As someone who is consistently on the prowl for content about my own nation's heritage, (because like Jon Snow -- I know nothing) Khun Thong Daeng: The Inspirations should have been a movie I sprinted to buy tickets for on the day it was released.
No matter how muddied, rosy or historically inaccurate my culture is depicted, I always like to get my hands on whatever I can find, because a glimpse, even if erroneous, is better than no glimpse at all. The animation film did sort of check all the boxes in my (extremely basic) list of requirements when gauging whether something is worth my effort: it has pictures, somewhat of a hook and no technical, incomprehensible jargon that would require twice the time to understand what the heck was being discussed.
Movie production quality aside, it was something I should have been excited to watch and learn from. But it wasn't. In fact, it had already lost me before it even started, mainly because the animation isn't even about His Majesty the King's iconic pooch, Khun Thong Daeng. It's actually a melange of product placements, with tie-ins ranging from water bottles to banks. Also in the picture are three other fictional dogs that share the attributes of and are inspired by the real Khun Thong Daeng -- those being gratitude, loyalty and courage.
Of course these are praiseworthy traits, but a billion other dogs out there share these attributes too, all with stories of their own. What could have been special about this film is the fact that the main subject is one of the closest and most loved beings to the longest reigning monarch in the world. It is a ready-made storytelling gold mine: from the humble beginnings of a street dog, Khun Thong Daeng has risen to become a gentle symbol of gratitude and a part of the royal family.
From a story-telling point of view and seeing what historical value this animation could have held, it was a terribly missed chance to create something significant. We all know how strictly rigid everything about the palace is, but working closely with media corporations, writers and artists is what the establishment should consider opening up to, in order to create nationally relevant works.
When people look back to reflect on our history or to find cultural touch-points, what comes to mind are readily available materials in popular culture. The common man will not read through historical tombs with small print and no pictures. It takes time and it takes effort, but we have to make the content digestible for the common man. We gripe about the white-washed depictions of our nation, such as in the cases of 1999 film Anna And The King. But can we really blame the outcome when we simply ban everything and downright refuse to work with Hollywood in order to create a somewhat acceptable common ground?
Speaking of this legendary character Anna Leonowens, I was in New York last month and had the opportunity to watch The King And I on Broadway. Clearly I would watch it for any traces of my nation's heritage -- or at least, what the white world thought it was. If based on any historical accuracy, of course it was a joke.
I also cringed every time the cast spoke in Thai, none of which was even Thai. In fact, Prince Chulalongkorn was played by a boy that had a Mexican-sounding name. But for all its glitches, it had production and entertainment value. It puts Thailand on the foreigner's conscious map and although it's largely fictitious, it is rooted in real life events that make for an interesting and worthwhile piece of theatre.
As factually incorrect as the musical may be, a handful of inspired audiences are probably going to Google up or read more about our history and through that process, they will hopefully glean truthful insights about the real events that took place. Even if we cannot accurately portray what we'd like to 100%, putting something out there is better than nothing at all. Ten minutes into The King And I and it's clear that the West only take us for simple minded barbarians, but that's only because we refuse to take up the task of telling our own stories ourselves.
Parisa Pichitmarn is a feature writer of the Life section of the Bangkok Post.