“Sara”, the current Malay film to thrill us, has a typically crowded poster that is determined to burn as many movie-star faces onto our retina and then, it is hoped, connect to the part of the brain that determines how we spend our money in the multiplexes. Ida Nerina! Shamsul Ghau Ghau! Zahim Albakri!

The tagline, however, is atypical. Taglines are, of course, those promotional phrases that help entice us into watching something. I don’t suppose it’s ever been the sole determinant of a movie’s success, but many taglines from cinema history have stayed with us and been referenced and spoofed ad nauseam. Classics of this art-form include Jaws 2 (“Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water”) and the first Alien (“In space, no one can hear you scream.”).

Some films have more than one tagline. The American poster for “Boggie Nights”, a sweet movie about the travails of a well-endowed porn star named Dirk Diggler, was rather lame: “The life of a dreamer, the days of a business, and the nights in between.” There’s a sense of prevarication, a curious refusal to be snappy. (And like the movie itself, it goes on a bit too long). The British version fixed all that by zeroing in on Dirk’s gift: “Everybody has one special thing.”

But enough about foreign movies; they can take care of themselves and it’s our own we should be especially concerned about. Luckily, I now have enough local taglines to choose from because I just got my paws on a Finas-published book called “Filem Malaysia (1975-1999)”. Each film released in this period (starting in 1975 because that was when Bumiputera entrepreneurs started in the business) get a page for a synopsis, main credits, still photo and, in some instances, a poster.

There are only a few extant posters because many of our films and data associated with them are not well-preserved. According to Finas, there are some films made as recently as the 1980s with no surviving prints. These were mainly the works by dubious fly-by-night producers intent on only making cheap quickies rather than contributing to the historical record. You can almost feel our cultural legacy slipping away from us; each time a movie with Shah Rezza or Raja Nor Baizura disappears, we are all the poorer for it, although we may not fully appreciate the fact now.

Although it’s a pity that not many posters survived, the ones that are still with us are useful socio-cultural indicators. “Detik 12 Malam” (1979) was touted as “The first suspense thriller film!” and this shows that even before the Mahathir era (1981-?), local producers were fond of setting records for the biggest, longest and first. Another example is “Sumber Ilhamku” (1979), which we are assured was “The most supreme musical drama of all time!”

Many of the taglines pile on the bombast and, if there’s any space, add in a little hyperble and exclamation point. Thus “Harry Boy” (1992) is “A teenage love story that’s sophisticated and terrific!” The action movie about the possibility of our timber industry being destroyed by jealous foreigners, “Ops Belantara” (1993) boasts “The greatness of the latest sensational action film!” And Yusof Haslam’s “Maria Mariana” (1996) takes the cake with “Conflict! Vengeance! Love and tears! Awesome! Superb! Sensational!” For managing to cram six exclamation points into one poster and other services to humanity, Yusof was recently awarded a Datukship.

One of the most titillating ways to sell a work of fiction is to persuade people that it’s torn from the headlines or at least someone’s sworn affidavit. The gruesome thriller “Mangsa” (1981) was “An eerie true story.” The contemporary family melodrama “May 13” (1984) was “A historical moment to be remembered and learned from”, audaciously fooling punters into thinking the plot has something to do with the 1969 race riots. The thriller “Lenjan” (1998) tries to have it both ways with “A true story about a serial rapist and killer … ?” with the question mark probably functioning as an escape clause for legal reasons. Yusof Haslam again wins the game when his smash “Sembilu” (1994) was tagged as being “Based on Awie’s love-life.”

Which are my favourites? I like the simplicity of “Amok” (1995). This is a story whose climax is practically given away by the title, so the tagline was appreciated: “When he stops being himself …” (The original Malay sounds better: “Apabila dia bukan dia lagi …”) Even simpler, and more sobering, is “Mekanik” (1983), one of the few local movies with a multi-racial cast: “A Malaysian film.”

Which is the worst? Well, Jamil Sulong has had one of the longest careers in the business; he started in the 1950s and has made movies in many different genres and styles; his published memoirs are an entertaining look at the evolution of the Malay film industry; he’s probably a really nice guy to boot. Then why oh why did he permit his latest film, “Raja Melewar” (1998) to be promoted with the line “A historical story that’s guaranteed to give satisfaction to audiences in this era”? When I saw the movie in the Central Square Cineplex I remember being embarrassed to go into the hall that had this worthy poster in front of it. Other people stayed away in droves.

Back to the present. This is how the tagline of “Sara” reads: “See Shamsul Ghau Ghau in his first strong, silent role.”

Shamsul, for those not in the know, is a comedian with the slapstick Sinaran troupe. The marketing people for this Astro-made film obviously thought the strategy had been dumped right into their laps. Shamsul being serious would be a crowd-puller, like the way MGM promoted “Anna Christie” (1930), starring a hitherto silent Swede: “Garbo talks!” Whether Shamsulesque gravitas can equal Garboesque loquaciousness is something that we have to see – the grosses are not in yet.