Review: EKI's PEREMPUAN PUNYA CERITA is Dazzling, Perplexing

 On 4–7 September 2025, EKI Dance Company returned to the stage with Perempuan Punya Cerita, performed at Gelora Bakti Budaya, Taman Ismail Marzuki. The production was presented as a musical that tackles the issues of bullying, sexual assault, and misogyny. Directed in a cinematic and artistic style rich with symbolism, the show unfolded in two stories titled Cerita Anya and Cerita Jami. It combined complex choreography with striking visual effects, creating a heavy and emotional atmosphere.

Perempuan Punya Cerita is a repackage of two of EKI Dance Company’s short musicals. Cerita Anya is a nearly identical remounting of Bangku Kosong, originally performed at Festival Musikal Indonesia 2023, while Cerita Jami is a reworking of Perempuan Punya Cerita, originally performed at Festival Musikal Indonesia 2024. 

Ara Ajisiwi is both the scriptwriter and director of the show, in tandem with Ericka Vichy as part of the scriptwriting team and Revina Valensia as the assistant director. Nala Amrytha serves as the head choreographer alongside the choreography team consisting of Kresna 'Peceng' Wijaya, Ericha Vicky, Takako Leen, Yuliani Ho, Angel Mailoa, Novita Wong, and Yosep Wahyu Tristiantoro. The show also features artistic direction by Iskandar Loedin.  

Cerita Anya (review by Zahira)

From the very beginning, the audience was greeted with stunning stage visuals: a chair floating in midair and windows that shifted colors. Ara Ajisiwi opened the stage with fiery energy as apex mean girl Farah, setting the tone on fire and immediately followed by dynamic music—a blend of xylophone-like sounds and bursts of rock. From that one moment, goosebumps. The atmosphere was chilling.

The narrative centered on Bobby (Gerry Gerardo), a nerdy student often bullied for being different. Along the way, he crossed paths with Anya (Nala Amrytha), an unassuming girl who also carried her own darker side. The conflict reached its peak when explicit photos of Anya circulated, sparking fractured relationships among her peers and uncovering deeper problems: bullying, victim blaming, and digital crimes.

Meanwhile, the presence of the teacher Pak Topan (Uli Herdi) as a narrator effectively bridged the story for the audience, providing context for why Anya eventually died, with the plot shifting back and forth to “100 days earlier.” The flashbacks were not presented as horror, but told plainly, allowing the escalation of the tragedy to be understood with clarity.

There were standout musical moments—such as Bobby’s furious solo after being slandered by Anya, or the ensemble’s haunting choreography resembling the famous local ghost kuntilanak, eerie and satisfying. Songs about Coki, a student branded as a “gentleman” for his supposed #WomensRights stance, were delivered with irony, showing how heroism can turn into something performative.

Gerry’s take on Bobby became the gravitational center of the show—his emotions were layered: pain, obsession, and ultimately despair that led him to suicide. Meanwhile, the appearance of Anya’s ghost created theatrical horror that truly raised goosebumps, especially in the red velvet screen sequence with precise hand choreography.

The lighting design deserves praise. Color transitions from cold blue to blood red deepened the chilling mood, especially in Anya’s ghost scenes. The final stage image—Anya’s chair marked as a “dangerous seat” after Bobby’s suicide—closed the performance with powerful symbolism: a classroom that should be a safe space turned into a witness of collective trauma.

Although most of the storyline was intense and cohesive, the romantic subplot between Anya and Coki felt somewhat awkward and inorganic. The sudden flirting and failed kiss came across as weird, clashing with the psychological horror tone being built. However, this did not significantly disrupt the overall experience, as the focus quickly returned to the central Bobby–Anya conflict.

With intelligent stage artistry, choreography that is both frightening and beautiful, and a socially relevant message, Cerita Anya succeeds in shaking its audience emotionally. From goosebumps to tears, the production proves that Indonesian theatre can present dark stories with courage and depth.

 Although, my one criticism is I believe we get more of the story from Bobby’s perspective instead of Anya’s, particularly considering the segment’s title.

Cerita Jami (review by Rakaputra Paputungan)

Cerita Jami is based on the Cerita Cibinong segment of 2008’s anthology movie Perempuan Punya Cerita.

It tells the story of Jami (Ara Ajisiwi), a single mother living in the slums of Jakarta with her daughter, Minah (portrayed by Leandra Aruna Sunaryo as a child and Selina Karen Leonathan as teenager). To make ends meet, she works as a janitor at a seedy night club.

Upon learning that her boyfriend Narto (Yosep W. Triantoro) has been abusing Minah sexually, Jami takes Minah and runs away. Cicih (Nala Amryhta), a dangdut singer from the club where Jami works, agrees to house them.

But all is not well, as the gaudy human trafficker Mansur (Gabriel Harvianto) sets his sights on Minah, believing that she will fetch a high price. Mansur first tries to ask Jami to let Minah go with him to Jakarta, promising a better education and quality of life.

When that fails, Mansur asks Cicih’s help to lure Minah away. Cicih complies, telling Minah to go to the night market on her own, and suggesting that Jami buy a cellphone for Minah – keeping Jami away from seeing Minah.

The plan works. Minah is whisked away to Jakarta and Jami is left alone, desperately asking passersby if they saw her daughter. As she plunges into despair, Minah’s schoolmate and crush Gilang (Aryadhani Sukendra) comes knocking. He admits to seeing Minah being taken away, and shows a photo of Minah being married to a much older man.

