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India wins 2 years in a row at the SGIFF Silver Screen Awards with 'The Fourth Direction'

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Producer of winning film 'The Fourth Direction'. Kartikeya Singh, receives the prize from Brilliante Mendoza and Ivy Ho

The 26th Singapore International Film Festival (SGIFF) announced its winners of the Silver Screen Awards at The MasterCard Theatres at Marina Bay Sands yesterday.

This year saw 12 awards being presented, with the two crowd-favourite competitions – Asian Feature Film Competition and the Southeast Asian Short Film Competition being presented nine awards altogether.
'The Fourth Direction'

Indian film 'The Fourth Direction', the sophomore feature by Gurvinder Singh emerged as the Best Film of the Asian Feature Film Competition. Set during the historical conflict between Sikh separatists and the military, the film impressed the jury with its ‘masterful execution’ which makes the audience ‘experience the fear and tension of the era and how the political situation is influencing the life of this family.’ This is India's second win at the Silver Screen Awards Asian Feature Film competition after 'Court' last year.

Israeli film 'Tikkun' by Avishai Sivan was given Special Mention by the jury for the director’s ability to ‘guide us seamlessly through the complexities of the character’s spiritual journey’ as it discusses the nature of sexuality, life and death.

Japanese director Ryusuke Hamaguchi won the Best Director for 'Happy Hour', his first fiction film in three years, which offers an intimate gaze into a close group of friends as they pass through the joys and tribulations that mid-life offers to them.
'Happy Hour'

Turkish cast Taha Tegin Özdemir, Yakup Özgür Kurtaal and Ömer Uluç were also awarded Best Performance for their roles in Snow Pirates by Faruk Kacihafizoğlu. Set against the 1980 coup d’état in Turkey, the film tells the story of three teenage friends who spent their school holidays trying to find coal for warmth against all odds amidst sharing their personal stories and dreams.

The award winners of the Asian Feature Film Competition are selected by a jury panel, headed by Brilliante Mendoza, one of the most important and prominent filmmakers of Philippines cinema today. His award-winning debut film which won the Golden Leopard Award at the 2005 Locarno International Film Festival in Switzerland, paved the way for the rise of alternative cinema in the Philippines. Other jury members include Managing Director and Producer of Irresistible Films Ivy Ho, member of the European Film Academy Karel Och and South Korean producer, Oh Jung-wan.

The Fourth Direction will be re-screened at the National Museum of Singapore today, the last day of the SGIFF, together with the winning film of the Audience Choice Award, Burmese film 'Sailing on a sinking sea'.

In the Southeast Asian Short Film Competition, 'The Fox Exploits the Tiger’s Might' was awarded Best Southeast Asian Short Film. The Indonesian film presented the story of two pre-teen boys who discover the relation between power and sex amid their burgeoning sexuality and the jury found it thought-provoking on issues of race and repression, with its ‘strong visual language and a deft use of sexual tension’.

The film also won Best Director for Lucky Kuswandi (above), one of Indonesia’s most exciting young directors. The jury was impressed by his ‘strong direction’ which was evident in the cast’s performance, and his success in introducing the audience to the many eclectic characters while ‘telling a story that is layered, provocative and entertaining at the same time.’

Singaporean filmmaker Gladys Ng (below) also won the Best Singapore Short Film for My Father After Dinner, which shares the nuances of Asian familial love through the story of a father who prepares dinner while waiting for his children to return home. The jury liked Ng’s acutely observant and fresh take on the everyday life and saw the short film as an ‘honest and heart-warming portrait of a slice of life in Singapore’.
Thai film Ferris Wheel by Phuttiphong Aroonpeng was given Special Mention by the jury for how this powerful and urgent story about a mother and child seeking refuge across the border ‘inspires empathy for the experiences of illegal migrants through the point of view of the characters’.

The jury head for this year’s Southeast Asian Short Film Competition is Boo Junfeng. He is a well-known local filmmaker who first made his mark on SGIFF when he won Best Film and Special Achievement Award for his debut short film – A Family Portrait 10 years ago. Other jury members include Malaysian actress and filmmaker Sharifah Amani, and Chairman of the Association of Indonesian Film Producers, Sheila Timothy.  

The jury also shared that all the films shortlisted for this year’s Southeast Asian Short Film Competition ‘had something the filmmakers wanted to say about the cultures, societies and the world they live in. The diversity of the perspectives and genres makes the selection this year a very interesting one.’

Participants of the Youth Jury & Critics Programme, an SGIFF initiative to nurture critical cinema writers for the region, also selected this year’s Youth Jury Prize for the best Southeast Asian short film, which was presented to Cambodian film Three Wheels by Kavich Neang. It features a tuk-tuk driver, who was reminded of his former lover from the days before Khmer Rouge rule, and the last request from his wife before he acts to move out of the family home. The Youth Jury liked how the short film ‘silently weaves through the lives of its modest characters’ and gives a face to these characters and ‘draws us closer to them’.

In recognition of his lifelong dedication and contribution to cinema, acclaimed Iranian filmmaker Mohsen Makhmalbaf (above) received the Honorary Award from Kim Ji-Seok, founding member of Busan International Film Festival and SGIFF’s International Advisory Board member, and Yuni Hadi, Executive Director of SGIFF. Internationally acclaimed actress and producer Michelle Yeoh (below) was also conferred the Cinema Legend Award, which recognises Asian actors and their outstanding achievements in bringing Asia’s story to life on screen. 
The Most Promising Project of the Southeast Asian Film Lab, an SGIFF initiative to nurture the future of Southeast Asian filmmaking, was also awarded this evening to one of the region’s emerging filmmakers, He Shuming (below) from Singapore. His project A-Joom-Ma (Auntie) tells the story of a Korean drama-obsessed widow who learns to find her way home after getting lost on her first trip abroad in Seoul. This was awarded after a six-day story development lab attended by 11 young talents and a pitch in front of an industry jury including Terence Chang and Cora Yim, Vice President for Chinese Movie & Entertainment Channels at FOX International Channels. The jury shared that the project ‘strikes a chord across cultures through a relatable character that is crafted in a personal and very familiar manner’ and they hope this ‘will take the Southeast Asian experience beyond our shores’.
The Silver Screen Awards saw a total of 10 feature films and 20 short films, including four Singapore short films, vying for the awards. The glittering red carpet affair was also graced by Slumdog Millionaire star Dev Patel and saw a surprise appearance by international icon David Beckham, who co-presented the award for Asian Feature Film – Best Director with Marina Bay Sands President and Chief Executive Officer Mr. George Tanasijevich. 


@SGIFF2015: Review - Singapore Minstrel

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If you’re been in Singapore for the last 15 years, Roy Payamal is a figure you cannot miss. When busking was first legalised, he was the ubiquitous statue, painted in silver, baffling countless shoppers with his performance and his peace-themed placards. The mishmash, DIY style of his costumes and props always seemed to speak louder than him. In fact, he was never seen speaking and there is always this mystery around his identity and personality.
That mystery is broken in the film ‘Singapore Minstrel’. As if someone turned on the volume on his acts, Roy comes to life in stereo and he proves to be someone who does not mince his words. This is a film made by Roy's partner Ng Xi Jie, about him and the busking community. More than just an exposition on Roy’s life and the voices of other buskers, it is also a cinematic manifestation of a dialogue between Xi Jie and the busking community and also between the general Singapore public and busking. Xi Jie, apart from playing interviewer or bystander, reciprocates in the conversation with her subjects through reenactments, fantasy vignettes, visual references, song overlays, indirectly paying tribute to the buskers and the art of busking.

Roy, being the main subject of this whimsical documentary, anchors the film not only with his presence but with his point of view. While we are wiser from the ‘backstage tour’ of his gigs as a busker, following him from leaving his HDB flat to slapping on the white paste make up to the high points of his performance at Tampines MRT Station, we are also wiser from the stories of his cat and mouse game with the authorities and his struggles as a busker. In short, life is hard as a busker and his account about how the Orchard Road Shopping Association, together with EDB and STB, conspired to move him out of Orchard Road somehow bore a strong resonance in the film, for it epitomised the kind of ‘gentrification’ the authorities were applying to buskers. Roy, with his determined and somewhat stubborn voice, says it like it is, about the difficulties of being a busker in Singapore. It also leads to a kind of ‘us versus them’ point of view that inevitably colours what we understand about the other buskers. While the intensity of this point of view may be mainly Roy’s, for some of the other buskers seemed genuinely happy and in their element, it does frame the documentary in a way that it resembles a peaceful kind of protest, a call for a listening ear to what is really happening in the 'busking industry' in Singapore. 

In relation to this, some of the most iconic segments in the film were the scenes in which the buskers met the authorities either at the audition or the busker’s ‘training’ class. The segments draw a mixture of outrage and amusement. Outrage because the idea of having to pass auditions seems like an insult to the art of bonafide buskers, amusement because in true Singapore fashion of hyper-control, we witness Annie Pek, a trained theatre practitioner, who is hired by the authorities, trying to educate new buskers about the Ps and Qs of busking, which drew a few giggles from the audience. 

As angry as Roy sounds at times about his struggles, it is also evident the director is determined not to over-politicse the slant of the film. In fact, towards the end, Annie Pek demonstrates some middle-ground sensibilities in her comments on buskers, which made the good guys versus bad guys divide less apparent. Interjected throughout the film are also fantasy sequences which depict Roy immersed in mini performances, translating his usual street acts for the screen. These are essentially moments in which Roy, in collaboration with Xi Jie and Esmond (assistant director), is given a free canvas to paint his own world, and to claim something he's found difficult to claim in the real world. If one sees this film as Xi Jie's ode to her partner, then it must be one of the most romantic things anyone has done - creating a make-believe world for your other half, when the real world has failed to provide that turf.
 

To create this turf, Xi Jie, together with Esmond, go to immense lengths. The confines of a HDB bedroom is being transformed into fantasy studio with the same rag-and-bone items that Roy uses in his outdoor performance, but with greater flair and detail. The director, through giving Roy's acts the full-blown theatrical treatment, aims for total immersion, possibly bringing us closer to the hearts and psyche of buskers. Ultimately, more than just observing the busking world and being informed about their issues, 'Singapore Minstrel' is a study of the 'busker' mentality - the love of art, the yearning for appreciation, the aversion to structure, the pride, the courage, the tendency for subsistence and independence, the love for escapism and most importantly, the need to always stay true to oneself.
 
Review by Jeremy Sing

This review is part of the Singapore Panorama series from the Singapore International Film Festival 2015. Read more about the film here.
You can also find out more from the official film website here.

@SGIFF2015: Production Talk with Ng Xi Jie on 'Singapore Minstrel'

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Roy Payamal is the wildest busker of a country ranked the world’s most emotionless society. He takes his undermined line of work as a serious art- but is his faith impossible idealism or an admirable conviction? 'Singapore Minstrel', directed by Ng Xi Jie, screened at the recent Singapore International Film Festival, is an invitation into his beautiful mind, a magical, trying universe where art and life dialogue in a tropical dream. 
An old-time pioneer of the local busking scene, sometimes dubbed the ‘Silver Man’, Roy creates spectacular installations for his mind-boggling acts. His street colleagues are a troupe of offbeat, seasoned buskers– from a 70-year-old man who dances Gangnam Style with vitality, to a lovable guitarist trying to pass the busking auditions. The film flows kaleidoscopically from interviews to fantasy sequences, to raw footage of everyday life Roy captures on his mobile phone. 



Unraveling Roy's busking journey and the nation's bureaucratic reaches, the film spotlights a gang of eccentric underdogs, examining what culture means in a hard-fisted, glittering metropolis. 'Singapore Minstrel' is about trying to paint the meaning of freedom and magic. It is about being human. 

We speak to Xi Jie to trace this musical, lyrical journey into the world of Singapore buskers.
How did the idea for this film come about?
The journey to make this film began a few years ago when I started documenting my romantic partner Roy's shows in Orchard Road, believing the footage would be useful someday. He would sleep a few hours a night, then continue his work, often with new ideas-from dazzling to obsessively mundane. What he was doggedly creating felt startlingly important, yet happened quietly or so it seemed without proper documentation, though he was a revolution in the heartlands. And how many revolutions happen in Singapore everyday? There were also periods where he would get stuck and didn't work for days. I struggled to understand his complex modus operandi as a fascinating world unravelled through him. I got to know the ins and outs of busking, heard countless busking stories, learnt about local busking history, and became friends with an eccentric breed.

Xi Jie at the SGIFF 2015 post-screening Q and A.


Are you a busker as well?
No I'm not, but I certainly want to busk one day. To me, it's one of the most fascinating professions ever. It's a magical, ancient way of life.

What first ignited your interest in busking?
I've been intrigued by buskers since I was a child. There's something completely magical about a travelling performer, or someone who makes his/her money on the streets. I got to know more about the busking universe when I met Roy four years ago.

What were the biggest surprises for you in the busking scene and were these all depicted in the documentary?
I wasn't surprised by much but if I had to pick I'd say that it was really nice to realise that all the buskers we met were each very special individuals with their own eccentricities, and a unique view on busking. Hopefully the delightfully interesting and intriguing bits of them came through. Even though I knew Roy was a fixture in the busking scene, I was still pleasantly surprised that so many buskers held Roy in high regard. We were able to interview and film many of them because they trusted Roy.

