Bee Thiam is recognisable by his prominent forehead and soft, calm spoken ways. His name surfaced in the film circles when the first Singapore Shorts DVD by the Asian Film Archive was launched in 2005. He was the Executive Director of the Asian Film Archive then. He stood out as a champion of local and Southeast Asian Film, promoting both appreciation and also intellectual discourse on these films. Under him, the Asian Film Archive also outgrew its role of simply being an archiving operation, it became an active voice in promoting Southeast Asian Film. He has since moved on to being on the actual film set itself with his role of as founder and producer of film collective '13 Little Pictures', that makes 'fiercely independent' films. In between, he is also a film lecturer, curator and is active in the Southeast Asian circuit of film critics. In LUNCHBOX 11, we get into the head (or forehead) of Bee Thiam of what he sees in himself, in films and in the current state of the film community.
Bee Thiam speaking on Singapore cinema's history at the Esplanade in 2011 as part of the Esplanade's 'Love Stories of Singapore' talk series
Again, speaking about Singapore's film heritage in his talk 'Understanding Singapore Cinema' also at the Esplanade in 2010
The ex-President SR Nathan presented with a token of appreciation by Bee Thiam at the Asian Film Archive's charity screening of 'Moon Over Malaya' in 2010
Jeremy: How long have you been in the film industry? Or
consider yourself to have been involved for?
Bee Thiam: How would you define the film industry?
J: I know in Singapore it is a bit difficult to draw the
line where the industry starts.
BT: Indeed. Perhaps the starting point can be when I first
start to make film.
J: Sure. That reminds me of an old website of yours I
chanced upon years ago which had you in much longer hair and it was about your
own films.
BT: (giggles) I have always been interested in film. But
access to a film camera until recently is a luxury. Therefore, I started in
photography to learn about the image. It was during my army days. I read and
think about the world as time passes me by.
J: What did you do in the army?
BT: I was in reconnaissance. It was also when I was in army
that I first got involved in production. I was the production manager for a NTU
student film called Liquid Dreams. When I was in NUS, I was roped in by the
founding team of nu(STUDIOS) – a film production group under NUS Centre for the
Arts. We were not formally trained in filmmaking and had lots of fun figuring
things out together. I directed my first film, Shelter, City of Forgetting, an adaptation of a short story by late
Dr Gopal Baratham. Kirsten Tan produced it. I was later elected Chairperson of
the group and enlisted Eric Khoo, Royston Tan and Kelvin Tong to be executive
producers of our short films and to mentor us. It was an exciting time for us
and we were very encouraged by the support we got from the industry.
J: From making your own short films to what you are doing currently, obviously you had a very different vision from the usual filmmakers. You see the need to do things beyond your own personal fulfillment. How did that come about?
BT: I did not set out to be a filmmaker. I am first and foremost a film lover. I want to help people more talented than I do make their films. If there is someone with a more urgent and compelling story to tell, I would like to get them heard too. Because when you love films, it does not matter who makes them. Even when it comes to my own practice, I like to make films for someone else. Shelter, for example, was made for Dr Baratham. When the short film was screened for Mrs Baratham, she recounted how her late husband told her the story when they were out for a stroll. It was a small way for me to thank Dr Baratham for his books that I read when I was growing up. Amir Muhammad commissioned me to direct Kopi Julia, a short film adaptation from a book series he published. The film that transpired was homage to the Malay horror films in 50s.
J: Do you think many filmmakers are indulgent?
BT: I can’t answer the question. Filmmaking for me is not so
much diary writing than letter writing. For someone special. When I make films,
I make them to give away. Naturally, I like to customize them for who I like to
give them to. Mostly, it is just for one person. And I think that is enough
audience for me.
J: I know you studied Engineering. Was it your choice or a
practical decision at that time?
BT: It was my choice.
J: Why did you choose Engineering?
BT: I was curious. I am interested in how images are formed
on light-sensitive materials, how video images are encoded and decoded so it
can be communicated from one phone to another, how an incomplete image can be restored
through algorithms. I am also interested in the history of films and in the business
of film. Outside of lecture theatres, I spent many hours in the NUS library,
watching and reading about films.
J: So when did you know you like films?
