Before August ends, take a trip down with us through memory lane as we briefly discuss four National Day song videos from the years past. It's a continuing struggle for local filmmakers to find non-generic themes, images and stories that bind, represent and move us, so it's with this in mind that we turn to each of these official videos, looking out for what catches our eye, what works for us and what doesn't.

Continued from Part 1!



Colin: 2009 marked what seems to be a new turn in the NDP theme songs, involving the commission of local singer-songwriters to perform their own self-written pieces. The first of these was pop rock band Electrico's "What Do You See". While I like this new approach to the NDP songs in the sense that they feel less committee-decreed, I find this inaugural attempt to be a mere rehash of tired expressions of possibilities ("future is an open book", "sail the seven seas", "climb the highest mountain").

Its music video is a different matter. While it is "individualistic" as you have noted, Jeremy, in the sense that it follows the MV trope of following the singer around, I love that it captures a Singapore that is so night-drenched. Has there been an NDP video before this one that spent most of its time in the dark? This makes for some unintentionally funny lyrics ("Look around at our faces, they shine brightly in the sun"), and there is a predictable lead-in to sunrise. But it also unearths some beautiful images, like the reflection of the bay waters shimmering on the underside of the Esplanade Drive bridge.

Raymond: I think Colin has pointed out most of the things I love about the video. I like that we get to see Singapore in the night, and the result is actually quite a sight to behold. I like the concept of showing Singapore during different times of the day, from the night to the day; I think it might have some metaphorical meaning to it - our dreams finally getting to see the light of day and eventually coming to pass.

I think this video will appeal to the Gen X and Gen Y people, just because of its celebration of the individual rather than the usual focus on families that was common to previous NDP videos. Some of the shots in these videos are just of young couples of a bunch of young friends having fun, chilling out together at Marina Barrage - which is also a popular hangout spot among the youths.

Jeremy: This song is inherently difficult to fit into the NDP scheme of things. You can't really sway or sing to it as a finale at NDP. But on its own, it appeals to my testosterone and actually inspires me. I like the fact that the video does not try too hard and the images are not too agenda-driven. It basically features the singer most of the time just singing to the camera with the occasional cutaways. While keeping most things naturalistic, there are a couple of surreal moments as well to give the video a bit of needed detraction. Two such moments include the crowd walking in slow motion up the Marina Barrage and him catching the mike as it is tossed in the air.

However... something is not quite right when you examine the spirit of the visuals and the lyrics. Colin, you have rightly pointed out that some of the lyrics are indeed lame and unintentionally funny. In fact, without the swaggering tune, the lyrics sound occasionally 'hao lian' (show-offy). And several phrases don't carry much meaning, which sound weird when they are supposed to be sung with a BIG attitude.

Finally, with one concrete show piece every year, one wonders if the screenwriters are being lazy and have resorted to a formula.



Colin: Would you say this of "Song for Singapore", this year's National Day theme song written and performed by Corrinne May? The story told by the video's montage is fairly simple, following a girl who grows up to fulfill her childhood ambition to become a music teacher. But I quite like the way that its motifs are developed, such as how her music teacher inspires her to the same calling (but from him in a classroom with blackboard, to her in a full-scale auditorium), and how her supportive father continues to fetch her home (from school on a bicycle, and then from work in a car).

The chief draw here is our interest in its human story, of a private dream harboured and fulfilled (with the tangential fact that she's teaching a National Day song at the end). So I object to to the more crude pairings of some overly public images with their lyrics, notably: NSFs carrying blank targetboards ("sometimes the best things are taken for granted") and various skyscrapers in the CBD ("with every generation, there's more to be grateful for"). To be fair, one of the most effective images in this video for me is about economic progress, but it manages to be succinct and original. Namely, the quick dissolve from our present-day city skyline (a standard icon) to our less-developed skyline of the past (sneaky reversal!). Because it's so fast, and leads us into the flashback story, it feels less preachy about the very aspects of Singapore that I presume most Singaporeans feel only impersonally about when we are being nationalistic.

Raymond: A point I wish to bring up is that I am doubtful how many children actually aspire to be a music teacher. A teacher yes, but I'm rather convinced most children who are interested in music would want to be a professional musician, not a music teacher. I may be nitpicking here, but the video really does give the impression that education is revered in Singapore; on the flip side, it may be perpetuating the stereotype that 'those who can't do, teach'. I find it a rather odd choice of a dream.