The film depicts buskers being asked to go through auditions and a selection process. But apparently, this is not unique to Singapore as according to Xi Jie's research, other countries exercise these 'quality control' measures as well. She addresses this in a segment of the Q and A.



Is this the first time Roy has been featured in a film or any form of recorded content? 
No, he's been in countless documentary shorts over the last few decades. Almost every month, he has poly or university students requesting to film him and he usually obliges, seeing it as a good chance to get better at being interviewed. Many of these films are lost in the wind- most of them never get back to him. I wanted to make something completely unlike anything that had ever been made about him, almost like a semi-definitive film about Roy.
From the Q and A, Roy certainly had a lot to express in terms of his feelings as a busker in Singapore. How was it like working with Roy, being both your partner and your subject? Did you get into any disagreements and what were they?
Working with Roy was great; he was very open and had magical ideas we'd never think of. It was extremely generous of him to allow us to depict different sides of him in the film, even facades of himself he was uncomfortable with. I can't believe the number of times he watched the film over and over in the process; it isn't easy to see oneself on screen. Him being my lover meant I had almost complete access to his life. At times it was hard to decide what to include in the film and what not to, because life was unfolding every day and I knew all the details. 

The film was very personal in many ways. I had an archive of tunes and videos Roy would record on his iphone and send to me over the years. I love the tunes because they’re very whimsical, heartfelt and evidently come from someone who can’t sing well, but enjoys making up these little wonderful, strange ditties. The videos capture his view of the universe, which a lot of the time, was his corner in Ang Mo Kio. It’s a beautiful way of looking at Singapore, and his world.  In the film, the tunes and videos are combined to create raw, meditative montages. This came about because somewhere along the way, I had the revelation that a film about busking is necessarily also about everyday life, to find that intersection between art and life. And so I curated this personal archive cum treasure chest I had.


Our disagreements came mainly after the film was finished. Upon looking back, I realised there were some things I could've consulted him more on, such as costume choices. But there is nothing major we disagree on and he's been very proud and excited about this entire adventure.

Roy says it as it is at the Q and A, not afraid to discuss his struggles openly at the screening.


Any last words about the film or future plans?
Near the end of two years, after going though various iterations, the film eventually revealed itself as rooted in Roy and his universe, extending to a discourse in busking and culture. It is a letter to and about Roy, a way of understanding him and telling the world about him. As much as it is about the subject matter, it is also about developing a filmmaking approach where fantasy and reality dance with each other to illuminate little truths and make bigger magic. 'Singapore Minstrel' is an oxymoron that doesn't have to be non-existent. Beyond sending the film to local and overseas festivals, I hope to show it to more Singaporeans (especially the Tampines neighbourhood, since the film features some of the buskers) as a way of looking at freedom, magic, the crazy ones and ourselves.



Interview by Jeremy Sing


Read more about this movie on SGIFF website and www.singaporeminstrel.com 

Trailer for 'Singapore Minstel'

@SGIFF2015 - Review of Kalo Pothi (The Black Hen)

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The Story of Friendship away from the World as we know it

"Didi(sister), can we name the hen "Karishma" after the actress? And when Karishma will give eggs, we will sell it and pay for our school"- goes Prakash Nepali in the first few scenes.  The simple quip by a kid to his sister over food is something that connects the soul of this film. The underlying want to have a normal life, education, friendship and happiness is what drives the lead characters- Prakash and Kiran (played with aplomb by first time actors young Khadka Raj Nepali & Sukra Raj Rokaya).


Set in 2001 in the middle of civil war between Maoists and Government of Nepal is the story of these two friends who are trying ways and means to find their missing hen- which was supposed to pay for the education of Prakash. Simple as it seems, Director Min Bahadur Bham brings alive his own childhood in East Nepal drawing incidents and stories from his own life. Not only does that make the story extremely relatable at a human level but also allows the viewers an eye-opening experience of life in a small village.

Surrounded by Maoist propaganda, lime-coated walls, mud floors, religion, caste system, patriarchy, rituals & menial jobs; blossoms the bond between Prakash-son of the handyman and Kiran-grandson of the head of the village. They fight for their hen with an old man, travel miles on foot/pony, smoke cigarettes and fake deaths by smearing blood on their faces during  Maoist gunfire. Simplicity of their conversation has the audience in guffaws a lot of time. But what is most appealing is how Childhood does not differentiate people on their caste, religion, color of skin, economic position or situations. How Kiran-the upper caste, good looking boy almost hero worships and follows Prakash-the "untouchable" is heart warming. It makes one go back to our childhood where we didnt categorise people on their social status but by their simple skills of running fast or calculating 17 x 7 faster than us. It is in this world that the Director Min Bahadur Bham successfully takes us.
Add to this the sights and sounds of a Nepali village with women crushing spices with wooden mallets, procession for the groom's entry into the bride's village, majestic backdrop of mountains and meadows of Nepal- and you have a surreal experience.

Cinematography is to the point dropping pointers in its path, music- rustic and earthy. The editing could have been slightly sharper but the overall product is still inspiring. Also, screenplay could have been tighter at few places considering lot of moments create nostalgia within the film - without meaning to. A special mention to the complete cast-majority of them first time actors and known faces like Benisha Hamal for bringing out the authenticity. Full marks to the complete team to transform you from your plush seat in the theatre to the muddy lanes of Nepal and tell you the story of its people.  This one is a winner all the way!

"Kalo Pothi"-The Black Hen is produced by Shooney Films, Mila Productios, Tandem Production, CDP and Kaldhungi Films and has won the Best Film award at the Critics' Week of 30th Venice International Film Festival.

Review by Chanakya Vaidya

This review is part of the Asian Feature Film Competition series at the Singapore International Film Festival 2015. Read more about the film here.

@SGIFF2015 Interview for Voluptas

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Brief synopsis:

After her failed marriage, Ariati descends into a downward spiral. Her waning spirits however is lifted, when she meets Aaron, who seemingly appears to be the better version of her previous significant other. She also meets Suhaillah, a free spirit who echoes her search for spirituality. Will these new connections breathe new life into her, and lead her to her own closure?


After the release of Sanif Olek's Voluptas, Sindie caught up with the eminent director to find out more:



Here are some interview questions which we would like to seek your response on:

1. Why did you choose to title your film "Voluptas"?


The final titles in all of my films were usually conceptualized towards the end of the final script or while I was assembling the film in the editing room. For Voluptas, it was suggested by my co-writer, Hady A. Hamid. Voluptas is the name of a diety in Roman mythology who has similar characteristics to another famous diety, Aphrodite. The main protagonist in the film, played by Ariati Tyeb Papar, possesses similar character arc to Voluptas the diety. I felt it’s interesting and appropriate that Voluptas becomes the title to my second feature.

2. Voluptas strikes me as a film about inner turmoil and spiritual and personal revelations.

Being such an introspective film, where did you find inspiration to do this film, and was it a personal film for you?


I have always been interested in the study of the human condition and the raw emotions that drive someone to certain decisions. On top of that, one’s spiritual bearing also reveals the direction he will take to deal with his personal turmoil. As I get older and meet more people, I realize that one need not be religious or subscribing to a particular popular religion to be spiritual. An Atheist doesn’t believe in any gods yet can be spiritual. All ascribed religion has one thing in common – an acknowledgement to a central guiding faith to become good in the eyes of humanity. Some people use religion as a moral compass yet is misguided spiritually. Religion makes one contented at the same time drives others into Nazis of morality.

3, I see that the visual style of Voluptas is very minimalist, and very intimate. How did this fit in with the thematic thrust of the work?


In the beginning while I was conceptualizing Voluptas, I already have in mind that I want to make a minimalist film. I tried this sort of filmmaking process while making my 2nd short film, À La Folie (2008). I think it challenges me to go back to Basic Filmmaking 101, i.e., stripping bare the process to focus on the visual representation and performances of actors. The dialogue takes a back seat. Importantly, by utilizing these techniques, I want the audience to be more engaged in the storytelling. I recall during the first term of year one in film school, we were given a filmmaking exercise where we need to tell a story in 3 minutes utilizing just visuals. Coming from almost twenty years of mainstream, commercial television background, I would like to challenge myself by returning to the basic form of the visual storytelling process.

4. For this kind of story and cinematographic style, much of the focus must be on the actors. How did you bring out strong performances from your cast for this film? How did you unlock their emotions?


Many actors whom I’ve collaborated may remember how on set I will hate it for them to “act”. As a result, I like to work with actors whom I’ve known personally for some time. Their personality will somehow be trajected onto the screen. I look for naturalism in the performances. However this does not mean that I only work with one group of actors or only cast certain actors in leading roles. The casting also depends on the availability of the cast. I have also picked certain actors solely because I find it interesting to cast them against stereotype. Thus, in many of my films, much of what an outsider may consider as “strong” or naturalistic performances, the inside joke among the peers who may know the cast personally is that these actors are not really “acting”.

5. How different is the experience of working on Voluptas from working on Sayang Disayang?

Sayang Disayang and Voluptas are two different films, both stylistically and genre.

Sayang Disayang has a rather formalistic/traditional, linear approach in the filmmaking and narrative structure. There is a script. I worked with a film crew of up to 20 people daily for a period of about a month. The camera and lighting adopt a stylized mis-en-scene in the respective scenes. The genesis for Sayang Disayang was my desire to make a film that embodies the Nusantara, i.e. the Malay Archipelago in Southeast Asia. It celebrates the Nusantara "rumpun" or common heritage - elements that folks from this region can find commonality with, such as food, songs and the diverse cultural pathos.

Voluptas was filmed in 4 days. The actors did not have a script to refer to other than an idea of their respective character’s emotional journey and overall narrative arc. All of the performances and minimal dialogue were improvisations. This process is more challenging in a sense that my personal relationships with the actors are put to the test. It was a very intimate filming process because the camera is reacting to the actors and not otherwise. Nevertheless, I am very pleased that the cast in Voluptas, despite the “non-conventional” filmmaking process, performed beyond my expectations.

6. How have audiences responded to Voluptas? Which part of the film did they connect to?

I think many of the audience who attended the SGIFF 2015 world premiere screening of Voluptas were attracted primarily to the casting of A-listers, Ariati Tyeb Papar, Aaron Aziz and Suhaillah Salam. These three actors are very popular with audiences who are familiar with their commercial film blockbusters and mainstream television dramas. Nevertheless, the cast and I are pleased that Voluptas manages to showcase a different type of performances. From the audience feedback, I think they enjoy watching their favourite A-listers in roles against typecast.

7. What inspired you to embark on this film?

Some of films and filmmakers that inspired me to do Voluptas are incredible filmmakers such as the Dardenne brothers from Belgium who made the films, “L’Enfant” and recently “Two days, One Night”. The latter film incidentally was Belgium’s submission for the Oscars Best Foreign Language Film the same year that Sayang Disayang was submitted as Singapore’s entry to the Oscars in the same category. Voluptas is also inspired by Terrence Malick’s “Days of Heaven” and the poetic “The Tree of Life”.

8. Was it challenging to make this film?


Voluptas is challenging for both cast and myself. Being largely improvisational, the cast had to approach the process from a different perspective that the conventional process that they are familiar with in mainstream work. As far as I am concerned, the four days of filming was one of the most mentally exhausting process for me as I have to keep myself focus on the visual direction, the actors’ performances and on top of that, having to keep a clear mind on the storytelling.

Other pictures from the film:








Great job to the director and crew!

For more information:
www.facebook.com/voluptasfilm
https://youtu.be/Vi8a8WGfjM8

@SGIFF2015 Interview for "The Return"

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Brief Sypnosis:

Wen, a political detainee, is released after many years of imprisonment. Arrested for
being an alleged communist, he returns, an old man, to an uneasy reunion with his
children. Has his sacrifice come at too great a price?

Wen also wanders through the city to see how his homeland has transformed into a
shining metropolis. He is philosophical about his long detainment without trial and is
ready to move on. But as the past collides with the present, unforeseen
circumstances force his journey to take a tragic turn.

Director Green Zeng has kindly agreed to do an interview with Sindie for his film, The Return, that was screened at the SGIFF.

1. Your work covers the stories of political detainees in Singapore, something that has been covered in recent years by films such as "Singapore Rebel" and "To Singapore with Love", and they have been banned in Singapore. How concerned were you about censorship, and did you have to make any production decisions to navigate around potential hurdles?
2. Your film isn't structured as a documentary, but rather as a fictional portrayal of a detainee's return. Through it, you tell a human story that blends loss, change and beliefs through the perspective of a political detainee. Why did you choose to undertake the story from such an angle? Was it because so much work about political detainees have chosen to focus on the politics, while you felt that there was a familial and human angle that needs to be explored?

Besides filmmaking, I am also an artist and my current art practice examines historiography and how the history-making process has shaped our identity. Since 2007, my artworks have been exploring the topics of political detention, exiles, student activism and such history, which is before the films you have mentioned above. My visual art exhibitions from 2010-present have also dealt with similar topics.

In 2007, I made a short film “Sentosa” about a fictitious political detainee who returns to the island where he was exiled. When I make an artwork, my first thought is not about censorship but about what I want to express to my audience. I did not think about censorship when I made this film and focused on my story. When it was screened at SGIFF then, the film was rated NC16.

