ShoutOUT! : Creative Video Awards returns for its third year

'Playback' by last year's winner Tan SiangYu

Ths Creative Video Awards (CVA) returns for its third year this September for a new season, offering an exciting opportunity for both professionals and members of the public to fight for the ighest honour in video production.

Co-organised by Singapore Media Academy (SMA) and MediaCorp Channel 5 (Ch5), the competition has two categories – Professional, which provides a platform for creative individuals, production houses and reelancers to pit their skills against one another, and Open, for the general public with a keen interest in reating videos.

Acclaimed local film-maker, Royston Tan will lead a five-member judging panel made up of noted individuals
from different sectors in the media industry to judge the competition. All awards will be appraised by the panel,except for the Most Popular Award (Open category), which will be decided solely based on audiences’ SMS oting. SMS voting will also account for part of the total score in determining the Grand Video Award (Professional category).

Up to S$40,000 worth of cash and prizes are to be won this year. CVA promises to provide participants with unparalleled opportunities for their works to be showcased – all winning entries will be televised on Ch5 in a dedicated television showcase after the competition. Winning videos will also be automatically submitted for the 14th Very Short International Film Festival (France) for selection.

Says Tan Siang Yu, Grand Video Award winner 2010/11, “The win provided much exposure and also opened doors for me and my team. Other than the multiple screenings on Channel 5, I also competed at an international level with Very Short International Film Fest (VSIFF), where the film was screened simultaneously in over 20 countries.

Apart from the main competition, SMA will also conduct a complimentary video-making seminar, and two handson workshops to the public, as part of its fringe activities for budding talents to learn the curves in video
production at different levels.

Registration starts 26 September, and the video submission deadline is 9 December. Results will be announced at the concluding Awards Ceremony on 13 January 2012.
For more information about the competition, please log on to www.eSMA.sg/CVA.

Best Film pick at SIFF Silver Screen Awards

Hello Goodbye is a very deliberate film about lives crossing each other – something quite unlikely in real life but it makes me still willing to suspend my disbelief and lose myself in a world where lines can be crossed. A chambermaid starts an exchange of words on the feedback card with the businessmen guest whose room she cleans. This results in a chance meeting but one that is hit and go. We are not what he hit (!) but basically their meeting was the beginning and the end and life goes back to normal. While I would preferred a less easy payoff to the build-up exchange between them, the film still found a way to circularize the story by bringing our attention back to the void in her married life – her husband wants to have dinner finally.

The film paces itself as elegantly as the wallpaper in the hotel room (which I learnt was a set built in NTU!) The silent treatment and the soft lighting also complements the film well. It is unfortunately too safe a film and the hotel room chamber with guest interplay seems like something out of a Korean drama. While, I would give it a thumbs up for effort and style, I hesitate to raise my hands if its about adding something new to cinema.

At the time when I wrote this Hentak Kaki had already won Best Film. But no matter. Hentak Kaki rests almost completely on the thorny yet funny exchange between 2 men and the extent of the drama and characterization stays largely within the counseling room. This was my issue with film. It was a piece of theatre put on lenses. There was nothing the film explored that added depth and layered our view of the 2 men. Both friends, they get into a verbal exercise under the constraints of a Detention Barrack counseling session – an exercise that is punctuated comically by either attempts (mostly the convict) to get real and confront the real issues.



This makes Hentak Kaki a brilliant script, filled with irony, comedy and eventually raw emotions. But the execution leaves much room to broaden the cinematic treatment. The film does in fact attempt to depict the back story to the warrant officer’s sense of frustration – it shows him at the clinic talking to his medical officer and him in acute agony over his ligament injury. Somehow, the director’s literal treatment of the issue also limits the audience’s view of the matter. I mean, it is not just about a choice of job, it is about a perspective in life that film lightly scrapped through. And only in spoken words.



Watching the film Sisters really convinces me the point of the film is more conceptual than narrative. In a household that is celebrating a marriage, there are not enough ‘sisters’ to help in forming the familiar human barricade to test the groom before he is allowed to kiss the bride. The older folks resort to playing sisters, almost in a desperate fashion to salvage what is left of Chinese tradition. With the domineering auntie taking centrestage with her ‘sister’ role play, you wonder if the film is about struggling to keep up tradition. But the term ‘Sisters’ seems to have yet another meaning. The brother of the bride had evidently dallied with the groom in previous encounters, some emotional and it creates an awkward situation when the ‘sisterly’ games are played.

The film culminates in an awkward moment at the door of the bedroom when big ‘auntie sister’ gets the brother to role play as the bride and the groom has to express in his sincerest fashion, his love for the bride. The groom does a suave job, the family lets him go but the brother gets emotionally tangled at the spur of the moment, which was both narratively awkward as it was emotionally in that situation. While not every film needs a closure, the film, if it was to be more than just a exploration of the ‘sisterhood’, needed to find a way to feed the hungry ghosts of the past or put the ghosts back to sleep.

Speaking of ghosts, Threads, which is about a lady who makes funeral clothes meeting her own end, kind of spooks me with the stilted acting more than anything else. I think Mdm Yu, the seamstress character is the real thing in real life and the directors made the assumption that casting her in the role would be perfect. (I may be wrong in making this assumption). The lady who played the character tended to over-articulate her lines, almost to operatic effect. The film suffers on a few grounds. Again, like many of the films curated in the finalist line-up, the treatment was too literal and in this instance too linear as well. For a topic like death, the film could have played around narratively a bit more than just taking through the trite and teary hospital bed departure scene.



The film however, was not without its poignant moments. When Mdm Yu goes to buy another bale of cloth for a job, she buys an extra bale for herself to make her own funeral clothing. The shop owner is stunned into silence and offers it free to her as a kind gesture. Sharon Wong who played the daughter, anchored much of the film with her believable treatment of her character even though parts of it were to TV-acting. Threads is a film with a lot of colourful potential, if only the director could see beyond the obvious and give us a new clothes on an old body.

My pick for Best Film is Hello Goodbye which is an overall balanced film in its various crucial aspects that made it what it is.