BT: Probably in secondary school when I was studying for
exams in front of Arts Central (laughs). I have fond memories of the old National
Library at Stamford Road. I watched Citizen
Kane and many other works in the multimedia section. I also remember the
laser disc Criterion collection in the basement Media Resource Centre in NUS
library. I love libraries, as much as I love films. There is something magical
in a public loaning system of ideas. You return what you have read and watch so
it continues to have a life beyond us. No one is privileged over another to
monopolize on the collection. Anyone who wants to learn can find something to
be inspired by. The abundance of a good library teaches its users to be
generous in spirit. There is enough to go round, let’s share and learn to live
together. An ideal society for me works like a library.
J: What made you decide to pursue film as a career?
BT: I never see film as a career. I just do what I like to
do. And thankfully, I have so far manage to make ends meet for my family and I.
My dad passed away when I was in the university. He was the sole breadwinner for
the longest time and so I had to quickly adapt and find work to do while studying.
I started company with a really good friend and we managed to bring some dough
back home each month. You’ll learn to survive. It’s human instinct.
J: How difficult was that chapter in your life?
BT: It was difficult and yet the most enriching. My family
has never been closer in the last 6 months before my dad passed away. I would fetch
my Mom on the motorbike my dad bought for me to visit him in the hospital. In
between classes, I would meet clients. It was a very fulfilling time. It taught
me about life, love and what really matters.
J: How big is your family?
BT: I have two siblings. I am sandwiched in between. My
sister is an aeronautical engineer and my brother is in IT.
J: You still close to your Mom now?
BT: Yes, we just went Korea together. I got her a Samsung
smartphone so she can facebook to check out pictures of her grandchildren.
J: You started the Asian Film Archive (AFA) after
university?
BT: I went on a backpacking trip after graduation. I wanted
to see the world outside of Singapore. My journey into the world of films is
dotted with many coincidences. India is such a huge country but it was there
that I bumped into Tsai Ming Liang and Lee Kang Sheng, along with many others
like Mohsen Makmalbaf and Uwei Haji Saari.
J: Was that your first close encounter with the film world?
BT: Since my army days, I have been going to the Singapore
International Film Festival. SIFF is an integral part of my film education. The
film programmes that Philip Cheah and his team put up were challenging and
inspiring. I was often at The Substation too. The Moving Image programme by Audrey,
Yuni and Wenjie was a helpful platform to connect me to the many budding
filmmakers at that time. That was before YouTube when people would make trips to
watch films and meet filmmakers. I saw some of Royston’s early student works
there. I also remember Audrey organizing film appreciation sessions and that
was when I first watched Taxidriver
by Martin Scorsese. I also remember Singapore Short Cuts where I showcased two
of my early short films. I remember a 2-hour conversation at kopitiam with
Michael Lee who came to see my film. These are precious memories for me.
J: I guess that answers my question of why you started AFA.
I can see the beginnings of AFA in your life.
BT: Life brings us where we are. Regarding AFA, a few
pivotal events happened before it started. My meeting Alexis (Tioseco) at the
first Association for Southeast Asian Cinemas conference, along with Khoo Gaik
Cheng and other folks. Spending a week with Tsai Ming Liang and Lee Kang Sheng
in India as their unofficial translator at a film festival. Tsai was easily
inspired by his environment and would show me things he scribbled. I then traveled
up north to Daramsala to visit the Dalai Lama.
J: The real Dalai Lama?
BT: Yes in north India.
J: Oh my goodness.
BT: I wanted to go to Kashmir too but on the day I was
supposed to take the bus, a bomb went off in the bus stop. I waited a few more
days and then diverted. After I came back, I wanted to re-edit Shelter. That was when I realized that
some of the footage had not been well kept. It led me to ponder about what
other filmmakers go through. So I started to research on film archives around
the world and find out how to start one. I started groundwork in 2004, speaking
to many people and organizations. While counting down to the start of 2005, I
decided to set up the Asian Film Archive formally. We were lucky to have four
kind and generous souls help form the board of directors and a group of
enthusiastic friends and strangers who step forward to volunteer. By the third
quarter of 2005, we receive enough funding to employ our first employee. It was
not me that I employ though.
I wrote quite a bit when I was backpacking in India. I wrote
on pieces of paper and I emailed people to share with them my experiences. One
of them was Alexis.