I was confident that “The Return” will have no problem with the censors as my approach towards the topic is different from the above films mentioned. First of all, my film is a fictional narrative and not a documentary. I am neither a historian nor a documentary filmmaker and I always believe my central role is always to interpret, invent and be creative. I was also attempting to create a fine balance between a poetic and thought provoking artwork. I am not interested in taking sides. I believe in Art, we try to present truths not facts.


3. How did you feel Singaporeans will respond to your work, especially across generations?

It is suitable for all generations. I believe the local audience has the ability to understand the film’s local nuances more than a foreign audience. However the local audience tend to be quite critical about local films and often have a preconceived idea of what a local film should be like.

Some films are watched by lots of people but are forgotten quickly and some are watched by few but make a mark in history or leave a lasting impression. I have no control over how many people or who will watch my film but I hope the film will stand the test of time and will be watched with an open mind.


4. Your film has traveled far and wide, being shown in places like Venice International Critics’ Week. How do international audiences react to it, and what part of the film do they react to? How does it differ from a local audience?

The film had its world premiere at the 30th Venice International Film Critics’ Week in September 2015 and I was pleasantly surprised to see a full house. The film was well received by the audience. I felt their excitement and that they really enjoyed watching the film as a lot of them stayed behind for the Q&A session.

The Critics’ week selection committee also told us it was an unanimous decision among them to select the film for the festival. They also told us they really liked the film’s premise and universal themes. They gave positive feedback on the direction, strong acting and visual treatment for the film. For example, they liked how I showed the protagonist grappling with the past and present by collapsing the idea of time as linear.


6. What inspired you to get started on this film?
7. The passage of time and the blitz of change are key themes in this movie. Growing up in Singapore, did you invest your own experiences into the film?

As mentioned earlier, all my artistic explorations for the last few years have culminated in this feature film. I have always wondered about the lives of ex-political detainees after their release and how they and their families have coped through the years. Thus I set about constructing a narrative inspired by these people. The film is also a homage to my father and those of his generation. Like the protagonist of the film, my father is Chinese-educated, interested in politics and the student activism of that period.


More scenes:





For more information:
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@SGIFF2015: FilmTalk on the Southeast Asian Short Film Nominees

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Lucky Kuswandi has become a good friend and a regular face at the Singapore International Film Festival of late. His first feature film 'In the Absence of the Sun' was the closing film of the 25th edition of the Singapore International Film Festival in 2014. He is back this year because his short film 'The Fox Exploits the Tiger's Might' was competing in the SGIFF Southeast Asian Short Film Competition. Eventually, he took home the 'Best Film' award. 

Indeed the festival is slowly finding its role as a stage for compelling talent like Lucky. This year's competition again offers audiences a window to the latest crop of talents from Southeast Asia. While countries like the Philippines, Thailand and Malaysia have thrust the region into international limelight with numerous acclaimed works, entries from emerging (or rather re-emerging) countries Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar are also starting to enrich the Southeast Asian film tapestry, as the competition has shown. 

A mixed platter of work like the entries in the Southeast Asian Short Film Competition necessitates discourse. So, three of SINdie's writers, Jeremy Sing, Ivan Choong and Clarabelle Gerard, got together to compare notes and dissect some of the films in this year's competition.

Read about the 20 entries in this year's competition here:
Southeast Asian Short Film Competition Programme 1
Southeast Asian Short Film Competition Programme 2
Southeast Asian Short Film Competition Programme 3
Southeast Asian Short Film Competition Programme 4

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Jeremy: The selection in this year’s SGIFF Asian Shorts is both diverse and yet similar in some ways, in my opinion. Sometimes, in between the lakes, the alleys, the ubiquitous sarongs, even some of the languages, the boundaries slip your notice. You forget which country you are in - which says a lot about the region we live in. (pause) What were some of your favourites in this selection?
Thread by Virginia Kennedy


Ivan: Hmmm.. The favourite that sticks in my mind even after a few days is Thread’’ by Virginia Kennedy. I found it unexpected and riveting. It brought back memories of old folk tales about how each person’s life is actually represented by threads in a room tended to by an old woman (I cannot quite remember if she is blind in the original folk tale) but certainly a person’s life is deemed to end when the old woman cuts your thread. I thought that the story was particularly strong, and performances of actors were subtle but effective.

Jeremy: Yes, the premise was bizarre. You are not sure if it was supernatural or some realist gaze at Asian superstitions at first, especially with that voice, because you are not sure if it’s her inner voice or some real outer force itself! I cringed when she stuck that needle into her leg!

Clarabelle: I didn't understand that film although I found it to be intriguing and largely open for interpretation.  

Jeremy: What cut it for you in that film Ivan (pardon the pun)?

Ivan: The unexpected combination of old familiar tales used effectively to tell a very modern story. It was like the seamstress had all these abilities but a person can only trade something (i.e. a cut of thread which to me signified giving up their original length of life) to sacrifice, to obtain something in return. Additionally, the way the film is structured, she is initially positioned as the weakest character – which in itself is a paradox – as a blind seamstress would require keen eyesight to feel and measure.

Jeremy: I do agree the script was quite well conceived, with its build up and sequence of revelations. Clarabelle, what was your favourite film?

Clarabelle: Although I appreciated the different ways in which each film was delivered, I had two favourites particularly- Ferris Wheel by by Phuttiphong Aroonpheng  and My Father After Dinner by Gladys Ng .

Jeremy: ‘Ferris Wheel’ is one of my favourites too. A masterfully orchestrated effort of cast, camera, editing and direction.
Ferris Wheel by Phuttiphong Aroonpheng


Ivan: Yup, I agree Ferris Wheel is good. It is metaphorical and very well thought out as well. I was captivated by how real the characters looked messy and covered with grime, which I find to be a trait that runs through several of the films. It was certainly able to capture very real feelings and emotions – from the fear and suspense of being a refugee to the everyday struggle of living in a country that one does not belong to. It is also a very tough subject for a film to tackle and am glad they did not shy away from doing it.


Jeremy: It's tackled a grim and complex issue in a rather balanced way. At moments, it is a point-blank observation of how cruel the world and fate is. At other times, it is a poetic gaze at life’s ups and downs and the surprises and traps we face as we navigate through uncertainty. (pause) Not sure, how they found their cast but the acting was immensely gripping, don’t you think?

Clarabelle: The acting was great. And the ferris wheel was an amazing metaphor and way to end the story. I was thinking how much tougher their lives were going to get and what could possibly make things sweeter!

Ivan: Now it's my turn to ask the question - I was wondering what the ferris wheel was about.

Clarabelle: Then ferris wheel reminded me of how suffering is always going to be there in life but like the momentary, ephemeral nature of the ferris wheel ride,  we can always give thanks to the tiny little happy moments.  On the larger scale though,  I saw the ferris wheel to be a symbol of our life. Whether we like it or not, we're going to be moving. You can't just suddenly leap out of the ferris wheel. And then we'll meet different people(the changing faces)who come and go in our lives.

Ivan: Interesting - you saw it as them meeting different people while I thought of it as depicting different life stories. That there are many refugees in our midst and that each had his or her own story to tell as well as struggles to face.

Jeremy: The film is very rich in visual imagery and it shows the filmmakers have put a great deal of thought into representing certain complex issues, distilling them into visual statements, or even audio statements, like getting the refugees to sing the Thai national anthem at the beginning. I thought that moment was so iconic in how it layered the political with the situational.

I also find it so telling that across several films, there were subtitles mentioning 'a certain language spoken in a certain accent' e.g. 'Thai spoken with Myanmar accent'. It’s something so minute and easy to be missed in the blink of an eye but I appreciate that the filmmakers have included them in an attempt to explain the socio-political backstories.

Ivan: Yes. The use of subtitles were sometimes rather strange but I guess they were trying to capture the essence of what they were filming for a foreign audience.

Clarabelle: All the languages- I didn't understand. Even for Chinese, I needed the subtitles. But what was interesting was that after watching the films, when I went out today and heard people around me speaking in their mother tongues, I felt like I was in a movie and there was music (the sound around me).

Jeremy: Hahaha. Where did you go? (That you heard so much mother tongue?)

Clarabelle: Just the MRT. All I heard was a young girl speaking on the phone and I already felt like I was in a movie. The incomprehensible language is now like music to my ears. I am more aware of it. Before, it didn't feel like that.

Jeremy: That's true. Watching all these shorts was quite an audio smorgasbord. As a person living in an economically more comfortable part of Southeast Asia, watching many of these shorts at a weep was akin to feeding on ‘developing world porn’. But what’s rewarding is that you are sitting through over hours of National Geographic. You are not just meditating on the relationship between these subjects and yourself in Singapore, but also the relationships and hierarchies between these subjects in their own territories.

Clarabelle: Yes, I think so too.

Jeremy: Why did you like My Father after Dinner Clarabelle?
My Father After Dinner by Gladys Ng


Clarabelle: I liked that film because it is 'normal'. The most parallel to my reality. And because of how ordinary it is, it stands out from all the other films in that list. The film nudges me to reflect more deeply about my life. Life, in being mundane, can be worth thinking about. The scenery...the beautiful sun that rises and can be seen from the view of the HDB flats- reminds me of how I always look to the sun for comfort ever morning. It is something beautiful that will never fail to appear even if everything around me is upsetting. All these simple things were very moving to me.

Ivan: I  can see your point about seeing these treasures / special moments in everyday life but somehow I thought that the actual film didn’t really have an end point. It didn’t seem to really go anywhere.

Clarabelle: Because the film was easy for me to identify with...it moved me.  But there were other films that were really absurd and because of their eccentric nature, they made me reflect about life in its essence too.

Jeremy: I did enjoy the film and the rhythm but it didn't quite stick with me.

Ivan: Same for me! It was almost just a snapshot of a typical day in the life of many Singaporeans.

Jeremy: There was a scene in which the daughter (who has this ‘film crew’ vibe in her) came back late, and then had to scurry off to work the following (carrying 2 cameras with her), that was particularly dejavu! Probably for many people in the film industry. (beat) An example of how the mundane can strike a chord in films! (pause) Speaking of mundane, how did you find 'Our', the Thai film about the newly-wed couple having a conversation at the beach?
Our by Sivaroj Kongsakul

Ivan: It is nice and simple but it didn't make me go wow a day later.

Jeremy: That was like an ode to 'Before Midnight', with its seemingly aimless conversation peppered with incidental stimuli and dream-recollections that tested the boundaries of their newly-sealed journey as husband and wife.

Clarabelle: I like how the sound of the sea was the background to pretty much the whole film.

Jeremy: Yes, I think it was a film sensitive to sound textures and visual details. Another film this short film seems to be a nod to is Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s ‘Blissfully Yours’, which also captures the flies and the fleas, the birds and bees (with a capital B) around the a middle-aged couple’s trip to the mountains.

Ivan: I didn't quite believe them as a couple having just gotten married.

Jeremy: Haha.

Clarabelle: All I wanted to do was perhaps reach into the film and grab some glutinous rice they were eating.

Ivan: yup i agree!! hahaha

Jeremy: Yes (I was wondering what they were eating) then I remembered these little street food takeaways in the Thai shopping centres. Very delectable!

Clarabelle: They were married because they thought of themselves to be right.. Makes me think of what exactly defines marriage. Is it just a formal certificate?

Jeremy: There was a slightly ironic shot of the certificate inserted into the car seat pocket at the end. (pause) ‘Ferris Wheel’ aside, my favourites are ’For Ofelia’ and ‘Three Wheels’.

I think ‘For Ofelia’ is a conventional film well-made. While being competent in many areas while I hate to use the term 'tick the box', it ticked many boxes), I found the acting and direction rather sincere. The director, which staying loyal to his script, does not lose his sense of earthliness about his subjects. There were moments when I thought it was going down the slimy slope into TV-melodrama, but it averted it.
For Ofelia by Christopher de las Alas


Ivan: Yup, I can agree with you Jeremy there on ‘For Ofelia’. It was a well paced, well made film. Between Ferris Wheel and For Ofelia, For Ofelia gave me the impression of having been produced well – clear and clean editing, well paced storyline. Ferris Wheel seems to be in a more raw form – perhaps the subject matter also led to some of that difference.

Jeremy:‘For Ofelia’ certainly had a more scripted approach and tighter narrative structure than ‘Ferris Wheel’, but it still managed to retain pockets of spontaneity. For instance, the scene in which the uncles gave the boy alcohol baptism was realistically played out.

Clarabelle: Yes. I love how the director exudes subtlety in his presentation of the film. The film was easy to watch but it certainly doesn't mean it was easy to film.

Ivan: I totally agree Clarabelle!

Jeremy: What did you think of ‘Three Wheels’? The Cambodian film.
Three Wheels by Kavich Neang


Clarabelle: I like how the film was built on the fundamental point of how people were forced to marry across Cambodia during the Khmer rule

Ivan: I thought it was nostalgic actually.

Jeremy: The spotty 60s folk music blaring from the radio certainly made it so!

Ivan: Yup, it was sad but hopeful at the same time.

Clarabelle: I love the dilapidated visual scene of the home and how he lights a candle, transforming his home with the lights around the tent  and finding his happiness with the little things that he can change because it's not easy to get out of a marriage when you want to anytime.