Production Talk - 'The Hole' by Tan Shijie

Sypnosis

‘The Hole' is a simple story of mother and son, who are farmers. Long-widowed Ka-san feels compelled to have her only son Kenji marry, to his stubborn refusal: Kenji is happy to keep things as they are. On the day they are to visit father's grave, Ka-san broaches the subject again, and during their journey Kenji begins to understand his mother's hopes and fears.

What inspired this film?

The first desire in the very beginning of the project was to make a domestic film, something simple and unaffected. I was attracted to a character who is at first immature and selfish, but then gets a glimpse of someone else’s point of view, allowing him a chance to overcome himself. Whether or not this overcoming is entirely altruistic, is something I wanted to leave a little ambiguous.

Why the choice of a Japanese setting?

The second desire in the very beginning of the project was to make a film in Japan. Before I even thought about making films, I was watching a lot of Japanese Cinema; I was always thrilled by how Japanese films are so variegated, in terms of style, content and form. I suppose you could say it was as a small, personal pilgrimage of mine.

What convinced me that this story could take place there, was that there is something very specific about the mother-son relationship in Japan; a bond very sentimental and heightened, at least in my understanding of it, more than most Asian cultures. It seemed the right place to tell that story: it invested the characters and the situation with a dramatic weight automatically.

How would you have told the story differently in a Singapore setting?

The very basic through-line of a selfish character overcoming himself could conceivably be told anywhere. Setting the film in Japan had, in addition to the things I mentioned above, the rural, traditional setting, which gives it a sense of timelessness; in Singapore, this would not be possible.

The first thing: in Singapore, I do not think I would use marriage and mothers-and-sons. Perhaps Fathers? Helping the ineffectual Son get interviews at jobs he doesn’t see himself in? My first instinct is that it might be comical too. I am just speaking hypothetically here; in truth, if I were to properly answer this question I would have to make another film!

What inspires you to make films? You seem to have a keen eye for human
interaction and relationships

The possibility of connecting with other people. As much as I love the cinema as an art-form, I think it is meaningless if the films you make do not make a connection with the audience. Communion is its function. If there is one audience member that was touched, one person who watched the film and was moved, then I will feel that I did my job. It is this that gives me the most satisfaction, and convinces me to make another one. I’ve always thought that showing an audience your work is like confessing love to a stranger, saying “this is me.”

Thank you for your compliment- I just have an interest in human relationships, and what it means to be a good human being. These are questions I ask myself; I’d like to think that these things are important, and that’s why I make films about them.

What were some of the biggest challenges in making this film?

The biggest were the logistical issues: we shot in an area quite removed from the city, and there was no budget to move the crew to temporary housing close-by. So there was, at the least, a two-hour drive to location everyday. This meant less time, more tired cast and crew, and more stress.

Shooting car scenes as well, took a lot of time, because we would have to find the right spot, shoot the scene, and if necessary go back to the beginning spot to shoot again. But since it was a mountain road, it was not possible to U-turn; we had always to keep driving until we could, which could be quite far away. All these take time off from shooting; apart from being a scheduling problem, it also meant that the rhythm and momentum of working was interrupted again and again – luckily, I was surrounded by colleagues of integrity and professionalism, who worked hard to see the film through.

Take us through some of the interesting things that happened in your production.

There is this scene in the film, when Kenji hears his Ka-san call out to him at the far end of the cemetery. After the shoot, at dinner with the cast and crew, Asada-san (who plays Kenji), told me that we had shot that scene, in the very cemetery where he had discovered that his own mother had collapsed. It was a special revelation- when things like that happen you always feel like it is bigger than mere coincidence.

What I remember most about the shoot, was the very last day- when we shot the field scenes on the mountain. We were shooting the last scene in the schedule, and did not have a lot of time to do it. The mountain was four hours away from Tokyo city, and there was not a lot of daylight because the sun set behind mountain; it would be dark by three-thirty in the afternoon.

So we were down on the field and had to shoot a motorcycle driving past, situated several kilometres away; the sun is touching the tip of the mountain, we had fifteen minutes of daylight. We rushed the first shot, and it didn't work- had to do it again. 10 more minutes of daylight.

For some reason, the road suddenly had frequent cars passing by, which would have made the shot unuseable. We waited, but it wouldn’t subside - it was tense; the sun was setting.

All this while though, some kilometres away, there were men doing road works, and they were packing up for the day. My producers had a brainwave and asked if they could help: they gladly agreed, and put up road cones for us, and started to regulate the traffic!

So, we rolled the camera, and took the shot. It worked. When it came the time to call wrap, I had to shout because a lot of the crew was on top, at the road; so my voice literally echoed in the mountains- it was met with cheers, hugs and some tears; we were all so tense, like a coiled spring, that when we finished, there was real joy and relief.

That was one of the most special moments for me; on a winter mountain, the cast and crew hugging and congratulating each other at the end of the shoot. It is special when a group of individuals are united in a purpose like that.

--

Read the review of "The Hole" by Yvette in 8th Short Cuts Review

Best Director pick at SIFF Silver Screen Award

Best Director



Big Feet, the film about a girl and her Olympian dream of running was a breath of fresh air among the finalist cohort because it lets its characters breathe and .... run. With her swinging limbs, her whimsical moments in the classroom, her unbridled energy when she sprinted, the little girl was very much in her element and it steals your heart for a moment. Many of the other shorts tended to fit actors into roles mandated by the script too much like a formula. At a later point of the film, she gets too competitive for her own innocent age, as influenced by her father, and it struck me that this girl is such a godsend for a director - especially her nuanced transition from friendly racer to medal chaser, without overdoing the new 'kiasu' self she had discovered. I personally thought the masterstroke of Carl Lewis opened a new narrative tangent in what would then otherwise be just another parent-child relationship play.



Band of Mischief was a bagful of emotional baggage. It begins with suicide and ends with death. In between, the characters are constantly seeking for revenge. I do like the dark irony of the Halloween dressing up to deliver close-to-real scares. The audience gets their gore fix yet the director manages to deliver it more cleverly than just giving it to you point-blank. It is layered and it plays with your expectations of whether real blood was going to shed or when it would be. I personally am not a fan a flashbacks. The director could have used a bit more strategy in his narrative flow instead of planting flashbacks at the point of the 'torturer' inching towards the school bully with his electric drill, even though the cliffhanger moment was powerful. The film was also excessive at the various set up and resolution points, which I thought the director could have done with more economy in telling us who these people are. Overall, this was a rather uneven film that packed in suspense and gore and yet romanticised it at the end. It is a bagful of gems but the director needs to decide what to dish out.



