Dea Panendra

Dea Panendra? Oh, she’s got this vibe that just sticks with you. If you’ve caught Marlina the Murderer in Four Acts, you’ll remember her, for sure. That film—gritty, sun-bleached, tense as hell—showed off her knack for sinking into a character that feels like someone you might pass on the street, but wouldn’t dare mess with. She’s not one of those actors who vanishes in the background, either. She’s got this presence—sort of quiet, but magnetic. You know the type. Then there’s Bebas, which is a whole different flavor. It’s not as harsh, more nostalgic, a coming-of-age flick with a soft spot for friendship and messy life stuff. Dea slots right in, balancing warmth and rawness. It’s like she pulls off being your best friend and the person you secretly admire, all at once. But man, The Photocopier? That’s where she really hits something special. It’s a slice of modern Indonesia—tech, scandal, all the anxiety that comes with being young and trying to figure out who you are when everything seems stacked against you. Dea slips into those shoes, all vulnerability one minute, fire the next. You won’t forget her, not after that. Honestly, she’s one of those actors you keep an eye on. Not loud, not showy, but damn if she doesn’t leave an impression. You’ll be scrolling through the credits and go, “Wait, that was her?”—and then start digging through her filmography just to see what else she’s done. It’s that kind of energy.