Ivan: Yup i agree. It shows an insight into a different world. Something that I would probably not have experienced or known about if not for the film.

Jeremy: I do feel this film is particularly well-thought out plot-wise though stylistically not distinctive in its approach. The realist touch, the apparent absence of art-direction and the appropriately-long pauses in dialogue, place this film at an intersection between fiction and documentary. You are sometimes coerced into believing the film was just made with a camera planted in a real couple’s house.

Clarabelle: So much of unease found in the undertone of the film. It's like how many of us have layers of unhappiness, hurt that we bury beneath us. We might look like we're alright at the front but that might not be the case.

Ivan: Yup, I agree it has a number of undertones which almost got lost.

Jeremy: Through the director's sensitive touch, we are let in on the textures of the relationship between the husband and wife, from the awkward photo studio moments to the more tender hair-dyeing moments.

Clarabelle: I thought that one of the actresses in Three wheels was perhaps the same girl who acted in The Scavenger?
The Scavenger by Sothea Chhin

Ivan: Hahaha i didn't notice that at all. Scavenger was actually hard to watch. I am quite impressed at how they managed to film that as the conditions must have been really tough for the entire production – cast, crew etc.

Jeremy: Name me some of the most surprising films in this selection, in terms of content that shocked or subverted your understanding of things.

Clarabelle: The Asylum by Prapat Jiwarangsan. I didn't have a clue what was happening- maybe I was really in an asylum.

The Asylum by Prapat Jiwarangsan

Jeremy: I do admit if I don't read the synopsis, I have no idea what's happening in the film ‘The Asylum’. ‘The Asylum’ has 2 characters whose backgrounds are not clearly explained in the film and they are both seek some comfort in the sanctuary of a pond.

Ivan: hahaha yup there were a number of films like The Asylum which I thought was plain strange. For me, June in Pieces by Edward Khoo just seemed too familiar (Didn't help that I knew some of the actors). Another film that was strange was As I Lay Dying by Nguyen Phuong Anh.

Jeremy: Oh why that Ivan?

Ivan: Both asylum and as I lay dying just seemed almost like film assignments.

Clarabelle: I agree with Ivan on As I lay dying. (That is one of the films that shocked me).
As I Lay Dying by Nguyen Phuong Anh

Jeremy: I thought it was just a very esoteric, ruminating piece. What shocked you?

Ivan: It didn't really shock me so much rather more shocked to have a slightly different experience as I was expecting a more typical film.

Clarabelle: There was so much going on and I was lost. I felt like before a point could be made, the film went onto exploring a different point. Reflection of birds and nature against city lights, then the whale sounds and dead fish swimming everywhere as well as in a bucket. Then there were all the symmetrical images.

Jeremy: Hahaha. I learnt about the whale and its sounds. Though I wondered what special significance it had in the filmmaker’s situation in her own context in her country. (pause) How was Memorial of an Inquiry?
Memorial of an Inquiry Jan Pineda


Ivan: I didn't quite get the point of it. I thought it referred to a particular back story that I might not be familiar with

Jeremy: I felt there was a lot of visual experimentation that was incidental rather than deliberated. So the filmmaker simply inserted whatever ideas came along into the editing timeline. Making creating this film a journey in itself, even more than the film itself. A journey that is sometimes lost, not in linguistic but visual translation.

Clarabelle: For Memorial of an Inquiry, when it begun, it creeped the crap out of me. Thought it was an Asian horror film at first.

Jeremy: It does, doesn't it? When you give the actress white irises!

Ivan: haha yeah...I totally had to turn the volume down, it was completely freaking me out.

Jeremy: I actually watched this film twice, the second time with the volume down, in fear of the rather creepy soundtrack. And she walks around like a Pontianak!

Clarabelle: There was this point that I remember. Death is brought by uncontrollable rage. Maybe I would understand better if I knew of the socio-political references.


Jeremy: I do admit liking this film a little better on second viewing, appreciating the interplay of visual and audio textures, and picking up some of the socio-political nibbles in the film. (pause) I particularly liked the old footages of Marcos, lending a different thought trajectory to the film.
It makes great looping installation art. (Just don't turn it on at night alone in a house)

Clarabelle: Yes, reminded me of art installation too.

Ivan: Yup, it definitely reminded me of an art installation.

Jeremy: Let's talk about films with animal titles. ‘The Fox exploits the Tiger's Might’ - this film has travelled well and was even screened in Cannes this year.

Clarabelle: ‘Crocodile Creek’ felt like an environmental and cultural documentary.

Ivan: The fox or crocodile?

Jeremy: Ok let's talk about ‘Çrocodile’ first.
The Crocodile Creek by Sai Naw Kham

Jeremy: I must say this was one complicated Burmese legend! (pause) There was a prince and  princess love story happening on one plane and this rivalry between a male and female crocodile happening on another plane. And these are such scheming beasts, they can’t just launch a straight-forward fight, they skirt around their human masters, demonstrating judgement and cognizance equal to humans. Which is also telling about how the Burmese people view animals in their society.

Clarabelle: To me, ‘Crocodile Creek’ was about establishing a relationship between the environment and perhaps folk culture. (pause) But here is something I find interesting: I remember present day people visiting the lake like tourists. Then there were the people who guarded the lake and its culture-those who offered chicken liver and duck eggs and then there were the unspoken groups of people who were those who polluted the lake.  The scene felt like it had different scenes of the different groups of people pasted together without a smooth transition and this was almost as if the groups of people didn't understand one another.

Jeremy: Yes, there was certainly a sense of disjointedness there.

Clarabelle: Purposely disjointed perhaps to symbolically show the lack of understanding among the different groups of people and almost like a degrading of the folk tale.

Jeremy: Didn't think of it in that way, but it does make sense!

Ivan: Yeah, definitely a new angle that I did not notice before.

Clarabelle: Like the folk tale is losing its clarity over time.

Jeremy: Present-day people salvaging what's left of the folktale.

Ivan: Talking of the relationship between folktale and people, ‘The Fox Exploits the Tiger’s Might’ is another attempt at establishing this relationship.
The Fox Exploits the Tiger's Might by Lucky Kuswadi


Jeremy: Certainly a more colourful and hyperbolic way. To be honest, I did find the approach in ‘Fox’ a little too heavy-handed and stagey. And watching this film is really an assault on the senses, from the behavioural quirks to the tonal variety of the different characters in the way they speak to the sexual acts. Some bits were plain jolting for me, like the mother being violated.

Ivan: Yes, it felt very raw and violent but yet interesting.

Jeremy: Being an actor yourself, how did you find the acting Ivan?

Ivan: I found that the acting was better in that film than some of the other short films. To me, it had a natural and real feel to it. However, I think some actors might have been overly directed. They seemed to be perhaps placed or instructed to move or perform in a particular way i.e. a little stiff – it might just be due to being young actors.

Clarabelle: Trying to make sense of the story, I believe the fox is supposed to be technically weaker than the tiger in terms of physical strength but maybe mentally stronger in terms of how conniving and sly of a creature it is? The meaning of the title could not be seen through the characters - to me at least.   However, I felt like the director (as a fox- because he is weaker in terms of the absence of his physical presence) was exploiting my mind (I am the tiger because I am stronger physically as I am present in front of the film) by making me feel at unease.

Ivan: Hmm that is an interesting take as I actually had made a note that I did not get the connection of the title to the film. Additionally all the characters looked to be pretty flawed from beginning to end, hence I was trying to work out what was the point of the film, or what it was trying to say.

Clarabelle: Actually, the scenes were not shocking to me. They were...disturbing but highly imaginable!

Ivan: Hmm you are right, perhaps shocking could be a wrong choice of word. Disturbing might be a better fit to describe the film.

Clarabelle: Perhaps the reason why I am not shocked is because it shows how flawed human beings are - how they can be strongly driven by their weaknesses of lust. Perhaps this film is trying to cunningly strike us and make us think about how animalistic we can be at times, exploiting one another without a conscience.

Ivan: Hmmm perhaps...but I still somehow do not really get the arch of the film because nothing really happens to these characters at the end of the film. There are a number of disturbing scenes, some just displaying the animalistic side of human nature, but at the end the characters just remain doing what they always did from the start. I guess I was just looking for a journey for these characters.

Jeremy: Still on sex, I found ‘Junilyn Has’ to be a very nondescript take on the industry of exotic dancers.
Junilyn Has by Carlo Francisco Manatad


Ivan: Yes, it took a while for you to find out that you ae watching a film about exotic dancers. (pause) I get that the film is showing the reality of life behind the scenes of an exotic dancer which is actually quite interesting. But it seemed like an odd film to me, missing something treatment-wise.

Jeremy: In what ways do you find the film odd?

Ivan: Initially, I was drawn in by how the story was structured to unfurl. How the audience slowly learns what the story is about. But at the same time, I felt it went off a little on a tangent at times. I am wondering if perhaps I might have missed a point or two. For example, the main character is suddenly shown to have a conversation with a boy – who is he? And how does his presence affect the storyline?

Ivan: I still feel in this film, the audience was left to fill in too many blanks. I would have liked to get a clearer point of view from the director, and what he is trying to say.

Clarabelle: I was wondering why they chose to have a cast of strikingly contrasting girls. Perhaps, the contrast between the girls shows a realistic growth curve. I feel like most of them (exotic dancers) might be uncomfortably forced into the industry - like the girl who looked so uneasy and was constantly thinking a lot before doing what she was taught. But as times goes on, perhaps they go through the growth curve of becoming completely subsumed into it that they just mindlessly do what they are taught to do without thinking, (pause) and that is represented by the wild girl.

Jeremy: I think it has a lot to do with personal tastes. There were a couple of other entries whose stories were not as precise as their stylistics or thematic representations.

Ivan: ‘June in Pieces’ included?
June in Pieces by Edward Khoo


Jeremy: Ah interesting, what did you think of it?

Ivan: To me, it may be a film that relies a lot on effects - close shots, nostalgic music, black and white. Additionally, it had a clear journey although it did not stand out by having a particularly strong story or perhaps way of telling a story. I was wondering if there was too much focus or concentration on the effects and stylistic elements of the film.

Jeremy: Agree. I actually love the stylistics of the film more than the story. It evokes a certain complex mood that encapsulated a sense of searching, longing, 60s nostalgia and escapism.

Clarabelle: ‘June in Pieces’ didn't stand out for me. How did you find ‘Mui’, the Vietnamese film about the pregnant girl and her friend, the other pregnant girl who disappears, all taking place in a water village.
Mui by Le Bao


Jeremy: I found it very hard to connect with the film and it seemed a bit post-apocalyptic, with the dark waterways and the grey and grimy colour palette. Sometimes, it was like a watching a Vietnamese version of Deepa Mehta's ‘Water’, which shines a light on female outcasts. What did you think of it?

Ivan: The movie did not really stand out for me, I just felt that it was quite frenetic.

Clarabelle: I found several scenes in the film quite harsh like how in the beginning, a man stuck out his foot to touch the girl's pregnant belly when they were on a boat on the sea. The beginning of the film opens with a girl carrying a dead pig on her shoulders and walking indoors. Was wondering what that might signify.

Ivan: I found the film quite surreal in its setting and treatment. It might have worked better if it was set in some local market. I am still trying to self-debate if having a local nuance is good as it shows something very local or bad as it might disconnect some audiences. Maybe what’s in the film is indeed a reality for them?

Clarabelle: It might be a reality for some which might make it easier for them to find a connection to the film. But at the same time, because it isn't a reality for others like us, we might have more question marks in our mind and question marks are good in provoking thought. However, too many question marks just create disinterest. There needs to be healthy degree of balance to keep the viewer engaged.

Ivan: I totally agree with Clarabelle! It is a very fine line to walk. (pause) On themes this year, it is evident many directors have chosen to film what is familiar. Many of the stories are strongly local. Perhaps the familiarity helps with choosing the subject matter of either a local story, folktale or issue. Even in a more generally themed feature like ‘Thread’ - which is not too localised, to me, it relied on knowing a connection to a folktale

Jeremy: Not surprisingly, as filmmakers, I think one of their most important aims is to make a film that is sincere, honest and believable.

Clarabelle: Most definitely. Because there'll be common human values embedded in the familiar local scenes (which we could consider to be unfamiliar) Human traits will always be familiar.  When the director can get those traits across through the film, I feel it is easier to communicate the film to the viewer.

Jeremy: Were there any particular films that you found too local and alienating?

Ivan: I think some of the films like ‘Mui’, ‘Crocodile Creek’, ‘Our’ or ‘Memorial of an Inquiry’. These films seemed like you needed to understand some of the local contexts for them to be fully appreciated, hence not necessarily being able to capture and interest all audiences. I felt a film like Anthony Chen's ‘Ilo Ilo’ did so well, because although it was very local, it was also told in a relatable way to an international audience. One did not need to know the local background to relate to the characters and the story.

Jeremy: Watching all the short films, I felt a sense of cultural disparity between the Singapore films and the other films from Southeast Asia. The Singapore films exhibited a different sensibility and mood from the other Southeast Asian films. I am wondering are we just different worlds economically, or do you think there is a cinematic language that is uniquely Singaporean that makes different from the rest?