Hentak Kaki would fit in very nicely into a stage play. Two characters interacting under play-pretend kind of situation, trying to slip into truthful conversation when nobody is watching and yet slipping back into their occupational roles to cover up. In the format of a film, I thought the director failed to reinvent the banter. I applaud the actors for delivering their roles pitch perfect. The Indian detainee was a little theatrical but the Warrant Officer seemed like someone you imported out of a camp! Good acting aside and also clever in 'turning around' a counselling session, the director could have thought more beyond confines of the barracks. Let us uncover his life a bit more, go beyond the stern, reprimanding voice we are so used to hearing, observe his moments out of his army fatigues. Why should we care that he is stuck in his career? Only Singaporean men would, we all what warrant officers behave as they do.

Sisters is a film about a man about to marry a girl whose brother he had some previous dallying with. The problem with the film is that it remains just that, to illustrate the cross-affair. What made the film interesting was almost the single-handed performance of the auntie who played a 'sister'. Firmly seated into her role, she delivers her lines with gravitas and oils the drama in the film with her piercing glares and command for and of attention, played effectively to humorous effect at various points. By the way a 'sister' is one who creates 'barriers' and challenges to the marrying groom who is supposed to surmount these in order to get his bride. The choice of someone beyond the conventional age to be a 'sister' was a brilliant one though the film faltered on it being too much a one-sided tennis game. The groom and even the sulky brother could have stepped up to their roles beyond cock-teasing. If one observes carefully, all the other characters are actually evenly believable in their roles, which shows the director's seasoned hands. If only we could see that drama that ensued after the rather abrupt ending.

My choice for Best Director is a tough one between Big Feet and Sisters (and perhaps Red Veil too) but I give it to Sisters for giving us a auntie who makes sure you listen up.

Written by Jeremy Sing

Best Performance and Best Cinematography at the SIFF Silver Screen Awards

Marc Garbiel Loh in First Breath After Coma

If I were to walk away from this year’s SIFF Silver Screen Awards Finalist films remembering one thing, it would be the penchant for the dramatic and the beam of light sweeping across the La Salle logo in a disproportionately high number of short films. Put aside La Salle, their productivity is commendable. What I would like to focus on is the choice of films for this year’s finalists – high on theatrics but low on filmic quality, with several shorts fitting nicely into a TV genre. With a tagline ‘See Different’ and a trailer with a caricaturized fight, it might be natural to draw the conclusion that we need to view this year’s films with a different set of lenses.

Here are who I think are likely to take home the respective trophies and why.

Best Performance

It is almost like a Jerry Hoh and Oon Shu Ann special when they repeatedly appear in the various nominated films. Oon Shu Ann has an aesthetically strong face with a determined look that certainly helps anchor the films she starred in. She played a hotel chamber maid in ‘Hello Goodbye’ with subtlety and economy of expressions, fitting the narrative needs of the role well. Her thoughtful glances speak volumes for the otherwise quiet film. She then plays a stubborn and brave young boxer who will bear the pain of her bruises for a slice of honour. Despite her nomination for this film, it is less preferred one to ‘Hello Goodbye’ because she seems to wear the same adamant look , which can be tiring to watch for an already intense film.
Jerry Hoh despite the frequency of his appearances seems sideline by the nature of his roles – fillers to tell the story of the protagonist. I would like to see Jerry play a really bad guy one day. How about that for a real change?

While Sunny Pang was nominated in 3 Days Grace and Benjamin Chow was nominated for Band of Mischief, their roles failed to make a leap beyond the literal. Sunny played a son who has to take care of his father who has a stroke and it is a thorny and painful job. I blame his hair for the role. It seems to condition him into becoming more of a pose. And we spend most of the time seeing his physical expressions of frustration but none of his dilemmas, if there was one. Then again, it could directorial. And what's with Benjamin Chow's nomination for his rather predictable and off-the-shelf portrayal of a muppet-haired school bully?

Oon Shu Ann in Left Hook

This leaves Marc Gabriel Loh as my favourite contender against Oon Shu Ann in the Best Performance category. Marc takes us through a journey with his crush, his fears, his self-doubts with a performance that is nuanced and befitting of the bittersweet overtone in the story. It is easy to turn a blind eye to the intricacies of his performance when the character that he is playing simply overrules our focus - one that borders on the freakish with his gender-straddling persona. But looking beyond the gender-bending, one finds an likeable heart, a quietly determined spirit and most importantly, someone who does not try too hard. Having said that, I think Fie's (Marc's role) mother deserves a special mention award as well for playing a mother that was predictably resigned to her fate yet surprisingly comic at the right points. She is a 'Feshyen Feshyen' Mum!

Marc Gabriel and the feisty lady playing his mother

My choice for Best Performance : Marc Gabriel Loh in First Breath After Coma
Besides Marc, I was also particularly captured by the respective performances of the lady who played Marc's mother and the Indian girl who played Netra in 'The Red Veil'. Netra had a unspoken charm about her that conveys the complex feelings she had when dressing the younger girl who was about to be 'baptized' into the same rocky journey she's been through as a prostitute.

The actress who plays Netra in The Red Veil

Best Cinematography

This year’s nominees reflect a stronger dramatic and narrative focus at the expense of cinematography. Most of the camera seemed to be simply tools to the plot, without helping to tell the story in a different way.

Blue Tide seemed like a foreign imported TV soap you can watch out of Channel 8. The variety of off-centre, partially framed, heavily shadowed shots resembled what seemed like a good fan boy tribute to the HK crime features. The only problem is there was nothing inventive and everything genre-driven about the approach.

The next nominee Band of Mischief romanticizes the act of revenge in the setting of a school. While playing with clichés like the ‘suicide-worthy’ rooftop wide shot, it threw a handful of tricks when it helped re-enact a torture scene, making torture so real and making what is ‘teenage’ so ‘adult’. There was even a steady cam shot that followed the walking protagonist with his back turned to us while he narrates the resolution. But the style of the camera did not complement or support the narrative but seemed single-mindedly aesthetic. Not a good thing when you start noticing the brush strokes of an artist more than the work of art itself.

