Rise: Ini Kalilah

Six interwoven stories unfold against the tense backdrop of Malaysia’s 2018 general election, weaving personal choice, political pressure, and the fight for a fair vote into one panoramic drama. June, a steady fixer, teams up with Marcus Mark O’Dea to document the election from the front lines, chasing instances of vandalised opposition posters and suspected vote tampering while lingering questions about who benefits from the chaos. Their journalism becomes a throughline that connects a country watching every move with a wary eye on the integrity of the process.

At the same time, Fizah Yana Samsudin is a Malay university student studying in the United Kingdom who works part-time as a restaurant waiter. Her life takes a sharper turn when a campaign appearance puts her in the public eye, and a classmate persuades her to return to Malaysia to cast her ballot. This return anchors one thread of the film’s exploration of agency and belonging, especially as the clock ticks toward vote day. Azman [Azman Hassan], a police corporal, embodies another thread: a man worn thin by a system riddled with corruption. While some colleagues take bribes from politicians and businessmen, Azman struggles to balance his own moral compass with the demands of feeding his family, offering a quiet counterpoint to the louder political maneuvers around him.

Shanti [Sangeeta Krishnasamy], a Tamil primary school teacher who also serves as a polling and counting agent, navigates pressures at home and at work. She clashes with her father, a principal who resists change, while her personal life grows more complex through a romance with Leong—an impulsive, hot-tempered hawker stall worker who leaves Singapore to return to Malaysia in order to vote. This arc highlights the cross-border stakes of the election and the emotional costs of political participation. Across town, Selva—owner of a foreign worker agency—witnesses the plight and exploitation of Bangladeshi migrant workers, adding a broader social lens to the story and reminding viewers that the election touches people from all walks of life.

Into the mosaic also enters the street-level energy of Sasha [Sweet Qismina], and the everyday realities faced by voters like Latha [Pushpa Nara], each thread adding texture to the film’s portrait of democracy in motion. A fleeting image appears of a man in a flying car, a surreal vignette that punctuates the day’s intense pace and the city’s uneasy blend of progress and unpredictability, guided in part by the presence of Jalaluddin Hassan as the Man in the Flying Car.

As the sun moves toward May 9, the six storylines converge in a single, charged moment. Shanti uncovers a troubling practice: election officials turning a blind eye to non-citizens posing as voters, exposing a flaw in the system that fuels distrust on all sides. Fizah arrives at the polling booth at 5pm, only to be told she cannot vote because the day’s voting window has closed. But she, along with Shanti and June, pushes back against the official stance, and the authorities ultimately allow Fizah and other voters to cast their ballots, underscoring a fragile victory for those seeking a fair process.

The day’s climax arrives when someone attempts to flee with stolen ballot boxes in a car, triggering a tense confrontation with the protagonists in a scuffle with the driver. Azman’s response stands out: his colleague reaches for brute force, but Azman steps in to restrain the actions, choosing restraint and the voice of the people over escalation. The event crystallizes the film’s central tension: the push and pull between corruption, coercion, and the enduring impulse to vote with conscience.

In the aftermath, the film closes with stock footage from the 2018 Malaysian election and Mahathir Mohamad addressing the nation, a stark reminder of the real-world stakes at stake. June and Marcus continue to document the moment, including Mahathir’s historic meeting with the Yang di-Pertuan Agong Nazri Shah at Istana Negara, a scene that anchors the movie’s exploration of leadership, legitimacy, and national memory.

Throughout its narrative, the film treats its multi-voice structure with a calm, observational tone while probing how ordinary people—teachers, workers, students, police officers, and family members—negotiate truth, power, and the right to contribute to the country’s future. The result is a sprawling, character-driven portrait of a nation grappling with democracy under pressure, where individual choices ripple outward to shape a collective outcome.

Last Updated: October 01, 2025 at 13:05