Also, I think sometimes less is more and that is certainly the case with 'Home' (still one of the best NDP songs and videos ever). The thing is that the story for the video of 'Song for Singapore' is so generic and even bland, and the link between the public/social context of the video and the tale of personal achievement of the female protaganist in question is tenuous and contrived.

Jeremy: Indeed, a friend of mine reacted to the string of past National Day videos that we posted and said how much he misses some of the older videos that keep the messages simple like appreciating home (like in “Home”) or loving your brothers and sisters. The agenda of showcasing that we are Number One in this and that’s seem to be more and more salient in the recent ones. The laughable and “epic-like” 2007 video “Will You?” is like Singaporeans in some “Great Leap Forward” campaign. The 2009 one with Electrico again, tells us to open our eyes up to the changing Singapore skyline. This 2010 version appears warm and personal at first glance but it doesn’t take long for one to realize that the “agenda” creeps back again and the CGI imposition of the Singapore flag on various landmarks is rather in-your-face, don’t you think? In fact, I would even go a step forward to say the Corrine May’s coming-of-age story feels too generically treated. It could be any singer’s story, which really doesn’t add any value to the video.

Before August ends, take a trip down with us through memory lane as we briefly discuss four of the most recent National Day song videos. It's a continuing struggle for local filmmakers to find non-generic themes, images and stories that bind, represent and move us, so it's with this in mind that we turn to each of these videos, looking out for what catches our eye, what works for us and what doesn't.



Jeremy: Everyone remembers how Gani (the singer in shades) swaggered through the streets with hordes of office men behind him as an entourage. I felt it made the effort to be different... though sometimes to unintended hilarity.

Colin: Well, it does try for a larger cross-section of places (and "representative people") than this sort of video tends to go for: schools, kindergartens, the National Stadium, some non-discreet ethnic gathering, shipyards, HDB blocks, office buildings. But it might have been less unintentionally funny if it weren't clear that these were just grinning extras trailing behind the lead singers in each locale. Perhaps if they'd all been singing, there'd be a greater sense of "community".

Raymond: Like what Colin said, I agree that it does go for a larger cross section of places and it is a very inclusive video, showcasing people from all different walks of life. I thought it did a very good job in portraying the family feeling of Singapore, that we're all one despite our different backgrounds. But I wish that for a song exhorting the individual to make a difference, there can be a more individualistic spin towards it. I mean, I know it is a National Day video, and ultimately it is supposed to unite different groups. But I wish there could have been a balance in the video, maybe showing different individuals at work or something, then cutting to the groups walking together.

Jeremy: Didn't they? There was an old couple, the three girls in tudungs, the Chinese wayang girl — all such a relief from the “workforce armies”...

Raymond: But they weren't really doing anything in the video, just sitting around. How to make a difference like that you tell me? At least in the group shots we see their career types and we know their backgrounds so we know what they are doing to “make a difference”.

Colin: Jeremy, your “workforce armies” is such an apt term, pointing out exactly what rings false for me in this video. The sight of huge swathes of similarly dressed people striding after a leader recalls protest marches, which are such a foreign concept to Singaporeans that it's weird even when it's repurposed for nationalistic aims.

Jeremy: Even so, I must say it is quite a daring video, given that the chances of it being slammed were great. Overall, I have a love-hate relationship with it, more love actually because it is incredibly cheesy. So cheesy, it's entertaining! And I will always remember the shot in which the workers are rushing down the stairs of a building, looking like they are performing a fire drill, haha!



Raymond: Well, unlike "Will You", I have to say the cheesiness of 2008's "Shine for Singapore" does not work for it... like the stars falling while Hady Mirza was singing. Just lame and tacky! While I think it is refreshing to try to incorporate a pseudo love story into the video, I don't see how it is congruent to the rest of the video, and I don't see how it complements the lyrics in any way... unless it is trying to say that falling in love and making babies is a way to shine for Singapore. Okay yeah, I forgot that's our national duty. Patriotism demands of us to bear lots of children =)

Colin: See, my issue with "Shine for Singapore" lies solely in the lazily edited-in cuts of Hady singing, because the video was obviously conceived as a narrative montage. And an innovative one, considering it actually tries for a more plaintive mood than we're used to in NDP videos.

