
On the 29th of May 1973, exactly 52 years ago to the date, P. Ramlee, would depart the earthly plane. The ever-talented auteur and wunderkind of Malaysian cinema not only shaped how storytelling and moviemaking were approached, but he also changed the ways in which we viewed the actors in our local film scene. Though not much has changed over the last five decades, where changes are slow and almost seem unmoving, P. Ramlee’s legacy has gifted us all with transparency, a motivating tool that has-in one way or the other, saved our film industry.




Through his life and death, Malaysians at large have been made aware of the local film industry’s practices, and in that regard, we have learned more about the filmmaking and acting business than we can care to admit. Tan Sri P. Ramlee’s posthumous legacy is fervently celebrated by Malaysians and the acting community. For not only did he make films accessible to the everyday folk, the auteur also made it relatable, offering up ideas of scripts that depicted the lives of Old Malaya.
But the adage of P. Ramlee’s time in the Golden Age of Malaysian cinema comes with a foreboding warning, a cautionary tale of the reality faced by creatives of all kinds in Malaysia. As the story goes, the great P. Ramlee died a pauper and was deeply shunned by the Malaysian media, and in turn, the general public. Unable to secure roles in films or even to bring life to his creative ideas onto the silver screen, P. Ramlee faced the painful reality that comes with wanting to be independent, reaping the hard fruits of its cost while alive.


P. Ramlee died a poor man; so poor that his funeral costs couldn’t be taken care of by his wife, Saloma. His death, however, would have a transformative effect on his career, like the many artists who came and left before him. Fifty-two years later, when P. Ramlee’s retrospective contributions to Malaysian cinema became lauded and heralded, director Megat Sharizal brought forth an idea guised as a love letter to his adored filmmaker.
After an arduous ten-year-long journey that he endured to see his vision brought to life, Megat realised an homage to P. Ramlee with Mencari Ramlee. In its infancy, the idea was to pay homage to his favourite director. A simple one to make, a movie that would detail the life and death of the renowned talent. “I grew up with my grandparents, and they had an extensive collection of P. Ramlee’s films at home, and I watched them all. That was my introduction to his craft.” Then, Megat got to thinking: “What if I did something else instead?” And something different, he did. Mencari Ramlee begins a day after the passing of P. Ramlee and follows the life of Zakaria, a P. Ramlee impersonator played by Tony Eusoff.

With money troubles and the inability to secure a proper work situation looming over him, a matter of fact issue at the time for a P. Ramlee impersonator, because the actor’s fame was declining, Zakaria ends up borrowing money from a local gangster, Yusuf, to support himself and his sister Yasmin. This is when he meets Zaiton, played by our November 2024 cover star Sofia Jane, a lucid character stuck in a dreamlike state and ends up believing that Zakaria is the real deal, the real P. Ramlee. As the story unravels, audiences are greeted with homages to P. Ramlee’s past films, a culmination of his best work on the silver screen, recreated as a “retelling” of sorts for Mencari Ramlee.
Whilst the crux of the story remains in paying homage to the auteur’s work, Mencari Ramlee questions the cost of freedom and the conviction of self. Megat Sharizal’s perseverance in seeing this movie through mirrors P. Ramlee’s persistence in wanting to bring his creative vision and dreams to life. The price of independence [it is worth noting that this movie was independently funded and saw itself to completion with the help of the cast and crew] came at a price. The inability to see an idea through at the time of its conception can feel like a painful struggle, a slap in the face to someone who has poured their time and effort into something, while others seem to receive bountiful blessings around us with ease. But it is in this perseverance and grit to see plans through—especially creative ones—that gives the work we do meaning. The discomfort that comes with striving for what you believe in, while unnerving, is ultimately worth it, even if we are unable to experience the fruits of our labour in this lifetime.
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