Left Hook, like Band of Mischief and Blue Tide, fall into a genre look. This time, it is that of a fight club with oestrogen. The punches, the bursts of sweat beads, the quick sweeps and the shadowed lighting served the boxing-themed film well. Then again, the genre qualification of the film seems to douse the need for reinvention. The film must be applauded for it high production values and especially making bruises look real on the actresses face. Of course, good lighting on the part of the camera helped realize the look.

Window of Dreams among the nominees is my biggest puzzle for the documentary was a narrative triumph more than a cinematographic one.

The Red Veil

The Red Veil, if not for its poor indoor lighting would have been great contender for best cinematography. Perhaps making a corn field look scenic was too easy a job. Nevertheless the drifting shot of the actress as she moved down the line of drum-beaters achieved a kind of visual poetry that was hard to find among the rest of the finalist shorts in which the literal ruled the day.

This leaves Hello Goodbye as my favourite for Best Cinematography. It made a hotel room look deeper than its dimensions especially when nothing much was happening in the room except for cleaning, dusting and daydreaming. In a whimsical film about pining, the creators have managed to turn a standard hotel room into a sort of an emotional sanctuary. The soft lighting that filters through the curtains, the light distilled through wardrobe cabinet lourves and the overriding hues of the film makes this film live beyond its thin storyline. It makes you remember the place as much as the characters that filled the spaces. Which in my opinion may not be too far from what the director might intend, for the hotel room was in fact an emotional anchor in the film as much as it is a visual anchor.

Hello Goodbye

ShoutOUT! : Inaugural Asian Cultural Cinema Symposium

Priceless trailer of old Hong Kong movie Boat People by Ann Hui starring a young Andy Lau. The film will open the Symposium

LASALLE College of the Arts, Faculty of Media Arts is proud to announce the launch of the inaugural Asian Cultural Cinema Symposium.Themed Human Spaces, the symposium looks at film as space to reflect the collision of the human condition and cultural constructs. The symposium aims to collate and publish findings that can unravel ways to centralize marginalized “voices” that exist in different spaces through film.

Films screened

29th September

Boat People

30th September
Jermal
At The End of Daybreak
Things We Do When We Fall in Love
Taking Father Home
Yes, Madam Sir
Red Dragonflies
Agrarian Utopia
BI, Don’t Be Afraid
Refrains Happen Like Revolutions in a Song

1st October
The Burnt Theatre
The Middle Mystery of Kristo Negro
Balangay
Only Love/ Want To Be Soldier
Sankara
Father, Son and Holy War
Baby Arabia
Palangga
Carnivore

A series of 3 forums will also be held to raise questions about the state of Asian film and filmmaking.

FORUM 1: 30th September, 2.30 -5pm
Content: Asian Cinema - Content and Representation
DIRECTORS ON PANEL
•KHAVN De La Cruz
•Sherad Anthony Sanchez
•Jan Philippe Carpio
•Ato Bautista
•Anand Pathwardan
•Bounchao Phichit

•A Discourse on Asian-related content on film: how Asians are being represented and what needs to be represented as younger Asian filmmakers put their generation’s concerns on film
•Preserving and representation of Culture through Film
•A look at how Asians are representated by Asian and filmmakers worldwide.
•An assessment on what it means to have a film categorised under Asian Cinema: relevance of and issues concerning Asian Cinema

FORUM 2: 1st October, 10.30am -12pm
Content: Practice and Future of Asian Cinema
DIRECTORS ON PANEL
•Ho Yuhang
•Rayya Makarim
•Rithy Panh
•Uruphong Raksasad
•Liao Jie Kai
•Megan Doneman

•A study on the struggle in putting forth Asian sttruggles and issues of diaspora
•A look at funding independent Asian film and initiatives that can assist. A sharing on how Asian/Asian-related filmmakers how funding, producing and distribution need to stay relevant.
•A quick overview on how Diaspora affects filmmakers and audiences
•The medium of Asian Cinema: Discourse on Digital and Film

FORUM 3: 1st October, 2.30 -5pm
Motivations of Asian Cinema - Festivals and Commercial Viability
DIRECTORS ON PANEL
•John Torres
•Ying Liang
•Dang Di Phan
•James Lee

•Considerations on how the directions of Asian cinema tend to be targeted toward film festivals
•An overview on how Asian cinema can garner wider, more commercial market
•Discussion on technological approach reflects on the trends of filmmaking

Check out the full programme in here.

Still from Liao Jiekai's Red Dragonflies

Review: I Have Loved

It's impossible to look at I Have Loved and not get excited. It's a local film with evidently high production values. It's adventurously set in Siem Reap, one of the most culturally and historically rich places on Earth. It deals with love and loss, set across two separate times. And of course, it's got Glen Goei in a starring role. But, try as you might, it's a very difficult film to get into. It is an art film which fits the layman's definition of an art film, and in the end, it may have done better with the title I Could Have Loved.

In two narratives that run side by side, over different points in time but in the same place, we follow a young woman, Marie (Eryn Tett). In the earlier timeline, she's on holiday in Siem Reap, happily married to an older writer (Glen Goei) and has a light-hearted aura about her. In the other, she's returned to Siem Reap, and hangs out with an American-accented local (Amarin Cholvibul). She's clearly lost something very dear to her, and her sadness overwhelms her. As if following Marie's thoughts, we're shown the past, the present, disjointed fragments and images that are barely identifiable.

On the surface, I Have Loved seemed like the perfect ode to Siem Reap. It is a place where people from all around the world gather, if only for a day or two. It is a place where chance encounters and fleeting moments dominate; interludes which have the potential to change lives. The film's synopsis seemed to imply that this would form its heart, but from the very beginning, you realize that it isn't going to take that route. First frame to last, it adheres to (for the lack of a better term) the art house formula to the detriment of its story. Instead of introducing the characters to us and making us feel for them, we are given silence, long, seemingly irrelevant scenes and no insights into who the characters are. It is deliberately opaque in a manner that is alienating rather than alluring. One ends up struggling to piece the plot together instead of focusing on the events unfolding on screen. It isn't easy to identify with characters we don't understand and at the most, I Have Loved leaves you with that feeling you get when you read about a faraway tragedy. You recognize what's happened, you might feel some sadness, but then you fold up the paper or close the window and get on with your life.