Jeremy: Yeah, the studio shot look of Hady standing amidst the floating stars look shoddily put together. I remember the '07, '08 periods were times when a lot of prominent filmmakers began to have opportunities to shoot national videos like these so I am not surprised with the storyline. It is certainly a nice change and it has a more personal feel as well. The only 'but' is that it is forgettable.

Raymond: Maybe if they just totally didn't include shots of Hady Mirza and included in more “mini narratives”, it could have been a really good ND video.

Jeremy: Perhaps they ran out of budget. Yeah, mini narratives to complete the 'human' aspects of the Singapore-scape instead of the usual concrete will be good. One more thing I don’t like - the very sanitised look of Singapore. It looks totally choreographed - pastel white walls, light-coloured clothing, plenty of close-ups so not a lot of the scenery outside is revealed. Anyway, I am very glad they tried the 'individualistic' style again in 2009 and it worked nicely for me.

Stay tuned for Part 2, as we roll over into the most recent National Day videos!

The 7th edition of the recent Singapore Short Cuts featured a retrospective of local filmmaker K. Rajagopal. 4 of his films - I Can't Sleep Tonight (1995), The Glare (1996), Absence (1997) and Brother (1997) - will be reviewed in this article, while The New World and Timeless - which were made after he broke out of his 10-year hiatus - will be reviewed in a separate article.

Set in the heart of Little India, I Can't Sleep Tonight tells of three individuals - all on the run for various reasons - and how their paths cross one night when the police close in. These displaced individuals, may be strangers to each other but they share one thing: they are all sleepless at night because they live in fear of being caught, and they are constantly yearning for home. When these three individuals eventually meet at a common area while on the run from the police, they silently show their solidarity and find solace in each other. For one night, they are each others' home and when the day breaks they all go their separate ways.

The film is almost devoid of any dialogue, choosing to employ a haunting voiceover that is assisted with stark, bleak images of the three different individuals. Even though some of the shots aren't very polished, with the occasional shaky shot and poor lighting, these are minor faults and understandable since K. Rajagopal was working within tight constraints. He freely admitted during the post screening discussion that back then he lacked technical knowledge and was learning from the process of filming itself. Thankfully, I do think the shaky camerawork and poor lighting do lend themselves to the docu-drama feel of the film and make the film feel more authentic.

The Glare tells the story of a woman who, faced with the harsh reality of an abusive drunkard husband, frequently escapes into her own fantastical world inspired by the television programmes she watches on television everyday. Squatting outside an electronics store everyday to watch programmes screened on the televisions on display, the irritated store owner eventually gives the woman a television set for free. The elated woman is shown celebrating in a wonderfully quirky and whimsical scene. One day, her drunkard husband finds out about the television set and destroys it, and the woman, now devoid of her fantasy outlet and unable to escape to her own little world, eventually goes out of her mind.

The woman is shut down, barely talking to anyone. She appears listless and submissive to her abusive husband. She works hard to support her child, as well as her good-for-nothing husband. She faces racial discrimination. Nothing seems to be going well for her.

There is one element in the film that redeems this landscape of despair. It is the dreams and hope of a woman. A woman - despite having no reason to be optimistic about life, and should have otherwise morphed into a cruel, bitter person - who shows extraordinary hope despite the oppressing circumstances she faces. These are wonderfully shown in kooky, hilarious (day)dream sequences where the woman transposes herself into the situation of characters in the television programmes she watches.

On the other hand, the film also, in a rather self reflexive way, warns of the dangers of obsession with the media and television. From the get go we see the stark image of the woman, already out of her mind, in a trance like state. This bleak shot is once again played out at the end. Despite the few moments of respite of hope we get in an otherwise dark film, K. Rajagopal cleverly makes it clear from the start that Hollywood type endings are not going to happen in this film. We sympathize with the woman because we know despite her strength and her hope, hers is ultimately a story of tragedy. Rajagopal deftly hits a home run in sending out a brutally honest message to us: we can (and should)have dreams, but we still need to live our lives in the real world and not have our heads in the clouds all the time.

In Absence, a young man comes to terms with issues in his past as he and his mother cope with the loss of their patriarch. He chooses to express himself with art, while his mother finds solace in religion. Both of them have skeletons in their closet, however, and ultimately this secret will both unite and tear them apart.