Ivan: Hmm, I did not quite get that sense of a different sensibility in the Singapore films but I think it comes down to something you mentioned earlier that directors may naturally film subjects closer to what they are familiar with. In the case of Singapore, comparatively, our country's situation is economically very different from the countries around hence film makers might just film differently based on their environment. It does not necessarily mean better films, just perhaps a different subject focus as a consequence of their environment.

Clarabelle: I think we are from different worlds. Singapore is significantly different from all the other countries that have environments far from being considered comfortable.  Hence, I feel the same as Ivan.

Jeremy: Do you think there is an identifiable ‘Singaporean’ film language? Among the Singapore entries, do you see commonalities in cinematic style?

Ivan: I see more commonalities to previous Singaporean directors actually. In other words, I am saying these films have traces of previously-seen directorial style. For example, ‘My Father After Dinner’ reminded me of Anthony Chen or Boo Junfeng at times. I am thinking that it may just be natural evolution to take inspiration from previous directors, in particular those who have gone on to achieve some success!

Jeremy: I want to add ‘Liao Jiekai’ as well for ‘My Father After Dinner. (beat) For me, what I do see among the Singapore entries is a very polished visual style e.g. meticulous art direction, camera framing, colouring etc. (pause) Almost too exquisite. (pause) Watching these films made me appreciate the rawness the other Southeast Asian entries have. I am not sure if they are raw because of lack of resources or maybe it is just the prevalent filmmaking culture in their respective countries?

Ivan: Perhaps that could be a consequence of the film industry's maturity as well? Of having access to resources and exposure?

Jeremy: I don’t think Singapore’s film industry is that mature yet but yes, perhaps some truth in what you say. After all, if you watch Eric Khoo's ‘Mee Pok Man’, the film that reignited the making of independent films in Singapore in the 90s, you will find it very raw.

Clarabelle: I think ultimately, it is environment. For the filmmakers, their environments are a strong influence in the way the films are created. After all what we see in our environment is visual...what is communicated through the film is also visual.

We leave you with the trailer to the winning film 'The Fox Exploits the Tiger's Might'


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Not forgetting, the faces behind this chat room!

Jeremy Sing - Jeremy started SINdie 8 years ago as a diary of the film community's movements and an excuse to meet more Singapore filmmakers. He is thankful for the friendships made over the years.



Clarabelle Gerard - When Clarabelle is not writing at work, she can be found wandering, reflecting, having a conversation over tea with a friend or immersed in composing literature.



Ivan Choong - Between work, writing, learning Russian, draping and performing - Ivan is still wondering what else can be squeezed into a day! 

@SGIFF 2015: Review - The Man who knew Infinity

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Exploring infinite possibilities with this film besides just the universe of the numbers, the film The Man Who Knew Infinity debuted at the 26th edition of Singapore International Film Festival. 

Screened at Marina Bay Sands Singapore, the event was a celebration of sorts - complete with the director, Matt Brown, as well as actor, Dev Patel, gracing the red carpet and entertaining questions pertaining to the film itself.

The film allows the audience to follow the life of mathematician Srinivasa Ramanujan Iyengar – starting out poor from Madras, India to his admittance into Cambridge University to become one of the greatest names in mathematics under the guidance of his professor, G. H. Hardy.  It is based of the 1991 biography written by Robert Kanigel.

Personally, I am wary of films that pride themselves in being “based on a true story” because most times, the films start playing up the string of events that lead up to a victory or an epiphany or an inspiring moment for the entire human race to look up to. 

However, it is a pleasant and heartwarming surprise to discover gems of realism as well as truth in this particular piece of work. 

The acting as well as the subtleties in portraying illness and emotion was grounded and true to life. Being a big budget film with a stellar cast, it was almost expected that it would turn out to be just another Hollywood feel-good.

All characters were humanized and managed to reach out for audiences’ empathy; worth more than just being a face and spurring the movie forward. Though this may be a small detail, it made the story telling so much more comprehensive and dynamic. It was almost like watching a memory play out – one that captures your heart and interest. 
A groundbreaking portrayal in the entirety of the film would be its capture on racism back in the 1920s, and ironically how it mirrors our society today.  Even though it was not the main storyline of the film, the actions triggered by the sensitivity of the theme caused a deeper understanding of the characters as well as the situation during the war. 

It also raised a lot of questions that are still relevant today. Disappointingly, such as how we have advanced so greatly in our intelligence quotients but are still pretty stunted in our area of acceptance, understanding and love for someone of a different colour.  


Weaving the different threads of mathematics, war, racism and the exploration of the self, The Man Who Knew Infinity is the film that marks the start of a new need to question our generation of ideas; to see how far we have come, or not.  It is also incidentally or not, a great reminder that film is still one of the best methods for storytelling that we cannot do without. 

Review by Dawn Teo

The film 'The Man who knew Infinity' was screened as part of  Singapore International Film Festival 2015 under its Special Presentation Programme. Read more about the film here.

Director Matthew Brown and lead actor Dev Patel (star of 'Slumdog Millionaire') who played mathematician Srinivasa Ramanujan graced the red carpet screening event at SGIFF.

@SGIFF 2015: Review - Dirty Romance

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As lullaby music purrs, gentle rays light birthday decorations in what seems like a children’s room. Unsuspectingly, the camera floats to reveal Mi Joong’s reflection in the mirror; she is writhing, twitching, uttering unintelligible words from a crooked mouth. The uninitiated might be caught off guard by this uneasy transition, but for those who have seen Lee Sang-woo’s films – yes, it is another dark slice of life brimming on the margins of Korean society.

Other than the occasional trip to the market (in which her brother, Chul-joong, pushes her around in a trolley), Mi-joong spends all her time in the room. Practically confined to her mattress by physical and mental disabilities, she relies on her brother for constant care. But as loving a brother as Chul-joong is, the burdens of providing for his sister, coping with his studies, and struggling to pay their rent soon takes a toll on his being.

He seeks out an old friend, Chang-ji, and forces him to have sex with his sister, as both payment for an outstanding debt and Mi-joong’s “birthday treat.” Whether it is out of desperation to fulfil his sister’s desires, or as punishment for his friend’s philandering ways, this immense egocentrism of brotherly love teeters on perverse. As Mi-joong squeals “Chang-ji oppa” in delight, and Chang-ji summons up all manhood to get an erection (after barfing and several attempts at chickening out), we are confronted with a sex scene that is at once comical but pathetic, hilarious yet deeply saddening.



Meanwhile, Chang-ji is wrought with his own family drama – a dementia stricken mother and a brother recently released from prison for rape. Unveiling one tragic character after another, in a web of entangled relationships, Lee refuses to let us grow accustomed with either family’s miserable situation. He valiantly – almost stubbornly – pushes the boundaries of one’s tolerance for the abject, probing deep into the abyss of the human soul.

Complementing the wonderfully intense performances is the fluid movement of the camera; it follows the characters and tracks them down dark alleyways, in an atmosphere laced with tension. Through long lenses, we are forced to feel like voyeurs; often seeing Mi-joong from behind the veil that covers her futon, Chul-joong’s reflection from the windows of the jajangmyeon restaurant, and Chang-ji as peeks at his mother from behind the gates. Perhaps, this is Lee’s way of urging us to peer into the lives that society refuses to acknowledge, by bringing to light the plight of the mentally challenged in the most non-condescending manner. 


Alas, there is Deok-ho, a mentally disabled boy infatuated with Mi-joong. The pair form an unexpectedly poignant romance, their unworldly love a warm thread of narrative in this harsh, cold film. Further than the sexual depictions, Dirty Romancequestions the very notion of what it means to love – Is Mi-joong’s one-sided love for Chang-ji valid? Does passionate love only belong to the mentally able? What extremes would one go to for love? Its answers are heart-wrenching, and fiercely sobering. 


Review by Amelia Tan

This review is part of the Asian Feature Film Competition series at the Singapore International Film Festival 2015. Read more about the film here.



@SGIFF 2015: Review - The President

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The Presidentbegins with the line: “Set in an unknown country”. Our imagination is not starved of examples: the president could be Gaddafi, Assad, or Putin; the country could be Egypt, Tunisia, or Russia. Aptly released in the wake of the Arab Spring, The President is both poignant moral allegory and political satire; although it sometimes comes across as overly didactic, simplistic and underwhelming.

The film opens with a whimsical show of power. A dictator, dressed in military regalia, demonstrates absolute power to his grandson. Whimsically, he orders the city’s lights to be turned on and off. And yet, in the blackout, gunshots fire and shells explode: the revolution has begun. He is eventually deposed, and we follow his attempt to escape through the wreckage of his regime and the revolution.

Mohsen’s satirical knife cuts gleefully through the inflated titles and uniforms to the small men behind them. As angry mobs swarm his Cadillac, the dictator cowers in the backseat. Eventually abandoned by his entourage, he is forced on the streets, living on scraps and in hiding. Stripped down, he shows that “strongmen” are even less than us: paranoid survivalists whose insecurity drives them to cruelty.

The coup sets the stage for the morality play that is the heart of the film. The dictator experiences firsthand what it is like to live under his own yoke, as the military that once served him becomes the new tyrant. Old friends turn down pleas for help; he did them no favors when he was in power, so why should they help him now? Irony and retribution serve as a cautionary tales: what you reap is what you sow, and those you step over on the way up are also the ones you meet on the way down. His journey through the desolate landscape of his nation is also a spiritual trial, as he faces his crimes in person, encountering the victims of his regime. His shame and fear is palpable as he overhears the curses they lay on his name, and yet he must repent in silence, for if discovered, he would be lynched in a heartbeat.


But as if holding back, the director seems unwilling to reveal the true horrors of autocratic rule. Most of the scenes of suffering seem watered down and far between, and most crimes are related verbally, not seen. We see little of the extreme violence and destruction of real autocracy and its aftermath. Thus, the gravity of the dictator’s crimes, and his repentance, never feel heavy enough. Also, there is no true catharsis or realization: there are flashes of guilt, but the dictator at the end has mellowed only slightly. While this could be deliberate on the director’s part, there isn’t much in the way of revelation, and the character ultimately falls into a dictator stereotype.

Moral overtones aside, the film strives to comment on the cyclic nature of violence. The rebels and defected military are hardly better than the regime. Rape, robbery, and violence are rife. The dictatorship of fear continues. And brutalized, the people become brutes themselves. There is no talk of trial, or proper platforms for conflict resolution, but only hate.

This message is the more eloquently conveyed in the film. There are a few scenes of startling cruelty. However, the film’s timing is partly its curse. In the wake of the Arab spring, the film still seems like a sanitized version of real life. Furthermore, the complexity and chaos of a post revolution country isn’t captured. The narrative oversimplifies the conflict into the military against the people, and fails to capture the splintering of post-revolution societies, where rebel groups tussle over the carcass of the old country.


The Presidentis still a good movie. But its mild repetitive narrative, which feels like a series of lessons on human nature and morality, and the paling of its conflict next to gruesome reality, waters down its message and impact. Ultimately, The President functions more like a fable than a true image of totalitarianism. Quite sufficient for the most of us, but to the disillusioned masses of the Arab Spring, fact is far bleaker than fiction.

@SGIFF 2015: Review - Happy Hour

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          With a runtime of 5 hours 17 minutes, the title Happy Hour may be a misleading one. Admittedly, this reviewer approached the screening with reluctance: I seriously contemplated if it was possible to spin a review viewing only half the film. As I walked into a near full theater, I’m sure the rest of the audience was thinking the same thing. How many, I wondered, would be able to endure the next five hours?

          As time puttered by, such thoughts vanished.

           Happy Hour focuses on the friendship between 4 middle-aged Japanese women and how it is strained when one friend’s divorce compels each to re-evaluate their own lives, and their relationship with each other. It is an outwardly Japanese, but centrally universal movie that captures modern-mid life, with all its struggles and revelations.

          Brevity is key to cinema, and while Happy Hour is slow, it is certainly not dilute. The film has an eye for detail and sensitivity to the understandings behind our everyday lives which allows it to pack its scenes with meaning, such that even with its length, it never seems strained. The film draws insight from the ordinary, using a conversation on a bus, a book event, or a dinner with friends as material to develop its characters and plot, and each scene is just right: it makes its point, and moves on before it becomes a burden. This is not to say the film is perfect in this regard: there are scattered pieces that seem to extend well beyond requirement, sometimes to the point of repetition or awkwardness, but they are few enough to dull the richness of this work.

          Rather, Happy Hour is long because it has so much to say, and because it embraces rather than simplifies complexity. On first sight, the 4 central characters fall neatly into stereotypes, but as the plot develops, new perspectives continually challenge our impressions, and each character matures such that we are left with 4 very different individuals, with a very different dynamic at the end. Even the supporting casts are well-developed as characters: none feel like plot devices or placeholders. The film is apparently about divorce, but is merely a catalyst; it really is about the unfolding drama of each of the 4 characters and their constellations of relationships. Happy Hour’s length isn’t its weakness; it is its strength. With the patience and breadth afforded by time, the plot is allowed to develop organically and take detours, growing out of each individual’s motivations, and changing courses as each character comes to their own realizations.


          Its richness and patience lend an air of realism that makes this film about mid-life crises emotionally resonant and profound, and utterly relatable. With each character and their circumstances, both main and supporting, fleshed out in full, the audience is allowed to engage with these characters like real people. The dialogue never seems scripted: the writer has an incredibly precise understanding of what people are like and how they speak. And the cast, particularly the 4 female leads Tanaka Sachie, Kikuchi Hazuki, Mihara Maiko and Kawamura Rira play their roles with such emotional honesty that they melt into their roles. That, I believe, is an actor’s finest distinction.