Glen Goei is tragically underutilized in the film and probably has about 10 to 15 lines throughout. Most of the focus is on Marie and her relationship with the young man she meets on her second trip. That, in itself, is a downside, but also dampens the impact when the film reaches its climax.

Even as a travelogue, I Have Loved doesn't quite satisfy. There are two or three gorgeous shots of the temples, a lakeside and the Siem Reap river, but most of the film actually takes place in hotel rooms and other mundane spaces. When one of the best known portrayals of the Angkor temples is in Lara Croft: Tomb Raider this has to go down as a missed opportunity (Two Brothers captured it sublimely though). Glimpses of the temples are limited, and there's no sign of Angkor Wat; it almost seems as if what we got is a result of the filmmakers not having full access to film in the complex.

Regardless, it is necessary to express praise for the film's ambition. It has a boldness that is admirable because to go away to Cambodia to make a Singaporean film that doesn't have anything visibly Singaporean about it is no small undertaking. However, perhaps the most valuable purpose I Have Loved serves is to show that filmmakers should not force themselves to create “art” based on a tried and tested concept of what “art” is. Yes, Eric Khoo utilized silence, long takes and a piano-heavy score to groundbreaking effect in 12 Storeys, but that was 14 years ago. We need to move on, loosen up and not be afraid to make films where people talk and things happen. Ironically, we needn't look further than Glen Goei's two films to see how it's done. Until then, if you're looking for a film about interracial lovers, memory, tragedy and spending a lot of time in bed, go watch Hiroshima Mon Amour.

Production Talk - 'Libertas' by Kan Lume

About the film

A girl travels to Uluru in the aftermath of a tragedy. There she finds
rebirth. We made this film over a period of 2 years. We flew in an
actress from LA and spent almost 2 weeks in the outback. She climbed
Ayers Rock and swam with Aboriginal children. Serendipity was on our
side. We returned with over 900 minutes of footage and got to work
piecing it together. We didn’t allow ourselves to be shackled with the
need to make a 90-minute film. Libertas was the first work to be
distilled from this process.


This is the first time you are using animation to tell your stories,
why the choice of the medium you used?

It comes down to my process of creating a work. For each new endeavor,
I chase a certain energy – in this case, excitement from putting
different people and places together. At the time of Libertas, I was
living in Australia and was immensely curious about Uluru. Faye
Kingslee, an actress working in L.A. contacted me through email and
wanted to work with me. Megan, my co-director, was pursuing her
Masters of Fine Art at College of Fine Art Sydney. Putting these
pieces together, I had a vision for an animated short taking place in
the Outback starring one actor. I am keen on personal expression
whatever the medium might be. I like to experiment, and push myself in
new directions, and making Libertas was no exception.

What inspired this 'fable-like' story?

A close friend of mine committed suicide. It left me in a state of
shock and the feeling that something had to be done in his memory. He
was a pragmatist dealing with crippling issues of self-worth brought
on by his observations of the world and his peers. His mates were
advancing far beyond his reach and as intelligent and talented as he
was, he didn’t have the drive to play catch up. He lost hope. I’ve
heard about the pressures of coping in a results-driven society like
ours – even felt it myself, but now I was face to face with its
horrific consequences. I’m not against wealth and progress, but I do
think there is a lack of balance in our lifestyles. We work hard but
do we have adequate rest? Our spaces for play are shrinking each year.
Two years ago, I had a photo shoot in the last Lalang patch in
Singapore – in Punggol. It is now gone. Replaced by concrete
buildings. My favorite place to relax is the beach. Even that has
gotten more polluted. Have you noticed the amount of ships that share
the coast with us? It has quadrupled since five years ago. With the
influx of 800,000 more residents, the traffic and people congestion is
noticeable. It hasn’t reached the density of Hong Kong or New York,
but we are the tiniest of cities without the respite of a countryside.
There is no comparison. Even Luxembourg, the smallest country in
Europe with no Capital city, is 4.5 times larger than us and has
access to anywhere in Europe. Couple all this with the oppressive
humidity in our region and you get the idea. We work hard to stay
ahead, but when it is time to relax many have trouble doing so. I am
tremendously grateful for the advances that Singapore has made as a
Nation. As an artist I am sensitive to the zeitgeist of the times. I
cannot ignore the fact that our Nation seems to have an unhealthy
balance towards work and play. Office workers stay beyond the
appointed time. School children are given homework during school
holidays.

It boggles my mind that such a basic flaw exists. How can
rest time be regarded with such suspicion and contempt? After school
hours should be a time when school children are allowed, even expected
to do other things – play, relax, sports, hobbies etc. This “goofing”
around is integral to a person’s wellbeing. My friend who committed
suicide was a top student in a top school in Singapore. He was a top
Mathematics scorer in PSLE. He graduated from NUS. According to the
system, he was a success story. Yet he soon discovered that being able
to give all the right answers did not prepare him for life. Did he
have time in the entire 17 years of his education to learn things
outside of the classroom?

No. He was too busy with the demands of
schoolwork. Not enough opportunity presented itself for him to learn
to make good life choices. He, like many Singaporeans of the schooling
generation, find their identity and self-worth tied to their
examination results. My counterpoint in the “fable” is an idealist
with a gift to draw. I wanted to show that living life to the fullest
required an acceptance of yourself and your gifts. Living with
conviction is hard in a society like ours.

This story seems a complete departure from the usual premise of your
works (relationships, male/female tension etc), was it because of the
collaboration? Other reasons?

I decided early on I was going to take my time to grow into my craft
as a filmmaker. This meant leaving the door open to possibilities in
style, theme, medium. The spiritual mentors I look up to all took 20 –
30 years before they reached a distinctive personal voice. Despite the
film being an animation, it was still about an artist trying to find
her place in the world. The Art of Flirting featured a writer, Dreams
From The Third World was about a filmmaker, Female Games was about a
model and Libertas an illustrator.



This film seems to be the result of experimentation rather than
scripting, can you take us through some of how the film was realised
from concept to how the final product looks?