Compared to the previous 2 films, Absence shows much more polish in its technical aspects and features some absolutely stunning cinematography. The rain sequence featuring a man bathing struck me as particularly memorable.

Ultimately, the film explores the clash between freedom and obligation, and between modernity and tradition with a deft and sensitive treatment. The film basically oscillates between shots of the mother and the son for the first half of the film, tracking the contrast in the ways they cope with the death of the young man's father. In this day and age, the characters may seem to be too caricatured and perhaps the metaphor of art as freedom a little too cliched, but back in 1997 when this was filmed I believed it captured the zeitgeist of its time and the pain of families torn apart by differences in mindsets.

Brother tells of an unlikely friendship forged by two individuals: Ganga, an illegal immigrant, and Richard, a seemingly middle class working man. Put together by unlikely circumstances, their friendship grows deeper and they spend more time together. However, just as the film reaches its climax, tragedy ensues for this precarious friendship as Richard is forced to choose between the two very different worlds that each of them inhabits.

K. Rajagopal deftly injects much humour and masculine intimacy into the friendship between Richard and Ganga, tapping into the cultural habits of Indian males, and the product is a surprisingly tender, moving piece. The sudden climactic end works well in highlighting the tragic nature of the friendship, where circumstances are too strong to overcome and ultimately work to pry two people apart. Despite the sad ending, the film manages to steer clear of overwrought melodrama. K. Rajagopal shows much self assurance with this film, choosing to take a slow, steady pace with the film, capturing the little joys of a burgeoning friendship in a gentle and affecting manner. I felt that some of the shots were they happened to accidentally bump into each other at various locations were too contrived, but ultimately they do not take too much from the authenticity of the film, because the characters are believable and also commands our sympathy.

These four films, which are markedly different from K. Rajagopal's two newer ones (which will be reviewed later), are deeply inspired by situations and events he has witnessed in real life. While the films may not be sophisticated in its form, they have an authenticity that is undeniable and a poignancy that is raw and affecting. The first two films had some technical shoddiness that made some shots disorienting to watch (K. Rajagopal was charmingly self-deprecating and admitted he was still learning the ropes back then), but I thought Absence and Brother were much more technically competent. His earlier films may not be as polished as his later works, or even the student works of this day, but I find these films a breath of fresh air from the barrage of short films I watch these days because of its unpretentious qualities and minimalism. In these earlier films, K. Rajagopal keeps to his narrative and tells his stories with conviction, capturing the rawness and emotion the actors bring to his smart scripts. Even back then, during his initial foray in film making, he does not get sucked into the trappings of arthouse cinema, of which many amateur filmmakers are guilty off. His films have a plainness and minimalism that preserves their rawness and sensitivity, and does not include the redundant 'artsy' shots that punctuate so many amateur filmmaker's works. His is local narrative cinema at its best.

At Wawa pictures, we ambushed Han Yew Kwang and Leonard Lai.

Feels like Chinese New Year when you are visiting so many different houses in a day. Jie Kai gives the most serious answer of the lot.

Caught in the shopping mall were Looi Wan Ping and Daniel Hui.

Caught in the rain were us! Stuck in the car, we took the opportunity to enjoy our McDonald's lunch while listening to the soothing rain drops.

'I should be paid for this product endorsement!'

We were all waiting to be star struck at the beautiful house of the man who made 'The Blue Mansion'

Glen's answers was as loud as his floral preeeenz.

Kelvin Sng looks like he is going to market in the middle of Orchard with his signature 'relaxed' attire!

The usually wacky Wesley Leon gets serious in front of the camera.

Fixing our shop sign

Shu Ming makes a statement at Hong Lim Park.

More photos on SINdie's FB group

Before August ends, take a trip down with us through memory lane and look at a special set of videos. These videos have been around since 1985 and are influential in the way they have shaped our perception of ourselves, the places, the people and the systems around us. In some years, they have been a source of pride, in others, a source of embarrassment. In most years, they glamorised Singapore, in other more enlightened years, they humanised Singapore.

They are our national day music videos that invade our screens every July till National Day. No piece of media has more reach than these videos. Not even our Singapore films.

Over the years, these videos have had their fair share of makeovers and extreme makeovers. Yet, as the videos get fancier, the viewers gets lesser. Gone are the days when when we used to anticipate the first broadcast of that year's national day music video. TV Mobile and the office lift TVs brought a mini revival of viewership but that's spoon-feeding us.

