Review: Threesome (Ther Khao Rao Phee)

• Written and directed by Tanwarin Sukkhapisit
• Starring Arpa Pawilai, Chaiyapol Julien Poupart, Steven Fuhrer
• Released in Thai cinemas on March 13, 2014; rated 15+
• Wise Kwai's rating: 4/5

DC Comics might consider hiring Tanwarin Sukkhapisit if it ever wants to reboot the Catwoman franchise. Granted, Tanwarin's Catwoman in the ghostly romantic comedy Threesome (เธอ เขา เรา ผี, Ther Khao Rao Phee) is just a slutty actress in skin-tight feline gear, meowing and rubbing up  against her male co-star, but the short scenes are infinitely more entertaining than that supervillain bomb that starred Halle Berry.

I only mention that to illustrate how films with average-sounding plots can actually turn out great in the hands of a talented director. And that's the case with Threesome, which is about a young woman who breaks up with her boyfriend and takes up with another guy who turns out to be a ghost.

In any other hands, such a premise might turn out dull or belaboured. But writer-director Tanwarin, following up the critically acclaimed drama It Gets Better, takes Threesome to a conclusion that's refreshingly logical and straightforward but also entertainingly funny. Support from a strong cast and easy-on-the-eye camera work puts the film in the top tier of Thai productions so far this year.

Arpa Pawilai is appealingly cast as Som, an ordinary young woman who works as a movie make-up artist. Her longtime live-in boyfriend Rang (Chaiyapol Julien Poupart) is also in the business. But the handsome musclebound prop guy – always wearing tight, biceps-baring vest T-shirts – captures many adoring eyes, like that slutty actress, but also his straight-acting gay boss (Akarin Akaranithimethara) and just about anyone else with a pulse. Som has about had it with Rang being distracted by all the flirting. She's finally pushed to the brink when she arrives home to find him drunk and passed out in bed after being taken advantage of by the predatory Catwoman. She kicks Rang out and then goes to her apartment rooftop, which is of course the first place any heartbroken young woman should go. She stands at the precipice only to be held back at the last instant by a neighbor guy named Ple who's been hanging creepily around (Steven Fuhrer).

Something's not right about Ple, but Som doesn't notice anything amiss. "He always brings me food. I think his parents are rich," she tells a friend. Not even the fact that the food is an oddball conglomeration of items that might be offered to monks or at a spirit house raises Som's suspicions. Nor does it seem to matter that Ple's room next door hasn't been occupied in years.

However, Rang, heartbroken is wise to Ple and looks for ways to expose him while also trying to win back Som. Secretly, he enlists the assistance of the local Buddhist temple's abbot as well as Som's colorful friends and co-workers from the hair salon she's gone to work for. They mention the legend of the ghost wife Mae Nak of Phra Khanong, saying Som is just like the Nak's husband Mak, who has no clue is wife is dead.

Along with the trio of two leading men and one woman, the cast is livened up by a few familiar faces. Among them is Dear Dakanda director Komgrit Triwimol as the director on the film set. He hilariously seems all too eager to demonstrate how Catwoman should lick her man's face.

Love of Siam star Witwisit Hiranyawongkul turns up as one of Som's friends, part of a trio of neighbors who aid Rang in recapturing Som's heart.

In fact, nearly every stripe of the queer rainbow is represented, among them a transgender make-up artist who has been through the wringer, teen-idol actors who are actually gay and a hair-dresser male couple who fluidly switch roles as husband and wife.

Threesome is campy without going over the top. The queer characters are actually the most-grounded and real of the bunch. There's a a warmth to the portrayals of gay folk that's absent from most other Thai films, which tend to be mean and exaggerated when it comes to gay and transgender people.

(Cross-published in The Nation)