Despite this horrifying revelation, Gilang tells Jami that he considers her a “cool” woman who could surely withstand this ordeal – and so could Minah, as Jami’s daughter. The show ends with a new number, espousing that women can stand strong by telling their stories.

Cerita Jami is a fascinating piece of musical theater. Although it comes with all the fixings one might expect from musicals – flashy art design, group numbers, catchy songs – it’s telling a very bleak story. For the most part, it worked due to a strong and meaningful sense of irony. We understand that the glim and the glitz of the numbers are hiding a dark undertone, just like how real-life works. The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, as the adage goes.

Particular praise also goes to the cast who manage to make the characters still feel grounded despite the show’s theatricality. Ara Ajisiwi went from the domineering popular girl Farah in Cerita Anya to the fidgety and rough-around-the-edges single mother Jami in a manner of minutes, and that is a remarkable achievement. Her body language and intonation created a very strong sense of character appropriate for the lead role.

Nala Amrytha’s Cicih is also fascinatingly written. When she first takes in Jami and Minah, she seemingly had no ulterior motive. But when she finally gives in to her greed and helps sell the pubescent Minah, she doesn't seem to have any misgivings either. She’s a character who – like most people – lives in the gray area of morality. And Nala manages to display this nuanced character smoothly, making both sides of Cicih’s character feel natural despite the moral paradox.

Other than the acting, the dancing is superb – as expected of EKI – in not only entertaining the audience, but illustrating the actions creatively and vividly through motion. The singing might not be a stand-out, but it’s always solid and enjoyable.

The art design is, once again, a definite highlight. The main set pieces are two big cubes serving as facades of rickety houses and stores, but with a technological twist: one side of each cube bears a huge LED screen. This screen plays various scenes that compliment the on-stage action – Jami’s past, her inner thoughts, and the surrounding neighborhood, to mention a few – with surprisingly high fidelity.

In the scene where Jami tries to grapple with the reality of her losing Minah, a sheer screen comes down, overlaying the grief-stricken Jami with silhouettes of her past, including a phantom Minah who she can see clearly but can never touch. It’s a powerful and effective use of projection.

Another stand out scene is the moment when Jami goes around in a daze, asking people if they’ve seen Minah. She even breaks the fourth wall for a moment, directly addressing the audience. But then she goes to ask the ensemble members, who just walk past her, uncaring and barely acknowledging her. The lighting comes out from the wings, casting the ensemble’s faces in darkness while the heartbroken Jami keeps trying to find Minah, fruitlessly.

There is a very interesting change that the creative team has made to this segment, compared to 2024’s Prempuan Punya Cerita short musical. The original ending is even bleaker, with a vision of Minah coming back, now clad in a glitzy metropolitan outfit and singing about how she’s no longer the good girl that her mother knew.

The revised ending, I believe, is meant to be more optimistic and hopeful, with Gilang saying that Jami and Minah are strong women who can surely brave their situation. And after the show ends, the LED screens broadcast that the show is dedicated to people like Jami, Anya, Minah, and Bobby, whose stories are often unheard.

While this is, of course, a good message that’s always relevant in a patriarchal world, and I don’t doubt EKI Dance Company’s sincerity, it comes across as forced in this particular context.

First, the message in Cerita Anya is a muddled one. First presented as an ‘urban legend’- themed short musical, the show concerns itself first and foremost with creating a gripping spectacle with some frightening moments (which it undoubtedly succeeded at).

But the theme of ‘platforming unheard voices’ falls flat when we consider that Anya met her untimely end through violence at the hands of someone who’s portrayed as very mentally unstable, at least. By making Bobby self-righteous, frenetic, and a creep, it’s difficult to pin the root of Anya’s demise at misogyny or patriarchy in particular. Bobby’s attack on her feels more like a culprit trying to silence a witness, or even the act of a crazed serial killer from a horror movie.

That is not to say that Anya’s gender doesn’t play a part; her being a girl and getting close to someone else’s boyfriend leads to her bullying, and Bobby set a hidden camera in the girl’s bathroom for perverted reasons. But Bobby’s characterization as an overall unstable young man overshadows these factors (and, as a side note, makes the tribute to Bobby at the very end of the show quite questionable).

As for Cerita Jami, the new ending feels unearned mainly due to two things. First, Gilang doesn’t share any stage time with Jami before he comes in and praises her for her strength. It would be more meaningful and honest if Gilang sees Jami’s resilience firsthand. And secondly, the ending itself is still, objectively, very bleak and horrifying – her underage daughter has just been taken away. Without time for Jami to contend with this, or take any actual action, the message leaves me unsure – is it earnest (as the show’s final message claims to be) or ironic (as Cerita Jami has mostly been)?

Upon evaluating the show as a whole, my main takeaway is that these are two very strong segments with bold artistic direction, wonderful performances, and great pacing – but with a message that feels tacked on top of it.

Although this repackaging of two disparate short musicals might feel lesser than the sum of its parts, EKI Dance Company has proven time and time again that they’re capable of creating some of the best shows around town on the artistic and technical fronts. Therefore, considering the strong artistic voices of Ara and Nala as EKI’s creative leads, their next collaboration will surely be a tale worth telling and witnessing, true to the words Perempuan Punya Cerita (Women Have Stories).