Have they lost their lustre? Can they get any more different in the future? SINdie's Ultimate National Day Video Project seeks to find the answers from the people who will have a hand in shaping national icons - our filmmakers. As the dust on NDP 2010 settles, follow us on our journey to search for the answers to what makes a good National Day music video.

Our journey here starts in 1985...

Straddling between a personal attempt to experiment with the fine lines between reality and film and a tribute to Andrei Tarkovsky (whether intentional or not), Daniel Hui takes one step further in questioning the cinematic art form in his films. 'One Day in June' follows the semi-conscious journey of a female character trying to re-acquaint herself with her immediate and original surroundings. She has just returned from a trip (apparently a long one) in Europe and is experiencing some kind of a mental dislocation from her old premises.

Vel Ng, who plays the character, listlessly ambles around her house and neighbourhood, like a zombie. From the opening clue of her trying to identify a stranger whom she had a missed connection with, we know she is searching for an answer. But also not, given her nonchalance about it. If none of it makes sense, perhaps the Q & A after offered a clue - the film explores Vel, the real person behind the character, touching and feeling her real origins again, hearing the ambience of her flat, soaking in the whizzing action of the roadside traffic and even remembering where her mum put the coffee powder.
Rather than engage you, the film is like a subliminal drone of the radio you hear when your tuner is in between the right frequencies. With its long shots, discrete soundtrack and deliberately prolonged moments of silence, it is pitched to work on your sub-conscious mind. However, the emptiness of the character and the lack of any establishment makes it hard to appreciate the film beyond just being structurally and conceptually beautiful. It is a pity because it is very confident in its cinematographic style. But 'One Day in June' is not futile in its attempt to reinvent something. Drawing a parallel with that red ball that drifted into a 'new' scene, the film has a niche in being able to make you pay attention to visual patterns and cinematic form, dissected from the heaviness of a typical narrative.

The biggest challenge of this film is to make the staid concrete HDB landscape look picturesque. Urban jungles can be stunning geometrically and evoke certain feelings of grandeur or lust or adventure of even thrill. The most exciting attribute I can allude to HDB landscape is it can be political, esepcially if shot from a helicopter's point of view and you see the militant rows of flats appear like camps. Maybe I am drifting but what this film with troublesome title (let's call it WTEOWIAS) has to contend with is how boring the background looks.

Never mind the graceful interpretations of everyday situations like family tensions and love, the cell-like confines of their places stands out as a fourth character. While the effort put into the choreography is palpable and it is even entertaining to see how little tensions at the dinner table like fighting for a chicken drumstick can be stylised, the cinematography does not always hit the right keys. Sometimes, it reinterprets the space in a surprising manner, sometimes it just looks like it is playing catch up with the choreography. There are also moments when the camera does not do much and the choreography takes centrestage and the movements are laid bare there, to delightfully comical effects.
In a way, the dancer's physical attributes contribute to the visual relief of the film. Quik Swee Boon, with his fine features and dramatically wavy mane makes him stand out from the grey confines of the flat. This is accompanied by the pristinely beautiful Xiao Jing, whose looks scream 'China Beauty'. It is also hard to forget the Chinese song that is serenaded over some entire dance sequences. Top of mind, it is haunting and evocative, but when it is juxtaposed against the longing face of Xiao Jing, I forget the character she plays and imagine her thinking about her real home in China especially when the camera zooms in on her gleamy eyes. In a way, she is a very displaced character who is trying to fit into the landscape and also the narrative of her being the father's new wife. But I would also see this extending to her personifying the general sense of displacement in the whole dramatic set-up of three unlikely family members coming together to share familiar moments.

'Baju' means clothing in Malay. But among the modern day Malay gangsters, it has come to mean something else - something that is still suggestive of having a layer over your body. And this is where the film has a subtle and quietly wise way of unveiling the specific meaning of the word in it context. It allows even non-Malay speaking viewers to appreciate the varied layers of the word 'Baju' without needing to define it clearly or specifically as a tattoo.

