An empathetic look at a young Lampung artist torn between viral fame and heritage
I'm Davin Henry Susanto, a student from SMA Pradita Dirgantara, and this article is the final result of my reflection and analysis of the short film titled "Kaset Pita" as required for my Civics assignment.
The short film Kaset Pita opens a window into a common struggle for today's youth: chasing internet virality while losing sight of deeper values. We see a teenager constantly bombarded by flashy online temptations like "Pinjaman Online" (online loan) apps, sensational news headlines about a "youth identity crisis," and frantic clicks on his laptop. These things are promising quick fame but leaving him empty. Such scenes mirror real-life complaints that technology often distracts Indonesian teens from meaningful activities. As one Kompasiana columnist observes, in the digital era many young people "more often use technology for games or entertainment... rather than increasing their literacy." In other words, screen-based thrill can easily drown out the patient work of learning and creating. Kaset Pita uses these images to show how algorithm-driven clickbait and prank culture lure Damar away from himself. He initially neglects the old cassette recorder and Lampung serdam flute (symbols of his cultural roots) in favor of viral video stunts.
As the film suggests, this flood of online noise creates a crisis of identity. Damar scrolls through videos and reads sensationalized media, but finds no real purpose. This resonates with official concerns in Indonesia: the National Education System Law (UU Sisdiknas) insists education should cultivate students' "spiritual strength... personality, intelligence, noble character, and skills needed by society and the nation." Yet Kaset Pita dramatizes how those lofty goals slip from view when youth are lured by superficial trends. The film's opening montage (earning millions of clicks) is contrasted by a quiet shot of Damar reading a book alone in a park, hinting that he craves something more substantial than online applause.
Rediscovering Heritage Through Music and Family
At the heart of Kaset Pita is how Damar finally finds himself again through his Lampung heritage. A pivotal scene shows him holding the serdam, the traditional bamboo flute his late father once played. As sunset bathes him by a riverbank, he livestreams his flute performance, blending tradition with technology. The result is astonishing: his follower count soars into the hundreds of thousands. But more importantly, Damar's face lights up not from likes but from genuine passion. This shift echoes Indonesia's own educational vision: students should become "creative, intelligent, accomplished, and well-characterized through appreciation and mastery of the nation's arts and culture." In the film, Damar's mastery of the serdam (and his authentic smile) suggests he is fulfilling that vision, finding creativity rooted in national heritage rather than chasing empty fame.
Kaset Pita also uses the presence of Damar's father to deepen this message. In a warm flashback, Damar (young and eager) listens as his father plays the serdam alongside a friend. This tender moment reminds him (and us) where his talent originated. The film underlines that cultural identity passes between generations: even after his father's death, Damar carries on the music. At one point, he discovers an old cassette tape with his father's voice and a handwritten note. The note reads (in essence) that "the value of art and culture is a treasure that gives us identity and meaning in life... Dad will always be proud of you." This powerful message (of art as identity) reflects the idea behind national programs like Indonesia's FLS2N arts festival. Officially, FLS2N exists to "foster a love of art... to inspire students to preserve Indonesian arts and protect the nation's cultural wealth." Kaset Pita embodies that ethos. Damar's journey reminds viewers that true creativity shines when it honors local wisdom.
Real Challenges for Young Creators Today
Kaset Pita doesn't shy away from the real-world pressures modern creators face. Damar endures burnout, envy, and even temptation to take quick money (there's a scene hinting at online loan scams). His exhaustion is real: he grows distant from friends and family, fixated on likes. This mirrors reports that Indonesian youth are increasingly grappling with anxiety, stress, and self-doubt. In recent years young people have started openly discussing depression and stress, embracing "healing" trends like taking breaks and self-care to cope. The film reflects this need: when Damar finally collapses from pressure, his rediscovery of music becomes a kind of healing.
Social media also offers a false sense of connection. In one montage, two musicians appear side-by-side online, an Indonesian flutist and a Japanese violinist each vying for clicks (with 3.2M vs. 560K likes). This playful collage shows how content can be commodified globally, leaving the creator torn between identities. Will he follow foreign trends or stay true to home? The image of a suitcase being opened (top-right of [3]) filled not with flashy gadgets but with his serdam and the cassette tape suggests the answer: he literally carries his heritage along on his journey. Yet the film also points to a harsh reality: even when Damar plays from the heart, he must contend with an algorithmic system that prizes novelty over depth.
These pressures (viral validation on one side, and the weight of cultural expectation on the other) take a toll. In everyday Indonesian life, many students feel similarly divided. The lure of instant popularity can overshadow schoolwork, family ties, and self-esteem. Too many young creators find themselves anxious and burned out; chasing likes leaves them feeling hollow. Studies show that without balance, teens can end up using technology "more often for entertainment and fun... rather than increasing [their] literacy." In other words, endless feeds and challenges risk making youth passive consumers instead of curious learners. The film's critical view urges us to question that rat race.