          Happy Hour is a mature and compassionate film, and as we sit through the ebb and flow of the character’s lives on screen, it is not difficult to see ourselves in them. It is about pain and joy, about expectations and disappointment, about belonging and alienation. And as each character fumbles through the entanglement of circumstance towards their personal truths and happiness, it reminds us that we aren’t alone in our urbane struggles, and we grow stronger and wiser with life.

          It was almost 1am when the film ended. And yet, as I looked back, I could not help but smile.


          Everyone was still there.

@SGIFF 2015: Review - The House by the Bamboo Grove

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Set in director Alvin B. Yapan’s hometown of Baao, The House by the Bamboo Groveresembles an abstract painting of nature and human in a single canvas, seemingly idyllic yet deeply perplexing.

Michelle is a recluse who devotes most of her time to traditional embroidery, living in her beloved bamboo house even as her parents move away and the entire world moves on. The film endeavours to portray the house – and the items in it – as objects that stand by a life of their own. When a pair of scissors disappears, Michelle thinks it is telling her to stay; as bamboo rafts float along the river, we get a sense that it is beckoning us somewhere.

The connection that Michelle feels towards her surroundings is somewhat incomprehensible to the ordinary man. Just like how she loves the bamboo house, the house makes love to her – literally, in a bizarre masturbation scene where ferns envelope (embrace) her body. It is a connection that is intimate, but also bordering on obsessive and insane. Conceivably, this mystical duality is where the film attempts to summon its dramatic tension; the graceful motion of pulling thread is juxtaposed against the decisive slaughter of a chicken, the chatter of children interspersed with the sinister hammering of wood. Even Michelle’s thoughts echo with a split personality.


This latent tension intensifies when other humans “invade” her space, evidently so when Larry, a documentary filmmaker pays a visit. More of Michelle’s peculiar dreams play out in vignettes, a particularly traumatizing one of being violated by Larry. Interestingly, this resembles an insidious critique on documentary filmmaking and its dangers of exploitation.

The House by the Bamboo Grove is an ambitious film, in that it challenges its audience to closely observe the interactions between humans and objects (and not merely watch the actors). That particular stone in focus, the mechanical movement of an ant, the spinning beetle tied on a string. As the universes of random items, insects and vegetation interweave, the film suggests an alternate way of living. It does not attempt to always make sense; it simply presents (wo)man and his attachment to our environment as it is.

The film is a courageous venture by Yapan to explore the concept of vitality of life around us, but unfortunately, its lack of narrative clarity and haphazard pacing makes the film a tad laborious to watch.

Review by Amelia Tan

This review is part of the Asian Feature Film Competition at the Singapore International Film Festival 2015. Read more about the film here.


An SG Film for Every Occasion in 2016

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Happy New Year everyone! As the new year starts, here is something handy for those who want a primer on recent Singapore films, especially if you haven't been keeping up and you want a reason to watch. We are giving you a 'Watch SG Film Calendar' here because we believe there is a film for every occasion through the coming year. Here is hoping that these films will enhance these special days to come. 

New Year’s Day
1 Jan  
‘In the room’ by Eric Khoo
In Room 27 in a fictitious Hotel Singapura, a young man named Damien dies of an overdose of happy pills on New Year's Day. Straddling between the netherworld and the real world, in Eric Khoo's terms, Damien plays a creepy voyeuristic ghost who stalks human beings caught in relationship junctures tied to sex. Slicing through a cross section of the decades, this is somewhat Eric's tribute to Singapore going through puberty. For those who want to say Happy SG50 for the last time, say it with this film.

Thaipusam 
24 Jan
‘Journey of a Kavadi Bearer’ by Navin Kumar
Navin Kumar' short film 'Journey of a Kavadi Bearer' offers you an unusual insight into the festival many of us may feel squeamish about. It is unusual because this is actually the journey of a Chinese medium getting into the body piercing ritual of Thaipusam. Get into the psyche of a devotee and revisit this rich tradition that's been played out on our streets for the longest time. And thankfully for a return to good sense with the lawmakers, they don't need to turn the volume down again this year.


Chinese New Year
8 & 9 Feb   
‘Homecoming’ by Lee Thean Jean
No CNY is as close to the local experience as much as 'Homecoming'. It's got everything a Singaporean and Malaysian needs to feel festive. There is Karen Neo, the naggy Singaporean mum who is trying to look like an Ah-Joon-Ma  (Korean auntie) played by the inimitable Jack Neo. There is the goofy kampung boy-next-door Ah Niu who plays her son. There is that familiar bus ride up Malaysia and the even more familiar toilet experience of having no toilet paper! And of course lots of CNY cheer for the whole


Valentine’s Day 
14 Feb 
‘The Girl in Pinafore’ by Chai Yee Wei
Though an ode to Xinyao, 'The Girl in Pinafore' is really a 'pak tor' movie, with heart-stirring love songs that speak of more innocent times Singapore has seen, the 80s/90s to be exact. This was a time without Facebook and Instagram and East Coast Park was still possibly romantic for a date. The film follows a group of school mates who bond through song and dance, and there is also a tragic Romeo and Juliet plot thread that hopes to yank a few tears from you.


15 February
15 Feb
‘To Singapore with Love’ by Tan Pin Pin
15 Feb is actually not a special day but the title of a song composed and performed by Francis Khoo, one of the political exiles interviewed in Tan Pin Pin award-winning film 'To Singapore with Love'. Sounds heavy? The film's really quite relatable as it more interested in how they live the day-to-day and how they connect with the Motherland now.


April fool’s Day 
1 Apr 
‘Mr Unbelievable’ by Ong Kuo Sin
After almost becoming the PSY of Singapore, actor Chen Tianwen wants to stun you like a vegetable even more with this feature film. And that's no joke. Getai gets a new twist with English lyrics. Think '881' translated. The film also offers some 'feel good' sense of hope as it is about a man who wants to sing a different tune from his family's Getai staples and eventually fulfills his dream. Don't think too much when watching this. Just sing along with your heart.


Labour Day 
1 May  
‘Labour day’ by He Shuming
This Labour Day, pay tribute to workforce heroes with He Shuming's short film 'Labour Day', which is essentially a collection of 3 female portraits - a peidu mama who moonlights in red lights, a Malaysian photocopying lady who fails to get her work permit renewed and their landlady.


Mother's Day 
8 May  
‘Money No Enough 2’ by Jack Neo
While Jack Neo's 'Money No Enough 2' is a take on money-besotted Singapore, it is also an ode to all mothers. While chasing money, three brothers need to take care with their dementia-stricken mother who cannot remember the colour of the last bra she wore. This film is proven to milk your tears according to feedback from many. It will also


June School Holidays
‘Singapore Panda’ by Sun Koh
Whether you have visited Kai Kai and Jia Jia at the River Safari or not during the June school holidays, 'Singapore Panda' by Sun Koh is rather exceptional edu-tainment material for the whole family. You get to learn about pandas and the art of storytelling on radio. The mischievous digs on the state of radio and commercialisation will also tickle you silly. 
(No trailer available)

Father's Day  
19 Jun
‘3688’ by Royston Tan
Celebrate Father's Day with an air of nostalgia thanks to the sounds of the Rediffusion aa heard in Royston Tan's latest feature film '3688'. While a tribute to the late Taiwanese singer Fong Fei Fei, the movie peers into the life of a 'Carpark Summon Auntie' and her trying relationship with her father who (like the mum in 'Money No Enough') also has dementia. Essentially, she is trying to take care of her father who thinks he is taking care of her by selling Rediffusion sets, an obsolete product. Note: If your father is a baby-boomer and understands Mandarin and Hokkien, there is a high chance he listens to Fong Fei Fei too! 


SAF Day 
1 Jul 
‘Ah Boys to Men’ by Jack Neo
Need we say more?
Mind you there is already 4 in the pipeline, after the success of Part 1, 2, 3. Steady Lah!


Youth Day
3 Jul  
1. ‘Red Dragonflies’ by Liao Jiekai
What do youths think about these days - What to post on Facebook? What to post on instagram? Travelling to faraway places? So what is Youth Day about? Liao Jiekai's 'Red Dragonflies revisits youth through the jungle adventures of three students who like they are wearing NJC uniforms. Trekking through a huge expanse of foliage, one of them drops into a hole and disappears. Then time leaves that episode behind and the characters have moved on with their own lives until they decided to look back, revisit and ask big questions again. Have a thoughtful Youth Day!

2. ‘The Songs We Sang’ by Eva Tang
This documentary about the Xinyao movement will make the Gen-X among us feel youthful again. Tracing the development of this music culture that is somewhere between folk and pop, the film also speaks of a time when a guitar is all you needed to create the next radio hit. This labour of love by filmmaker Eva Tang features interviews with pop stars like Stephanie Sun, JJ Lin as well as footage from a mini Xinyao concert at the Bras Basah complex, that saw crowds throng the corridors.

Hari Raya Puasa 
6 Jul
1. ‘Sayang Disayang’ by Sanif Olek
If food helps unlock festive cheer, then surely some fresh sambal goreng during Hari Raya Puasa will add sizzle and spice to the occasion. Sanif Olek's first feature film, about an Indonesian domestic helper who tries to cook sambal goreng to win the heart of her disabled master, will restore your faith in good old-fashioned human values like friendship, forgivesenes and redemption.  This film was also Singapore's entry to Oscars Foreign language film category in 2014.

2. ‘03-flats’ by Lei Yuan Bin
Amy Tashiana shows you how to celebrate Hari Raya Puasa in style even when your HDB flat isnt too accomodating in terms of space. She uses her corridor and a huge serving of spirit and zest as a host. This documentary '03-Flats' puts the microscope on the lives of three women who live in vastly different HDB units, with interior designing (or the lack of) defining each of the flats and mirroring each woman's personality. One lives a very spartan life with minimal furnishing, one is a visual artist who has transformed the flat into an impressive studio. Last but not least, there is the larger-than-life Amy whose mix of boudoir and glamour will convince you that the shoebox which is the HDB is what you make of it.


Singapore Food Festival
July
‘Old Friends’ by Royston Tan
Royston Tan gives Makansutra the cinematic treatment with meticulously executed shots of food and their preparation overlaid with earnest voices from the hawkers who will convince you their food is made from the heart. Something to whet your appetite duri


National Day
9 Aug 
1. ‘7 letters’ by Royston Tan, Eric Khoo, Jack Neo, Tan Pin Pin, Kelvin Tong, Boo Junfeng, K Rajagopal
'7 Letters' is possibly one of the best SG50 tributes we saw in 2015. It brings together what might be the 'Big 7' among Singapore directors (Eric Khoo, Jack Neo, Tan Pin Pin, Boo Junfeng, K Rajagopal, Kelvin Tong, Royston Tan (Anthony Chen not included)) and jogs an assortment of memories about Singapore. It is essentially an omnibus of 7 short films made by the 7 directors, each given the stimuli that their film is a love letter to home. We dare say surely will laugh, and likely can cry. (Plus Jack Neo's segment has zero product endorsement for once)

2. ‘1965’ by Randy Ang and Daniel Yun
The other film that was made for and timed with Singapore's 50th anniversary is '1965'. This obviously period film depicts Singapore in a time when racial relations were tense and Lee Kuan Yew did the crying thing. Watch this for the epic treatment, cast of thousands, high production values and Lim Kay Tong's LKY impression.


Hungry Ghost Festival
Aug   
1. ‘2359’ by Gilbert Chan
2. ‘881’ by Royston Tan

Take a pick? Do you want horror or comedy this 7th month? Such is the multi-faceted nature of the Hungry Ghost Festival in Singapore that it spooks you, shocks you, tickles you and entertains you. Stories involving the netherworld are aplenty to make you want to reach home before 23:59 every night in fear that you may bump into some woman with long hair and a white dress. For people who are not afraid, test your tolerance by watching '2359'. This horror film is about the fateful Charlie Company in Pulau Tekong in which a recruit disappeared from his platoon and was found dead and disembowelled later.


For those who cannot stomach horror,  opt for a signature piece from Royston Tan, '881'. Through the singing career of the 'Papaya Sisters', we are taken through the melodies and beats of Hokkien songs and realise that they are actually quite melodic. This was the film that redefined Hokkien music and made it somewhat cool. Don't miss it!


Teacher’s Day 
2 Sep
‘Kallang Roar’ by Cheng Ding An
We found a good teacher in Uncle Choo from Cheng Ding An's 'Kallang Roar' - a film about how the Singapore Lions won the Malaysia Cup  (soccer) in 1977. That was the legendary team with Quah Kim Song and Dollah Salleh, led by the team's coach Uncle Choo. This is a 'road to victory', feel-good kind of film about fighting, sportsmanship, friendship and a very inspiring teacher. It is like a Singapore version of Mr Holland's Opus (played by the late Robin Williams). For soccer fans, subject matter aside, the movie has the blessing of the 2 legends Quah Kim Song and Dollar Kassim as their sons acted in the movie.