While it is easy to showcase raw, visceral energy in the world of gangs, it is less easy to offer an alternative angle that makes you see something poetic in the most barbaric of moments. In Baju, two men from rival gangs are enlisted into national service. Already the establishment of their rivalry and the slow build up of their hostile mutual glances makes it easy to guess what to expect next. In fact, when it cuts the shower room after the bottled-up tension in the hair-shaving scene, you somehow expect the cliche of the bathroom beat-up to happen. The fight did happen but it went off in a surprising track. It was graphic and the actors had to almost do it for real with little to hide due to the choice of a wide shot. Two belligerent (and completely nude) men wrestled on a wet toilet floor - somehow amounting to an accidental aesthetic.

While the film created a little visual niche for itself, it could put in more thought into the storytelling. Like many local gangster short films, it focussed on the muscle more than the mind - almost too keen to showcase a fight. It could use more context building and character development to add dimension to a largely linear presentation of brawn (and butt!). The grainy handphone videos of the gangs that opened the film was also a weak excuse for visual variation and seems independent of the film which could stand alone.

By the way, why is this film M18 when we could all see that part of the male anatomy?

Synopsis

Wen is a housewife disenchanted with her marriage. Taking on a job as a chambermaid, she seeks to find the human connection she so desires. When a new guest Bryan checks into the hotel, he brings with him the baggage of his recent divorce. Slowly, a bond begins to form between the two characters as they take turns to inhabit Bryan's hotel room -- Bryan dealing with the loss at night by watching his own motivational videos, and Wen finding out more about Bryan as she cleans up after him in the day. An exchange of notes sparks off a mutual attraction, leading to a moral dilemma as their relationship threatens Wen's marriage.


What is your inspiration behind 'Hello Goodbye'? It seems a little surreal that the woman would be taking up that in our context.

The idea came from my stay in a Vancouver hotel while traveling. Every day, the chambermaid would leave a card with her name on the vanity. This struck me as odd, and I could only surmise it allowed guests to leave a tip for the right person. At the same time, this name added a personality to the otherwise nameless room cleaning service. A series of what-ifs began to surface; what if I met the chambermaid with that nametag in the corridor? What if something went missing from my room? Would I be able to trace it down to the named chambermaid?

Soon, a story about exchanges in the hotel room started forming in my head. Add that on to my interest in the deterioration of interpersonal relationships and effective communication due to the use of technology in our society today, you get ‘Hello, Goodbye’.

The premise of the female character has been exaggerated. Her longing for the human connection (which she is unable to receive in her marriage) leads her to look for a job dealing with people. Yet there is a shy side to her character which prevents her from directly interacting with the hotel guests. The domestic nature of the job was my externalization of the role she plays in the marriage (docile, always enduring).


The film's got traces of some foreign/Hollywood films I have watched. Are there any influences in this film?

Definitely. I was heavily influenced by films like Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola, 2003), In The Mood For Love (Wong Kar Wai, 2000), Last Life In The Universe (Pen-Ek Ratanaruang, 2003) and the Italian film The Consequences of Love (Paolo Sorrentino, 2004). The common thread running through these films is the anomie of the human spirit.

In fact, I secretly wished for my film to be a homage and side-story of the unexplained interaction between the chambermaid and the hotel guest in The Consequences of Love, which was never developed in that film. My initial development of the characters actually referenced the film quite a bit, but my story took on a whole new dimension of its own later on in the development process, thanks to my co-writer Kun Lei. We initially planned for four characters but very quickly narrowed it down to two key players, resulting in a tighter plot. We also referenced Lost in Translation and Last Life in The Universe for building up the tension between the two characters, keeping a strong amount of attraction but not crossing the line into intimacy.

My director of photography, Jonathan, was also heavily influenced by the camerawork in Tony Takitani (Jun Ichikawa, 2004), where the wide shots enhanced the loneliness of the protagonist. Space was a key element in the framing of the shots in order to externalize the emotions of the characters without much dialogue. Influenced by works of Taiwanese directors like Tsai Ming-Liang and Hou Hsiao-Hsein, Jonathan seeked to sculpt the locations into a third character.

Who are your favourite directors? What are your favourite genres?

I have no favourites at this point in time. I believe each director has his or her own style that deserves a look into. But I do like a good, clever movie with a solid storyline and acute camerawork that serves the story. That being said, my current occupation is with music videos since they are a fairly duration-sensitive medium that relies on a poignant story told within a very short span of time, running either parallel to or subverting the lyrics of the song -- Visual storytelling at its finest.