Education, Culture, and Youth Initiatives
The story of Kaset Pita resonates with ongoing efforts in Indonesia to reconnect education with culture. National laws and programs explicitly aim to bridge this gap. For example, Indonesia's 2003 Education Act (UU Sisdiknas) promises learning that develops moral character and cultural knowledge. In practice, however, students often have few opportunities to engage deeply with local arts. That's why events like the Festival and Competition of Student Arts (FLS2N) are so important. The FLS2N guidelines state that the festival's goal is "to develop students' artistic spirit... fostering a love of Indonesian arts so they are inspired to preserve Indonesian art and protect the nation's cultural wealth." Likewise, the education ministry's vision for school arts emphasizes local wisdom, encouraging youth to "explore local wisdom and create globally resonant art." These policies mirror Kaset Pita's message: youth can be globally connected yet culturally grounded.
Integrating cultural literacy in schools is also a national priority. The Ministry of Education runs a "National Literacy Movement" (Gerakan Literasi Nasional) to make reading, critical thinking, and cultural knowledge part of daily learning. These efforts recognize that preserving heritage isn't just about passing tests, it's about forming identity. When students learn history, traditional music, or local languages in class, they are learning the same values Damar rediscovers through his music. If students can proudly showcase their region's art (for example in FLS2N competitions or school performances) they may feel empowered rather than alienated by their roots.
Ultimately, Kaset Pita suggests that personal creativity and national culture need not be enemies. The Cultural Advancement Act of 2017 even declares people themselves "the owners and drivers" of Indonesia's cultural diversity (so heritage evolves with us, not locked in a museum). In other words, Indonesian policy encourages students to innovate with their traditions. By blending modern media tools with the serdam, Damar exemplifies this approach.
If I Were the Protagonist -- A Self Reflection
Diversify my content. Instead of only chasing the next viral trend, I'd create different kinds of videos: sometimes fun pranks or reviews, but also tutorials on playing the serdam or stories about Lampung culture. For instance, I could collaborate with other young artists on cultural mashups (the film's duet with a Japanese violinist was inspiring!). This way, if one format gets tiring, another might feel fresh. It also builds more followers who appreciate the real me.
Stay grounded in values. I would keep a list of positive goals: "share Lampung music," "make viewers smile," or "learn something new each week." Each time a debt collector or clickbait temptation appears (as in the film), I'd remember that true achievement is making art I'm proud of. I'd also celebrate small wins, even a single viewer's heartfelt comment matters more than a faceless like.
Seek guidance and community. Joining school programs or competitions (like FLS2N) could connect me with mentors and peers who respect culture. Teachers or local artists might give advice. And if I ever feel overwhelmed, I'd look into the "healing" trend I read about: maybe try yoga, journaling, or just unplugging for a weekend, as many youth do to deal with anxiety.
By balancing creativity with care, I'd aim to be a happier creator. As someone from SMA Pradita Dirgantara, I know we have discipline and values in our school culture. So, I would draw on that to remind me of what's important. In the end, I'd want to produce content that not only entertains, but also teaches something valuable about our heritage.
Conclusion: Be Creative, Be Authentic, Be Proud
Kaset Pita leaves us with a powerful message: we can (and should) pursue our passions without abandoning who we are. Damar's final performance, with the cassette tape playing and his father smiling beside him, shows that authenticity wins out. It's a reminder that "the younger generation... are the guardians of our future," as one UNESCO event noted, and through our creativity we can actually "enhance [cultural heritage's] value and resilience for future generations".
For young Indonesian creators, the challenge is clear: use your talents to bridge past and present. Mix modern techniques with traditional wisdom. Tell stories that make people feel pride in our rich culture. The algorithms may change, but true fulfillment comes from art that reflects your heart and history. Kaset Pita encourages us all to start that journey today. What story will you tell with your creativity? Share your thoughts and ideas below, let's inspire one another to create with authenticity and pride!
References: The analysis above draws on the Kaset Pita film and Indonesian education/culture sources, such as the National Education Act (academia.edu), literacy and arts program reports (kompasiana.com), (pusatprestasinasional.kemdikbud.go.id), and (pusatprestasinasional.kemdikbud.go.id), and recent discussions on youth well-being (archipelagotimes.com) and (unesco.org). These inform the reflection on how young Indonesians can innovate while honoring their heritage.
Follow Instagram @kompasianacom juga Tiktok @kompasiana biar nggak ketinggalan event seru komunitas dan tips dapat cuan dari Kompasiana. Baca juga cerita inspiratif langsung dari smartphone kamu dengan bergabung di WhatsApp Channel Kompasiana di SINI
