This review may contain spoilers
“A Heart Torn and Lifted: The Paradise of Thrones”
I don’t think I’ll ever forget The Paradise of Thrones. Watching it felt like being pulled into a storm where every moment carried a new shade of emotion—joy, longing, heartbreak, grief, regret, love. I went in because I was already watching Keng’s new drama Kemjira and his performance as Master Phran left me in awe. I thought… why not see his debut, his very first movie with Jeff Satur? But I never expected this. I never expected a single film to tear me apart and yet make me feel so alive inside.— Jingna (Keng)… my heart aches just writing his name. The purity of his soul, the way he never wanted anything for himself, and how he said “I didn’t know what to ask, so I asked for your wish to be true”—it destroyed me. That was his entire essence. Selfless, giving, quietly surviving, living only for others’ happiness. His longing eyes, the uncertainty, the quiet strength hidden under fragility—it was all there in Keng’s performance. And in the end, that look in his eyes when the knife slashed across his throat… that panic, that desperation, that unfinished wish—I can’t get it out of my mind. He never asked for anything, and yet he was taken so brutally. Keng carried that role with such raw humanity it hurts to think about it. All I can do is pray—pray that Keng will always be happy, healthy, and surrounded by love forever. He deserves nothing less.
— Thong (Jeff)… his journey was one of aching doubt. All throughout, he believed Sek’s love belonged to Engfa. That quiet pain of loving someone he thought didn’t love him back—it seeped through every expression, every hesitation. And then at the end, when Engfa confessed “he never loved me, he loved you”—I broke down. Imagine carrying that uncertainty for so long, only to discover too late that love had always been yours. That moment was both cruel and healing—it was like being given water after dying of thirst, but only when you no longer have the strength to drink.
— Sek and his mother… goodness, the tragedy of their bond. The scene with the wedding ring—how it was taken from his finger after death, given back to his mother, when in truth it belonged to him and Thong—was one of the most painful moments of the film. And Sek’s mother’s arc with Mo (Engfa) was just as heartbreaking—her cruelty, Mo’s desperate longing for belonging, and then the tragic irony when she finally signed the deed and called for her daughter, but her voice couldn’t reach anymore. Her whispers of "Mo, help me” while Engfa sat on the bed still linger like an echo.
Every character embodied a different shade of love, loss, survival, and tragedy. Sek—the love that couldn’t stay. Thong—the doubt that was never meant to be. Engfa—the longing that turned into desperation. Sek’s mother—the cruelty that turned to regret too late. And Jingna—the selfless soul who asked for nothing and lost everything.
This movie is not just a film. It’s a scar, a prayer, a truth about humanity. It crushed me, it shook me, it made me cry until my chest hurt—and yet I am grateful I watched it. Because it showed me the rawest sides of love and loss.
Keng, Jeff, every cast member—you gave us something unforgettable. But Keng as Jingna… he gave a performance that will stay etched in me forever. I pray with all my heart that he will always be happy and healthy, always loved, always shining. Because he gave us a piece of his soul—and it changed me.
“May Keng and every cast member always be blessed with happiness, health, and love—for they gave us a story that will never leave our hearts.”
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