The first Association for Southeast Asian Cinemas Conference
in 2004 NUS influenced both of us deeply. It was the first time we met with a
larger community of scholars, filmmakers and curators who are interested in
Southeast Asian Cinemas. A very ground-up attempt by a group of people to do
something for the region. Around the same time I started the Archive, Alexis
started Criticine, an online film
magazine to elevate film discourse on Southeast Asian Cinema.
J: Were you and Ben Slater the only active (or even
hardcore) film academics or writers at that time? I mean I see you and Ben as
the first names that come to mind when it comes to writing thoroughly about
local films.
BT: I am not a film academic. But to answer your question,
there were a lot of other Singaporeans participating in the first conference
too. The chair was Professor Chua Beng Huat who was a great supporter of
younger scholars in the cultural cluster of Asia Research Institute (ARI).
Juan, Wenjie and Yuni were there too. The convener was Khoo Gaik Cheng, who was
a fellow with ARI then. Lav Diaz was supposed to attend but he gave his ticket
to Alexis instead, then a young film critic. And of course, there was Benjamin
Mckay from Australia whose PhD thesis was on P Ramlee.
We did not want the conference to be a one-off event. We also
did not wish for it to be confined to Singapore. So a core group of the
participants worked together and the conference travelled almost annually to a
new Southeast Asian city. In 2005, it was Bangkok, then Jakarta, Kuala Lumpur,
Manila and Ho Chi Minh.
J: There seems to be more people wanting to be filmmakers
than film writers or researchers. Does this worry you?
BT: There are also many new and talented writers, researchers
and curators. The folks from Perspectives Film Festival (NTU); Sinema Old
School - David (Lee), Rajesree, Sharon and others; Substation, there was
Kristin, BK and now Aishah; National Museum, there is Wenjie, Warren and now Zu
Boon; Singapore Art Museum, there is I-shan. At the Asian Film Archive, there
is Karen, who is a greater archivist and writer than I am. There was Ethan, Jean,
Pauline and now Tee Pao, not forgetting the many interns and volunteers who
continue to work in the arts today. In a heritage organization like an archive,
we work to ensure that things are passed on and that the people who succeed us
will do a better job than we would taking care of works of importance and
relevance to the future. I have seen many talented writers, researchers and
certainly archivists. It’s a pity we do not have enough jobs and opportunities
for them in Singapore.
J: Is there anyone who has inspired you in your journey so
far?
BT: There are a lot of people I draw inspiration and
strength from. There is Henri Langlois, founder of Cinémathèque Française way
back in the 30s. He was pioneering in what an archive has to do and can be. Some
people did not agree him but it was because of him, that many works remained;
he also birthed the French New Wave filmmakers, providing them their film
education. And there is Ozu Yasujiro, a master who teaches me so much about seasons,
patterns, life, its grace and disappointments. Jean Luc Godard, the greatest
living filmmaker today. Everything you need to know about cinema, you can learn
from watching his films.
J: What is it about his films that makes you say that?
BT: Because Le
Mepris. Because Pierrot le fou. Because Eloge de l'Amour (In Praise of Love).
Because Histoire(s) du cinema. He is a responsible filmmaker.
J: When you say responsibility, do you mean filmmakers have
a duty to present something that is worth-watching or people can learn something
from? Can you define it?
BT: The role of cinema extends beyond entertainment and moralistic
messages. Responsibility for me is when
one is given the privilege to the means of production, that one creates
something true and useful for the maker and his audience.
J: Is a responsible film is one that treats and understands
the subject adequately? I mean how about someone who treats the subject in a
different perhaps more indirect manner, using references and it may not be
totally accessible. But to the filmmaker, that is how he would like to see it.
BT: I would not set out to make something inaccessible. But if everything can be summarized into a one-sentence message, why make it into a film? If even the closest of friends can have misunderstandings, why should we assume a stranger in another part of the world would fully get what we mean? A film is not a Math problem. You do not need to understand or solve it. As a responsible filmmaker, I can only make it as honestly and as truthfully as I know how to, without second-guessing whether a random audience will get it. I can only say it, as if making a love confession, to someone special. All others, whom I may never know, are merely eavesdroppers, who may hopefully relate to the situation I am trying to describe.
J: I mean in a very typical Singaporean mindset, when you
say responsible film, it refers to a film that makes money for your investors.
BT: Of course, if you are taking money from someone who
expects some kind of returns, you should fulfill that part of your obligation. In the same vein, I always tell filmmakers not to take money
they are not meant to receive. Don't take money just because it is available.