Hari Raya Haji  
12 Sep
‘Road to Mecca’ by Harman Hussin
There are many movies out there about the Mecca Pilgrimage but this is one made by Harman Hussin, a Singaporean about his road trip to Mecca. Little encounters and pockets of surprises make the film more than just a 'Lonely Planet' video. These include a grand prayer session in India that resembled a Hollywood set and a serendipitous encounter with a girl called 'Priti' (no pun intended) in Lahore at a high, breathtaking vantage point overlooking the whole city. 


Children's Day 
7 Oct 
‘Innocents’ by Wong Chen Hsi
Growing up in Singapore back in the 70s and 80s, many would be more familiar with the concept of 'tough love' than the children today. Everyone was caned at least a few times by their parents but in today's Singapore, kids have it easier.  This film, while taking a leaf from the authoritarian culture we experienced in the earlier decades, also offers some questions for children and adults today about conforming and finding their own space. Two young school children, class monitor Syafiqah and rebel Ah Huat, form a close friendship driven by the oppression of their school and find solace in spaces like the public drains where they can claim their own. A film like this makes Children's Day a little more thoughtful.

Deepavali 
29 Oct
‘Stranger’ by Boo Junfeng
'Stranger', one of Boo Junfeng's earliest short films, takes you on a tour through the human maze that is Little India near the Deepavali season. Pregnant with reminiscent thoughts, we see Little India through the director's eyes who is rekindling old memories of happy times spent here. A little fun, a little sad, a little deep and a lot honest.
Stranger - (2004)
from Boo Junfeng on Vimeo.

Halloween 
31 Oct 
‘The Maid’ by Kelvin Tong
Go ahead and scare yourselves silly this Halloween by watching The Maid, possibly the scariest local horror flick on record so far. A Filipino domestic enters into service for a Singaporean Chinese couple in an eerie-looking shophouse. Discovering what her fate could be will send electric chills down your spine.

World Kindness Day  
13 Nov
1. ‘Dahdi’ by Kirsten Tan
2. 'Not Working Today’ by Tan Shijie 
Believing in 'paying it forward' may not be the easiest thing in today's world but these 2 short films will restore your faith in kindness. 'Dahdi' by Kristen Tan is about an encounter between a Rohingya refugee and a Singaporean Ah Ma. While the Ah Ma makes a police report about the refugee's intrusion, she also instinctively offers her milo and other items of comfort.

'Not Working Today' is about a Bangladeshi construction worker who needs to take a breather from the daily grind of work but has no money to see a doctor and he discovers an unexpected pocket of kindness from a Singaporean. 
(No trailer available)

World Toilet Day  
19 Nov
‘Everybody's Business’ by Lee Thean Jeen
Did you know that World Toilet Day was invented by a Singaporean? The person who invented it is Jack Sim, who, like us, feel Singapore can do better when it comes to toilet hygiene. The film 'Everybody's Business' puns the word and the concept of 'shit' to death but is still immensely entertaining. There is an abundance of laughing material if you don't mind the toilet humour overdose. There is a department called the Ministry of Toilets in which Kumar is the toilet minister. This minister literally walks the talk and visits local coffeeshops to take dumps to test the condition of coffeeshop toilets. Then there is the epic sewage pipe bursting sequence where it rains shit everywhere. Enough kick, enough entertainment and a nice useful message to take home.


World Aids Day 
1 Dec
‘Rubbers’ by Han Yew Kwang
Have a little fun while remembering to have safe sex on World Aids Day, with the comedy 'Rubbers'. If this trailer clip of award-winning actress Yeo Yann Yann slipping a condom over a banana rocks your boat, go catch it as the movie promises to be as naughty as Ris Low's red 'bigini'.


International Migrant Workers Day
13 Dec
1. ‘Ilo Ilo’ by Anthony Chen
Take this day to remember the contribution of our migrant workers who are helping to build our new MRT lines and take care of our house chores and children. There is no better movie to remind us that they too form an important block in our social jigsaw puzzle than Anthony Chen's award-winning film 'Ilo Ilo'. Based on Anthony's personal experience, the film depicts the growing relationship between a young boy and Terry, the Filipino domestic worker who lives with him. Certainly a film worth watching based on its own merit, anytime of the year.

2. Unlucky Plaza’ by Ken Kwek
While Onassis is not exactly a migrant worker in the film 'Unlucky Plaza' by Ken Kwek (more like a migrant business owner), this film's allusion to Lucky Plaza, a meeting point for thousands of Filipino domestic workers every week, is a reminder of the mixed social fabric we have in Singapore. This film, as some reviewers have mentioned, is a Singapore film like no other due to the director's bold over-the-top style. Onassis' failing business at Lucky Plaza and mounting debts drive him to create a hostage situation that rocks the whole of Singapore. Guess the impossibly high-octane plot speaks for itself. 


Christmas  
25 Dec
1. ‘Singapore Minstrel’ by Ng Xi Jie
Christmas is a time to share joy and spread some cheer, very much like the act of busking, an ancient art form that stems from the love of performing and brightening up the lives of people who watch it. Filmmaker Ng Xi Jie lets us in on the world of busking through the eyes and voice of Singapore's most famous busker Roy Payamal. Like busking, the film is quite a mixed bag of many things - make-believe,  fantasy, realism, social commentary, theatrics and education. So give your time for buskers this Christmas who are working hard to add colour to our streets!

2. 'Gift' by Daniel Yam
This unassuming short film garnered over 8 million views on Viddsee and got re-posted, ripped and reshaped in plenty of other online sites all around the world. It could be Singapore's more viral short film ever. It's a simple short film about a dad's love and his best gift to his son. Soak into the spirit of Christmas with this short film here.


That's all folks! 
Remember: an SG film a day keeps the blues away!

@SGIFF2015: Review - Paradise

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Resignation reigns supreme in this somber film about the place of women in modern Iran.

Directed by promising newcomer Sina Ataeian Dena, and co-produced by Yousef Panahi, brother of Berlin Golden Bear winner Jafar Panahi, Paradise follows the journey of a disaffected young woman, Hanieh (Dorna Dibaj), as she tries to escape the oppressive miasma of the conservative school she teaches at. Part documentary and part social drama, the most striking part of Paradise is easily its visual language: the often-used candid camera approach lends a sense of organic growth to the narrative, while the striking contrast between the outfits of the various characters with the mundane and drab palettes of the landscape evokes a certain Pop-Art yet Neo-Realist aesthetic sensibility.

By interacting directly with non-actors on the Iranian streets, who are not aware of the fact that they are being filmed, Hanieh confronts the issues that the modern Iranian women faces at a basal level, exposing the true state of the body politics and policing of women from since they were youth, to their completely indoctrinated adulthood and old age. Given the somewhat blandness of Ataeian Dena’s screenplay and the ham-fistedness of his imagery, this artistic choice that favors an amorphous, and ever-present, sense of dread and urgency over that of contextualization helps to balance out the monotone that the film occasionally lapse into.
Thematically, the most comprehensively covered idea in Paradise is that of moral resignation—in the opening, we bear aural witness to an interview between Hanieh and an officer responsible for approving her application to transfer from a school in the distant suburbs of Tehran to one much closer to the city, and listen in on the enforcement of a hegemonic religious tradition on an obviously emotionally-battered woman. The audience gets to watch a black screen while Hanieh is verbally hounded and queried on how much neck and ankles a woman may show: emphatically, the answer is none. Later on, even as we watch Hanieh subvert the various expectations of tradition in minute acts of rebellion, we also see Hanieh crack down on acts of dissent by her students with her own brand of self-policing words. In this case, the accused has become the accuser, and we get to extrapolate the only outcome these exchanges can have, a vicious cycle of traditionalism enforced with thinly veiled and clearly articulated threats.

While Dibaj’s subdued performance is thus fitting, it also leads to the occasional lull in narrative pace, as the plot is presented at a soporific speed throughout the entirety of the film. However, viewers with patience can thus get the opportunity to revel in the immersive quality of the society depicted and the space it inhabits.

The more interesting sequences of note are those involving Hanieh’s school and its all-female student populace whose acts of rejection of school laws is simultaneously envied and resented by Hanieh—we watch these hijab-clad girls discuss the hairstyle of anime character Judy Abbott and sing pop songs whilst still being so heavily constrained by the cultural framework they live in, and the effect is joyously surreal. Darker is the undercurrent that runs through the film however, as we piece together the connection between Hanieh, her behaviors, and the recent disappearance of her students, as well as the somber and reproachful tone that the adults approach their young with.

All in all an admirable attempt, a meta-textual curiosity of some merit would be that of its sound. Having all of its audio material confiscated before post-production, the entirety of the soundscape of Paradise is recreated in Berlin, where every dialogue and every background sound is painstaking work by sound designer Lajos Wienkamp Marques.

Review by Alfonse Chiu


Paradise won the Swatch Art Peace Hotel Prize from the jury for first features and the Ecumenical Prize at the 68th Locarno film festival.

This review is part of the Asian Feature Film Competition series at the Singapore International Film Festival 2015. Read more about the film here.

@SGIFF2015: Imagine - Asian Shorts Programme

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Asian Shorts Programme 

http://sgiff.com/browse-all-films/imagine-asian-shorts-programme-1/
http://sgiff.com/browse-all-films/imagine-asian-shorts-programme-2/
Held across two days at the Substation, the Asian Shorts Programme look to bring together and give exposure to up and coming new Asian filmmakers. The selections were wide and varied – coming from multiple countries including Thailand, South Korea, Japan, Israel, Iran and even Bhutan! A number of films were having their World Premiere (Coming Attractions, A Special Visit, A Monk In the Forest), International Premiere (April Fool’s, In The Room) and Asian Premiere (Missing One Player). 

The programme looked to cover different themes – from the avant garde and artistic, to dramatic, to animation and more. Some filmmakers chose to focus on a clear straight story line, while others preferred to be less structured in taking the audience through an experience of the film, rather than the use of a narrative storyline.

A number of personal stand outs include One-minded of which was told from the point of view of a fan. While the story itself was unique based upon the shenanigans within an apartment shared by two women, taking the point of view of a fan certainly added an extra dimension for the viewer.



Another stand out wasConstant Angle– a submission from Iran. Told in a single continuous long take, it was a very modern take on the relationship between a couple on a drive to dinner. The short’s pace was very strong and fast, and the filmmaker certainly made the most of the very strong script while drawing out the best in her actors as the different challenges and situations were played out completely within the confines of a car.  
My personal favourite was the submission from Israel, April Fool’s. A particularly well scripted short – it begins rather sedately with home video scenes of practical jokes before hitting the audience with a particularly shocking clip of a practical joke gone horribly wrong. The audience is then taken on a search for the prankster which ultimately leads to a journey of self discovery for the film maker himself.

Review by Ivan Choong

@SGIFF2015: Review - The Return

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There was an encouraging significant turn out at the National Museum to watch the Asian Premier of The Return by multi-disciplinary artist Green Zeng -  a Singaporean film on an ex political detainee as he returns to society after years of lost time and opportunities. It was a home-coming of sorts as the film had garnered international attention after having been selected for the Venice International Film Critics’ Week in July 2015.

The pre-text of the film about a political detainee would certainly have given rise to much interest – Singapore’s political sensibilities have increased among today’s millennia generation, and this with against the recent passing of Singapore’s first Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew, meant the film’s premier was definitely very timely and relevant. The film gives a voice to the human impact of political dissent through a fictional narrative of political detainee returning, and integrating into civilian society – the film sheds light on the challenges, personal sacrifices and the uncertainties of the future. The film certainly took pains in providing a good back story in setting the various scenes.

From a personal perspective, the hardship and emotional impact on immediate loved ones was quite emotional to watch. Broken relationships, lost time, missed opportunities between husband and wife, father and children were all very realistically depicted. Balance was achieved by including broken relationships that needed to be healed (between a repentant father and neglected son), and a more caring father daughter exchange that provided a catalyst for healing.


The daily challenges of re-integrating into today’s society was another aspect that the film did not shy away from. From re-connecting with other ex-political detainees, to media interest, to flashbacks of political movement that hinted at the activities that had probably resulted in political detainment – the audience catches a fuller glimpse into the how the lives of political detainees would have been affected.

The film looks to that an almost documentary approach. It did not provide an opinion on right or wrong, or take sides – keeping very much to presenting situations and allowing the audience to finally come to their own conclusions. Cinematographically, it was beautiful. The camera angles, framing and scenes were beautifully composed and shot. Much credit must be given to the photography team for being able to capture and invoke nostalgia through the use of image.



Perhaps my only comment would be on the pacing of the film. As many of the themes covered - such as relationship difficulties, lost time - are all very familiar and real to the everyday audience, the extensive detail and film time allocated to each felt at times repetitive.  The Return certainly comes at an appropriate time and voice in today’s increasing political awareness.


Review by Ivan Choong



http://www.thereturn-movie.com/trailer2/

@SGIFF2015: Review - The Kids

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Sunny Yu’s debut feature The Kids revolves around the lives of teenage couple Pao-li (Wu Chien-ho) and Jia-jia (Wen Chen-ling). The narrative shifts between the couple's high school days and the present, situated a few years after. Pao-li is now a kitchen helper at a roast meat stall, Jia-jia works at a café, and they live with their baby daughter and Pao-li’s mother (Yang Chi) – a compulsive gambler – cramped in a one-room flat.