It started with a script. Then collaborators came onboard. I was in
Australia - that meant the Outback for me. Then there was the theme in
my head – escaping from something rigid and stifling into freedom. It
was a fantasy of course. The only experimenting was the fact that I
decided to film the story using one actor. Weeks leading up to the
shoot, I was fighting off the anxiety of the impossibility of what I
was attempting. Yet I knew this was the only way to do it. When I met
Faye for the first time at the arrival hall of Sydney International
Airport, we sat down and had a chat to get to know one another – a
chat that lasted for 2 days. Once the ice was broken, we quickly
decided that Ayers Rock was our ultimate destination. We wanted
something to happen there. We talked about it, but didn’t want to tie
ourselves down to one possibility. Faye suggested meeting Indigenous
people. While we were at the foot of Ayers Rock one day, a group of
Aboriginal children came up to us and started interacting with Faye.
She being the tomboy she is, jumped into their watering hole and swam
with them. It was spectacular. She even climbed some inner caves with
them. The whole experience was unforgettable and worth every effort we
put in to get there. The film was an offshoot of the experience, but
the experience alone was satisfying enough. Traditional hand drawn
animation was the obvious choice to tell the story because it
represented the protagonist’s gift and the audience had to see it at
work. Animating the 2 and a half-minute film required pure grit. 3
months of drawing. We went a little insane in the end. That is why the
animated Faye climbs up the rock and ends up in some sort of warp. In
fact, she climbs into herself. Freedom is represented by a
metaphysical transformation. She searches for healing and finds a
miracle.

What were some of the interesting things that happened in the course
of making this film? What did you discover about animation, filmmaking
and about your own craft?

It was enjoyable doing hand-drawn animation for the first time. The
amount of work as well as the meticulousness required forced us into a
state of lunacy; the hand went in a direction of its own. The freedom
to be rough in the sketches was exhilarating and we could build an
entire career out of this type of expression alone. Our own
understanding of the story was superseded and we ended up with
something more profound and revelatory. What was interesting was the
end result. We’ve received complements, awards, screenings from the
most unexpected of places. Several programmers have written to us with
specific praises for the film. Eric Khoo called us to tell us how much
he loved it. At the Cannes Film Market where it was shown, an American
distributor asked if we could turn it into a feature length film. If
there was one regret, it would be that in the animation, you can’t see
Faye's real face. She looks good on screen.



Have you already got a story to tell with the remaining 900 minutes of footages?

I’ve attempted several times to carve out more films from the
remaining footage. But somehow I feel satisfied with Libertas as the
culmination of our shoot. It sums up nicely what our entire philosophy
was at the time. All the collaborators were in one heart and mind
about its basic message. I like films that achieve a lot using very
little. Libertas falls into this category.

ShoutOUT! : Talk on The Value of Independent Filmmaking

Still from 13 Little Pictures' film 'I Have Loved' shown at this year's Singapore International Film Festival. Read our interview with the directors of this film here.

This Tues, 20th Sep at 7pm, come to The POD (Level 16) at the National Library for a talk titled 'The Value of Independent Filmmaking'. Independent filmmaking is the art of embracing limitations, working with available resources and making much with what one has. What are creative and financial responsibilities of filmmakers? How do one break free from the budget abyss? A panel of filmmakers from 13 Little Pictures will share their process and perspectives. To register, email writetous@siff.sg with ’13LP Talk’ as the subject heading.

Review: Tatsumi

“In recognizing the humanity of our fellow beings, we pay ourselves the highest tribute” Thurgood Marshall (1908-1993)

Each and every one of us has someone inspirational we want to pay tribute to. For acclaimed local director Eric Khoo, it’s Japanese artist Yoshihiro Tatsumi, an artist known for starting the gekiga style of alternative comics in Japan. Questioning why manga should be always be appealing and dreamy, the 76-year-old who coined the term “gekiga” redefined the manga landscape in 1957 by offering readers a genre of down-to-earth and unsettling comics.


It is not difficult to imagine Khoo being inspired by Tatsumi’s style of gekiga comics, considering how his previous works like Mee Pok Man (1995). 12 Storeys (1997), Be with Me (2005) and My Magic (2005) were all hypnotically sad and beautiful at the same time. For the first time, the Cultural Medallion recipient tries his hand at an animated feature, and the result is a mesmerizing memoir that is as inspirational as its subject.

Biographical films transport us into the worlds of people we may have only read about in newspaper reports and magazine articles. Here, the 96-minute production based on the 840-page manga memoir A Drifting Life gives us an insight into the life of Tatsumi, who began drawing as a comics artist in post-war occupied Japan, before being influenced by real life situations and inventing the gekiga genre of Japanese comics for adults. Tatsumi’s story is interwoven with segments based on five of his earlier short stories.


Each of these tales evoke a poignant sense of realism – Be it the horrifying truth behind a photograph in “Hell”, the eccentric relationship between man and monkey in “Beloved Monkey”, the pitiful journey of the protagonist in “Just a Man”, the lurid imageries in “Occupied”, or the bittersweet love story in “Good-bye”, these stories remind us of the harsh world we live in. Yet, there is something lyrically beautiful about these stark illustrations. These human conditions are affectingly painted on Tatsumi’s canvas and translated on screen by Khoo’s talent.

Featuring a wonderful voice performance by Tetsuya Bessho and emotionally moving music by Christopher Khoo (who was only 13 when he composed the music some two years back), this animated film has been selected as Singapore’s official entry for the Oscars. Audiences will be enthralled by the visual style of the film, which is kept tightly to Tatsumi’s original drawings. There are many magical moments which will leave you enthralled – watch out for one particularly stirring sequence where a young Tatsumi comes to a realization and floats in the serene night air, surrounded by gorgeous fireflies.


Above all, this film is a tale of inspiration which reminds each and every one of us what it’s like to be bathed in passion and love. Things may get us down in this bustling world we live in, but with a little imagination and a determination to pursue what you enjoy doing, the boundaries are limitless.

For those who have lost confidence in Singapore films, look no further than Khoo’s latest feature film. After a world premiere in the Un Certain Regard section at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, we are certain that it will continue putting Singapore on the international film map. This celebration of life is one well worth your time.

Written by John Li



Tatsumi is now showing exclusively at GV Vivocity and GV Plaza.

Let The Show Begin!

