.
The Paradise of Thorns doesn’t know if it’s telling a love, marriage, or revenge story.
It never quite achieves these themes, and that’s because it does something frustrating for over two hours.
The film shifts from one plot to another, never quite exploring the previous one completely, and when revisited, it undoes all the work.
In two hours, we watch Sek die, his mother and step-sister/wife/lover move in, his husband falls, rises again, deals with challenges, falls in love again, gets married, loses his second husband, and loses the crop. That’s a lot!
The film is a whirlwind of stories that never mature well, as it doesn’t follow the three-step storytelling format that works for the 99% of movies that utilize it. Introduction, development, and resolution will always work if well executed.
The film is a pendulum of hit-and-miss with its romantic storytelling.
It leads the viewer to believe that Thongkam and Sek were in love, but later, it says Sek was using him, only to redeem him later on.
One can appreciate these twists in TV series because there is time to explore these nuances of relationships, but a movie doesn’t have that luxury.
Having Thongkam fall in love with Jingna (Harit “Keng” Buayoi), only for him to be slaughtered, is cruel, a kind of cruelty that, again, doesn’t work in a movie.
By the film’s end, frustration dominates because one can’t tell what the point is. It’s two hours of absolute chaos, but it’s a very disjointed two hours.
Verdict
The Paradise of Thorns is an expansive tale of resilience in the middle of loss and discrimination, elevated by great performances and a setting. However, it struggles to remain on track, occasionally wobbling as it shifts between various acts.