Funding is sometimes the worst form of censorship. Do not make a certain kind
of film just because there is funding to make this certain kind of film.
Financial responsibility is also making the best of whatever resources you have
at hand without getting other people to have to deal with your liabilities. It
is easy to get carried away and pack a project with more resources than you
need to assuage your insecurities. I feel that is not being responsible. I
think we should always be conscious too that there are people, apart from the
directors and producers, who have invested time and emotions to a project. To
me, the filmmakers include the writer, assistant directors, director of
photography, camera assistants, gaffer, grip, art director, stylist, makeup
artist, editor, sound recordist, audio engineer, music composer, production
assistants, actors, extras… all who make a film possible. Let us not
overemphasize the auteur as if he can work without others. The time and work
put in by underpaid crew and cast in Singapore film need to be addressed too.
We need to recognize their ‘investment’ as well.
J: You are always so composed and calm. Do you have any
fears in your life?
BT: Sometimes I fear that I am not doing enough as a son, as
a brother, as a friend.
J: Is it because you are not spending enough time?
BT: It is not. I think one of the most precious things you
can give another person is attention. I like to spend time with people who mean
a lot to me. But I fear they may still think I am not giving them enough
attention.
J: I want to pick your brains about the film movement in
Singapore. About 5 years ago, with the Lucky Seven Project started by Sun Koh,
I saw the coming together of filmmakers collaborating in a way closer than
never before. That probably also seeded the momentum in new filmmakers like
Daniel Hui leading to the formation of 13 Little Pictures. Where do you see the
movement now?
BT: A lot of ‘movements’ in the history of cinema are mere
labels for publicity. I prefer to focus on the works that are produced. Are
distinctly different from those made before? How and why do they depart from
the traditions? Yes there have been filmmakers consistently making new and
exciting works in recent years, many unfortunately are not getting much
publicity; some only until recently. I like the new works of Charles (Lim) and
Tzu Nyen. There are quite a number of student works from ADM, LaSalle and Tisch
that I find promising. They are no longer about the nostalgia and melancholy;
they are more urgent, ingenious and empowering. I think 2008 is a landmark year
- filmmakers are no longer just making short films or omnibuses but full-length
feature works. That is an achievement.
J: Where do you think the filmmaking movement or the current
scene is going now? I mean, so many people, not usually in the scene are making
films like actors for instance. Is it moving in a promising direction?
BT: Anyone who can muster the resources to make a film
he/she really wants to make, should just do so. Don't let anyone stop you from
believing you are able to make your films. As long as you do not harm anyone in
the process. It does not matter whether the filmmaker is an actor, actress,
radio deejay or a TV director. Are short filmmakers who have made short
filmmakers more qualified to make feature films? No. How many short films did
Jack Neo make? Yet today, he is the most commercially successful filmmaker in
Singapore. Whether I like or dislike a film; whether I agree or disagree with
how a film is made, is inconsequential. In all honesty, I think there is a film
for everyone in the world. It’s like love – we are not looking for perfection
but connection. For us to grow and sustain the filmmaking culture in Singapore,
we afford to be more encouraging and collegial. For us to have quality films, we
need to have enough people making works. Only when there is volume, can we have
an industry. Look at Iran and Taiwan. There are gems coming out from these
places. They do not make 1 film and there is 1 gem. They make 100 films and
there are a few gems. The other 99 films need to be made even though they turn
out bad because we learn by doing and by making mistakes.
J: Name me one mistake you made.
BT: I wanted to visit the Burning Man Festival in 2002 when
I was in the states for exchange. It is an annual week-long arts event at Black
Rock City, U.S. Every year, there are about 50,000 people who would gather
there in the middle of the desert. None of my friends was interested to join
me. I thought about it for a few days and decided to drive six hours on my own
to the venue. I should have gone myself right from the beginning. I learn to be
not afraid to walk alone, even though the path might be new and unfamiliar. For
you will find another community of 50,000 strangers at the end of that journey.
J: Finally, would you starve for the sake of art?
BT: I would starve for anything that I believe in. Do I believe in art? (pause) I think I do. I believe in sacrifice. The extent you are willing to sacrifice for your passion shows how it matters to you. So the more accurate question to ask might be, how many days would I starve for art?
At TEDxYouth@Singapore in 2011, Bee Thaim speaks about why we make movies