For the next 10 days, film lovers can look forward to an exciting lineup at the 24th Singapore International Film Festival. SINdie was at the screening of the opening film "Red Light Revolution" and we can't wait for things to start rolling!

Guests at a pre-screening reception

A promotional poster stands proudly outside the cinema hall

Festival founder/Chairman Geoffrey Malone delivers his opening address

Film fans awaiting the festival to kick off with "Red Light Revolution"

Stay tuned to this space and watch out for our reviews of local films screened at the festival in the upcoming days! Meanwhile, have fun at the festival!

Production Talk — ‘I Want to Remember’ by Sherman Ong

 

SYNOPSIS
A man in an interrogation room remembers his time with his lover when the two countries were one. When the countries separated in 1965, his lover ended their relationship to follow her family. He remembers his carefree past with laughter and tenderness, disappointments and sadness, but never with regret.

••••••••

Hi Sherman, we’re wondering: What spurred your recent interest in “dance films”? 

My interest in ‘dance films’ is actually not so recent.

I Want To Remember (IWTR) is my sixth dance film. I made my first dance film in 2002 – Exodus Wanita Yang Berlari – commissioned by the Indonesian Contemporary Dance Centre. Then I made 3 more dance films for Arts Central programme Destination Dance in 2005. Yuni Hadi was the Commissioning Editor then.

Between 2005 and 2010, there were no opportunities for me to make dance films but I have always liked contemporary dance.

My dance films over the last two years were commissioned by the Singapore Arts Festival. I have to thank Yuni, Tang Fukuen and Low Kee Hong for spearheading this dance film initiative.

We know this short film was primarily made for the Singapore Arts Festival. But what was the influence behind this piece? 
I was influenced by the overriding theme of the Arts Festival — “I Want to Remember” — which is also the title for my work, my personal experiences and also from research.

Why did you choose the premise of Singapore’s separation from Malaya? 

I felt it fits the theme of the Arts Festival, and I am also interested in our relationship with the past and with history, particularly how the separation has affected the lives of individuals on both sides of the Causeway.

I think the film deals with the past, and to be more precise, the memory of this past. It deals with different versions of History, as well as the personal histories of individuals who were powerless to go against the political tide of the times, resulting in a conflict between following one’s heart and the ideologies of that period. It is partly inspired by real events and individuals whose lives changed as a consequence of the events post-1965.

The work deals, among other issues, with shared histories and familial ties between the two countries where, if one were to dig far enough, every Singaporean has a link to Malaysia. For me, my grandfather came to Singapore before the separation. After Singapore and Malaya separated he became a Singaporean and now has another family here.

As a Malaysian, how do you relate to Singapore-made content, especially since you’re based here? 
I have lived here for more than half of my adult life. I had my education, and built my career, here. I am already a pseudo-Singaporean. But of course I still had to do extensive research before I started on scripting for this film.

 

Take us through how you pieced the production together – music, dance, narrative and all? 

It actually all began with the theme of the Arts Festival and my interest in the history between Singapore and Malaysia. When we watch annual National Day Parades we are always shown the iconic scene in which Lee Kuan Yew shed tears. I wanted to lift the veil of this iconic scene and ponder how the separation affected the common folks of both nations.

This prompted me to do some research on the matter, adding fictional elements along the way. Essentially, the film has been inspired by real events and provides a fictional composite of those events that took place pre- and post-separation.

MUSIC: I received an unsolicited email from John Chua (Bio: http://www.johncgh.com/jcvalcon/JCValcon_Studios.html), who eventually composed music for this film. I felt his music had the depth and breadth to support the story. We had a lot of initial discussions about various issues — religion, politics, musical influences, ideology etc. My reference to him was Joe Hisaishi, who had a long collaboration with Kitano.

DANCE: Lim How Ngean, a friend and dramaturg with the Singapore Arts Festival introduced some interesting dancers from the Fine Arts Academy (Aswara) in Malaysia. We made some contact and met up with Hanafi and Xinying to feel their vibes and determine whether they are suited for the film. Hanafi roped in four of his friends. In location-scouting, we eventually settled on Rimbun Dahan after recceing several locations. We also had a lot of help from Datin Marion D'Cruz and Joseph Gonzales, dance lecturers at Aswara, and from Bilqis Hijjas of MY Dance Alliance.

NARRATIVE: With Hanafi, we discussed Pina Bausch, Dv8, contemporary dance, butoh, silat and racial politics. Pina had a work using the music of Gershwin, The Man I Love. Her work was inspirational and became a jumping-off point for me. I think this film could be seen as a homage to Pina.

I then got in touch with Dato Rahim Razali, a well-known and respected Malaysian stage-and-screen actor. Singapore viewers might have seen him in Yasmin Ahmad’s Muallaf. I told him the part was written for him. I cannot make the film if he doesn’t agree. Luckily, he did.

I also asked Azharr Rudin to be my editor. The filmmaker behind This Longing, Azharr has also been editing most of Amir Muhamad’s films. He is part of production house 13 Little Pictures. Prior to this Kent Chan has been editing most of my films because he knows my style.

I sought contacts for collaborators from Malaysian filmmaker Edmund Yeo, and Fei Ling from Da Huang Pictures to act and line-produce the film.

This was how the core team is formed.

After the script was written, I needed a song to anchor the closing scene. Azharr commended a few local musicians, one of which was Azmyl Yunor (http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/song_details/3984066) whose song Lena (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtIHOU7mkmY&feature=watch_response) caught my attention. Incidentally, Fei Ling also knows him as he had made music for Tan Chui Mui’s Year Without A Summer (Berkelana).

What were some of the challenges you faced in making the film?Our lead dancer had a very bad cut, stepping on a bamboo splinter during the first scene we shot on the very first day of the shoot.

Also check out:
IWTR Trailer – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-Iu4yY3gRw
Find out more about the auteur here — http://www.vwfa.net/singaporesurvey2011/sherman.html#

Review: Singapore Short Cuts Day 1 & 2

Now in its eighth edition, the Singapore Shorts series, organized by the Substation's Moving Images programme, has carved out a reputation for itself as an important outlet to showcase outstanding short films. Whereas First Takes provides a constructive space for dialogue between neophyte filmmakers and film buffs, The annual Singapore Shorts programme seeks to showcase more cutting edge, polished work. We review a couple of shorts from Day 1 and 2 of the event. (Note: We realize this is being published a little late, sorry about that!)