Jia-jia’s struggles with her abusive father and cheating ex-boyfriend loom over the couple’s high school romance. The present offers little relief, saddled as it is with familial responsibilities and marital deceit. Contrast is mild between the past and the present.

Pao-li weathers through the day with a stoic countenance in both timelines, while Jia-jia's aspect is constantly clouded. The years in between have not left much of a mark on the characters, so the film’s juxtaposition of time is light in effect.

The drama in the present is triggered by Jia-jia leaving the house with the child, leading to Pao-li's ill-fated series of amends. The story plays out like a melodrama, but one of loose intensity and unexploited tension. In what was probably intended as a culmination of his desperation for cash to secure a new apartment and the marriage, Pao-li attempts to rob a wealthy woman in one of the final scenes. Yet, even this sequence was rendered with a gentle hand, and Pao-li’s desperation, like his character, appears distant.
There are some lovely moments in the film, and the one-room flat littered with unwashed clothes, leftover food, and occupied by Pao-li’s unkempt mother, provides a stark backdrop for the youthful faces of the couple and their child.


Yu's writing is sophisticated, and safe. The story in particular stands on its own without being consumed by thematic expositions. The visuals are similarly measured. What would be great for Yu’s next project would be a further venture into the depths of the ordinary. 

Review by Teenli Tan

This review is part of the Asian Feature Film Competition series at the Singapore International Film Festival 2015. Read more about the film here.

ShoutOUT!: State of Motion - A Bus Tour to iconic filming locations of a bygone era

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Singapore tends to be too hasty in obliterating things of the past. Thankfully, there are movies that have captured some of these lost monuments and places in Singapore. And here is your chance to set foot on where these 'lost' monuments once stood.

State of Motion is a bus tour that retraces these places with Singaporean artist and filmmaker, Toh Hun Ping through his extensive research on 20th century Singapore films and their filming locations. With a focus on a selection of classic Cathay-Keris films, audiences go on a trip to these film locations where an artwork responding to both the film and its site awaits them. Participants are encouraged to not just remember but to re-imagine the film and an ever-changing Singapore landscape.

Programme Outline
The starting point of State of Motion will feature a pop-up exhibition curated by the Singapore Film Locations Archive, focusing on the films of the Cathay-Keris Studio and the important landmarks related to this slice of history.

Tour participants will see a presentation of short excerpts from selected Cathay-Keris films, including iconic titles like Chinta Kaseh Sayang (My Darling Love, 1965), Korban Fitnah (Victim of Slander, 1959), Mat Tiga Suku (Mat Crazy, 1965), Che Mamat Parang Tumpol (Black Hand Gang, 1960) and Sumpah Pontianak (The Curse of Pontianak, 1958).

The tour will visit five filming locations ranging from the former kampongs in Siglap, to the old Outram Prison and the iconic Queen Elizabeth Walk. Each stop will feature a site-specific artwork, created by Singapore-based artists Kin Chui, Mark Thia, Hafiz Osman, Stephanie Jane Burt and Mike HJ Chang and curated by Kent Chan.

Tour Locations and Featured Films

Starting Point: Level 8 Promenade, National Library Building 

1. Old Outram Prison; Korban Fitnah (Victim of Slander, 1959)
2. Esplanade Park; Chinta Kaseh Sayang (My Darling Love, 1965)
3. Merdeka Bridge; Che Mamat Parang Tumpol (Black Hand Gang, 1960)
4. Former Kampong Siglap; Sumpah Pontianak (The Curse of Pontianak, 1958)
5. Forest on undeveloped land, the site for a pilot east coast reclamation scheme in the 1960s; Mat Tiga Suku (Mat Crazy, 1965)


This event is commissioned by the National Arts Council and organised by the Asian Film Archive for Singapore Art Week 2016 (16 - 24 Jan).

This is a rain or shine event. Participants are advised to wear appropriate footwear and clothing suitable for grass and muddy terrains.

Tickets can be bought via Peatix here.
Check out the tour route here: bit.ly/stateofmotion-map 

Programme Schedule
Tour Dates
16 January 2016, Saturday
17 January 2016, Sunday
23 January 2016, Saturday
24 January 2016, Sunday
Tour Schedule
Tour 1: 10:30 am - 1:30 pm
Tour 2: 11:00 am - 2:00 pm
Tour 3: 11:30 am - 2:30 pm
Tour 4: 12:00 pm - 3:00 pm
Tour 5: 12:30 pm - 3:30 pm
Tour 6: 1:30 pm - 4:30 pm
Tour 7: 2:00 pm - 5:00 pm
Tour 8: 2:30 pm - 5:30 pm
Tour 9: 3:00 pm - 6:00 pm
Tour 10: 3:30 pm - 6:30 pm
*Please arrive at Level 8 Promenade, National Library Building, 15 minutes earlier for registration. Tours will commence as per schedule. Latecomers will bear the risk of missing the tour.
*Limited to 11 pax per tour


ShoutOUT!: Watch 8 short films from 13 Little Pictures this Saturday under the stars

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Lei Yuan Bin's 'An Autumn Afternoon'

Presented as part of Singapore Art Week (16–24 January 2016), 13 Little Pictures, a filmmaking collective, will showcase 8 short films, including 3 new works this coming Saturday. The new works are Lei Yuan Bin's 'An Autumn Afternoon', Liao Jiekai's 'Silent Light' and ' Yeo Siew Hua's 'The Minotaur'.

Yeo Siew Hua's 'The Minotaur'


Liao Jiekai's 'Silent Light'


Tan Bee Thiam's 'Kopi Julia'

Here are the details:
Saturday, January 23, 2016 at 7:30 PM - 9:30 PM
LASALLE College of the Arts, Green, 1 McNally St, Singapore
All welcome. Admission is free
Refreshments from 7:30 pm.
Screening starts 8:00 pm

Programme (1 hr 25 min)

1. Tan Bee Thiam, Kopi Julia, 2013, digital video, black and white, silent, 7:04 minutes

2. Sherman Ong, Tickets, 2010, digital video, colour, sound, 10:20 minutes

3. Wesley Leon Aroozoo, A lion’s pride, 2008, digital video, colour, sound, 8:07 minutes

4. Gladys Ng, My father after dinner, 2015, digital video, colour, sound, 15:38 minutes

5. Daniel Hui, Animal spirits, 2013, 16 mm film, colour, sound, 8:54 minutes

6. Lei Yuan Bin, An autumn afternoon, 2015, digital video, colour sound, 9:17 minutes

7. Liao Jiekai, Silent light, 2015, 16 mm film, colour, sound, 11:45 minutes 

8. Yeo Siew Hua, The minotaur, 2015, high-definition digital video, colour, sound, 13:00 minutes

13 Little Pictures supports independent filmmaking through ideas, collaboration and production support. Since its founding in 2009, it has organized three regional film labs and produced twenty-seven films.

Celebrating six years of the collective, the screening features experimental films of mystery, including 'Silent light' (2015), a new work shot entirely on 16 mm film by Liao Jiekai, and 'Kopi Julia' (2013), a tribute to 1950s Malay horror films by Tan Bee Thiam. The films will be presented on a 6-metre wide outdoor sheltered cinema screen underneath the stars.

Featuring films by Wesley Leon Aroozoo, Daniel Hui, Lei Yuan Bin, Liao Jiekai, Gladys Ng, Sherman Ong, Tan Bee Thiam and Yeo Siew Hua. Curated by 13 Little Pictures and Melanie Pocock, Assistant Curator, Institute of Contemporary Arts Singapore.

Catch a trailer of the showcase here:



Useful links:
https://www.artweek.sg/events/spirits-of-cinema-short-films-by-13-little-pictures-screened-under-the-stars   

Lastly, enjoy this mesmerising trailer of Lei Yuan Bin's 'An Autumn Afternoon'. 

@SGIFF2015: Review - Panay

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We so rarely encounter nuanced treatments of aboriginal lives and struggles in the movies that some of the buzz around Panay, the opening film at this year's SGIFF, proved to be very promising indeed. What less could emerge from the collaboration between two directors, one with multiple feature films under his belt, and another whose aboriginal status should grant him some firsthand purchase on the struggles faced by such populations? What less might we expect from a film that clinched the Audience Choice Award at this year's Taipei Film Festival, and that landed among the top eight contenders for SGIFF's equivalent award after the festival's first five days?


Sure, critical reactions to Panay might have been lukewarm, drawing attention to its broad characters, saccharine plot and generic village milieu. But perhaps those compromises are not out of place for a film aimed directly at the hearts of a mass festival audience, especially to serve a cause as well-intentioned as the representation of aboriginal lives. Of greater concern, however, is the risk that Panay's good intentions don't necessarily serve the cause that it promises to back, and could well lead it instead to backfire.

Here's a rundown of why:

1) Panay bogs itself down with too many challenges for its protagonist.

Panay opens with wide shots of an idyllic cliffside motorbike ride into the title character’s village, giving us a sense of what’s at stake as we glimpse roadside billboards that declare ‘Land for Sale’. A boy sits on the roof of his house at dusk, trying repeatedly to make phone calls to an absent mother working on the mainland. That same mother, our title character, has her news item on the aborigines cut by her employer for, in her own words, ‘some showgirl’s tits’. An old flame from high school shows up at her doorstep, and turns out to be trying to help a client buy over their family’s plot of farmland. Her children tell him that their village canal has stopped flowing, leaving the land barren. Panay’s elderly father, tending the grasses alone, collapses into a faint.

These stockpiling challenges shape our sense of the stakes that might permeate Panay and plague aboriginal communities beyond the dark of the cinema. But we might also sense, just from Panay's first reel alone, that the film bites off far more material than it can chew in the space of 99 minutes. Given a miniseries, or even a full TV season, this material could have served as fodder for a sweeping and impassioned portrait of a contemporary Taiwanese aboriginal family. (We might not be surprised to learn that Cheng Yu-Hsieh, one of Panay's two directors, has devoted more of his recent filmography to the realm of TV.) Unfortunately, as a relatively short feature film, Panay simply doesn't have the running time or economy of expression to support such a portrait. And, as we will see, this lack of time and economy ends up further spawning two of Panay’s more fundamental hurdles to its own cause.

(WARNING: Spoilers to follow!)

2) The film never dwells enough on the impact that these challenges have on Panay and her family.

For a film about the difficulties faced by a subaltern population, Panay remains strangely bloodless. We hear that the farmlands have dried up, and yet the cinematography insists on leaving them in a hue of luscious green. Panay's father collapses from exhaustion, inciting a key plot turn, and yet his eventual fate isn't to receive a ceremonious death, but to be dropped unceremoniously from the plot altogether. Panay quits her job on the mainland, and drags her daughter away from hers, and yet no one in the family ever seems wanting for money. Instead of committing to any of these costs, the film opts instead for the occasional familial dispute, including a naively sentimental call for a grandparent's continued illness, the ripping of a crayon drawing, and a petulant cursing of family-owned land that would resonate with the older characters from Gone with the Wind.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that these melodramatic moments couldn't have worked in a film that worked to earn them. Nor am I saying that a film about aboriginal struggles shouldn't address how wider forces can strain the ties among the members of an aboriginal family. However, by focusing many strands of its drama on the familial, without ever extracting deep costs on that front, Panay loses much of the political currency that it earned when it initially framed the wider socioeconomic difficulties faced by these aboriginals. If we're asked to identify with the family at the film's centre, and yet this family never seems to deal with problems that can be traced to those dealt with by members of their race, then how can they help to channel an emotionally direct experience of those latter problems, in ways that the best of sociopolitical cinema can provide?

The sole exception, and one that Panay deserves much credit for, emerges in the harrowing encounter between Panay's daughter and a group of village children who resent her mother for apparently rousing the village in order to serve her own ends. Here, instead of presenting us with the confrontation point-blank, Panay's filmmakers opt for a cutaway and slow tracking shot that leave us genuinely worried about the fate that has befallen Panay's daughter. These scenes offer us a glimpse of a Panay that dwells on what we might not dare to countenance about the costs of fighting for a cause—if only the filmmakers had chosen to commit to it.

3) Panay proceeds to resolve its challenges far too neatly.

The film does commit to two particular sociopolitical challenges: the first involves Panay’s attempts to revive rice-farming traditions amid a village divided over urban development, while the second focuses on her battles against the state-sanctioned land grab that takes up much of the film's last reel. To Panay's credit, these challenges contribute its most mature and clear-eyed treatment of the realities that these aboriginals might endure. Unfortunately, however, these challenges also contribute some of Panay's most maudlin passages, a result of the film struggling to resolve these tough (and even intractable) realities.

In these passages, it becomes apparent that Panay and its title character deal with problems by insisting that they don't exist, or won't, in the face of pure humanist sentiment. When Panay is questioned by skeptical fellow villagers about what they'll do if their rice remains unsold, Panay guarantees that she will buy it all. When cops arrive to break up these villagers' protest against a land grab, one of the elderly villagers induces an identity crisis in one of the cops by asking him what tribe he is from. Panay's daughter takes a Tiananmen-esque stand against a hulking excavator, and suddenly their rice stock is sold, the land grab dissipated, and their canal re-hydrated. It's the Disneyland version of a story that deserves telling, except that even Walt Disney knew that happiness must be borne of sacrifice. Panay, for all the worth of its subject matter, sacrifices nothing.

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