The Impossibility of Knowing
Dir: Tan Pin Pin

Commissioned by DMZ Korean International Film Festival, Tan Pin Pin's The Impossibility of Knowing is an exploration of cinematic form and its limitations. Unlike the stage, where space is of paramount concern, dictating how actors move and how props are laid out, and where the energy of space is ever so volatile and erratic, film has inherent constraints when trying to 'capture' space. 3d technology, for all its much maligned reputation as a money-grabbing ploy on the part of studios, has helped to break new ground in possibilities of toying with space. But apart from that, how do you "capture the trauma" of a space?

Tan Pin Pin initially planned to set out shooting footage of places laden with trauma, where people there experienced emotional tribulation or were victims of the cruel games of fate, but she soon recognized the limitations of images itself; the places she shot on film remained mere locales - inanimate, unsentimental. The canal remained a canal, and the house,a house. But as the voice over plays out, the juxtaposition between the bleak, sinister happenings as narrated, and the seemingly sterile images of different places creates a disjunct that disorients the viewer. We are forced to confront the impossibility of knowing the history of a place just by the image of a place itself.

Almost counter-effective then, is Tan's use of a stoic, almost authoritative voice to narrate the different stories. It actually subverted the very idea Tan wanted to explore: if the image was so painfully limited in its power to inform a viewer, why then does sound here become an almost omniscient presence? The film, which actually plays out like Old Places (directed by Royston Tan, Victric Thng and Eva Tang) for Sylvia Plath-types, should have, like Old Places, used different voices for the voice-overs. While Old Places was apologetically nostalgic, it abandoned the use of an overarching narrator, and its usage of multiple narrators actually forced you to form your own understanding of the different places.

What Tan doesn't realize is the postmodern irony in its title (i.e. if knowing was truly impossible, it won't be possible to know that knowing is impossibile; the statement invalidates itself), and in being so sure of the film's central thesis, undermines the very points she was trying to make.

Snow City
Dir: Tan Pin Pin

I have to admit I liked Snow City a lot more than The Impossibility of Knowing. Even though Snow City, as Tan stated, is "an accidental film" formed from her random archive of Singapore scenes, it is surprisingly coherent.

Finding beauty in banality has become the hallmark of Tan Pin Pin (that we love), as evinced from such films like Invisible City, Moving House and Singapore GaGa, and here she uses the most mundane scenes to weave together a loving portrait of Singapore Life. As the title hints at, the film evokes the wonder and beauty of snow, and yet steeps itself in the realities of the city; it manages to be at once grounded and imaginative. It finds humour in the simplest things, like a foreign worker taking shelter from the sun under a makeshift canopy.

With Tan's unadorned visual style,Snow City gently earns your attention instead of demanding it. The film then cajoles us to find solace - even joy - in our imagination; it is, at heart, a film about the importance of seeing and perspective - that if we look hard enough, we can find beauty in anything.

Solitary Moon
Dir: Eva Tang

The film was birthed from a quote from celebrated American novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald, and "the resultant haiku of a short film" is poetic and deeply stirring. At the start, Tang makes the florescent lights dance seductively, the playful lights on the walls of glass teasing and inviting. Her eye for image here is impeccable. As the film quickly progresses, the lights become more sterile, enveloping lonesome white-collared figures. The music by Zai Kuning and Koichi Shimizu is remarkably well composed, not only being neatly congruent with the entire film in tone, but its periodic beats fitting in snugly with the cuts from scene to scene. (Very good editing!)

What's most impressive is that for all its ephemeral beauty, the two-minute long film doesn't succumb to glib sentimentalism. Tang deftly refrains from emotionalizing loneliness; she merely evokes that feeling. She manages to imbue a clear lyricism to Solitary Moon, and the result is a mesmerizing cinematic elegy.

Comfort
Dir: Afiq Omar

The brilliant, subtly funny Comfort is birthed forth from director Afiq Omar's desire to better understand the nature of his father's job through the film format; the film is a document of a day in the life of his taxi driver father. Omar spent an entire day in the seat of his dad's taxi, prodding him with questions, and along the way he manages to excavate trinkets of wisdom and nuggets of truth.

The film is first and foremost a documentary of his father's profession. Omar doesn't go as far as to plumb the depths of his dad's psyche, but film's main purpose is to give us an insight into the daily life of his dad and as the hardships faced by a taxi driver, and it does so in spades.

Comfort's brilliance (and conceit) lies in slyly playing up the multiple meanings of its title. On the most literal level, it refers to the taxi company the director's father works for, but the title also foregrounds the cruel irony of his dad's position: for someone who works for such a pleasantly named company, his is not an easy job, and involves much hard work. Yet he willingly puts up with his travails so that his son would be the one in comfort. The film is a loving ode to fathers and a grateful acknowledgement of the sacrifices made by them.

Whether Omar realizes it or not, he has created a film that metaphorizes the filmmaker-audience relationship; we are forced the entire film to take his very own view in the front seat of the taxi, and we never hear him speak. He takes the position of the audience through this, while his dad - just as the filmmaker does - tells his stories. He draws up a parallel between the filmmaker-audience relationship and the taxi driver-passenger one. His point being that just like the taxi driver-passenger relationship, the filmmaker-audience relationship goes both ways. They both need each other.

One Day I Forgot And Used My Hands
Dir: Charles Lim


The filmmaker accidentally reinvented filmmaking by using a camera without a lens and shooting with his hands blocking everything but a small gap. Camera obscura. A pure experiment on his part ends up looking a classic experimental film.

Well, the camera has always been seen as both a tool and an obstacle, and many directors lament over the lost-in-translation effect from vision to the actual shot footage. Here Lim presents the camera as something organic, as one with the director; it is no longer a mere tool, but it is a literal extension of the director (and vice versa). The lines between a director's vision (both imaginative and literal) and the mediated image are blurred, and in doing so Lim humanizes the camera; here it almost has a life of its own.

The film experiment harks back to a time when photography was more personal, and when celluloid was king; when images could not be easily mass produced and toyed with through myriad photo-editing programmes. The film is, hence, not merely a visual trance-out; it is also a walk down memory lane and an exercise in nostalgia.