Take us through some of the challenges in making this film

It was my first time directing and coordinating a production with this much production value. Besides handling the stress of managing a crew of 12-15, this was my first time working with two professional actors who each brought with them their own styles and habits. That being said it was a incredibly enriching and humbling experience working with all the professionals on set.

Finding the initial budget was also a problem, since we had decided to shoot on 16mm film. We also had to secure the locations for the shoot like the hotel rooms and corridors. The original shoot had to be postponed from December to January to accommodate for the peak tourist season, where the hotel loaning us the locations would be heavily packed with guests.

After some technical problems with the camera midway through the shoot, we had to organize a reshoot. With limited time and budget on our hands, we had to exercise prudence and economy with the pick-ups, besides coordinating the (by then horribly packed) schedules of cast, crew and locations.



Any interesting things happened during the shoot?

We realized after the initial reconnaissance trips that there was never going to be a hotel room that fit the bill (and offer us enough space to execute the long shots we required). After discussion with the producer, director of photographer, and production designer, we came up with a plan to build a whole hotel room in our school’s sound stage, complete with a mobile fourth wall.

The fun part was getting the hotel furniture for the set in order to maintain continuity between the corridor and the interior décor. We scouted around Singapore looking for places which sold second-hand hotel furniture, trying to find the exact look (and period pieces) reminiscent of a 80’s hotel in Singapore. Arguments about how the phone and guestbook should look, how the teacups and hot water dispensers should be styled came about, but in the end they were hardly featured. I guess that spoke a lot about the dedication of our crew in caring for details and making it picture-perfect.

We also took pains to modify some of the furniture we found and bought to give them extra realism and credibility. Goodness knows how long the crew spent polishing the brass handles on the wardrobes and bedside tables in order to give them that extra shine, after the initial base coat of paint and lacquer we gave the furniture. It really felt like we were preparing for an IKEA product shoot! I am really glad the hotel room turned out fabulous in the film, our hard work really paid off.

Read more about the film here

Nelson's taken a leap in his execution and vision with Nobody's Home. He's had a few short films going around between First Takes and other one-off screening events but none were confident in their execution as this one. The premise is an obvious long shot - Western genre in a HDB setting. What on earth does the HDB-scape have that is inspired heroism, courage, dare-devil acts and the swashbuckling spirit of a cowboy? What then appears at first glance to me is two Ah Bengs dealing with money under the table while drifting in and out of staircases and void decks. But on hindsight, I though it was quite ingenious of Nelson to reinterpret the Ah Beng into a cowboy parallel. Having said that, none of it would have been effective if not for its thoughtful and well-designed cinematography. Moving shots punctuated with appropriate pauses, clever play with spaces and a wise choice of Queenstown (the abandoned part) all added to its visual aesthetic.

We complete August's short film marathon with the 6th Singapore Short Film Festival. This year's selection is a real bumper edition. The festival spans a whole gamut of genres and contains several special features by country and by genre.

This year’s highlights include Young Love, a collection of films exploring the butterflies in the stomach to the gut wrenching anguish of heartbreak; Horizons, films transcending the usual borders of space, nature and time; and The Kids Aren’t Alright, films that speak of the psyche behind children, adolescents and youths of today. Also included is the S-Express traveling short film series, featuring works by Asian film talents from around the region. Featuring S-Express Singapore, S-Express Thailand, curated by Sanchai Cotirosseranee (Thai Short Film and Video Festival) and S-Express Philippines, curated by Francis Cruz, Dodo Dayao, Richard Bolisay (curators / film bloggers). The Philippines segment will be paying tribute to the late Alexis Tioseco, previous S-Express Philippines curator, and his partner Nika Bohinc, who passed away last year.
Saturday 28 August to Sunday 5 September
The Substation Theatre
Admission: $5 (concession for students, NSF, senior citizens and Friends of The Substation) / $7
For all ticketing enquiries, please call 6337 7535 or 6337 7800
Presented by The Substation Moving Images

Here are the local delights:
Nobody's Home by Nelson Yeo
My Home(Rumah Sendiri) and Sayang by Daniel Hui
Durai & Saro by Prema Menon
A Day Alone by Haider Afandi
Swing by Leon Cheo
October by Ezzam Rahman
Filem by Kent Chan
Lipstick by Agnes Christina
Cubik by Jason Brenizer
Hot! by Koo Chia Meng
Candid Shots of Youth at Play by Athalia Ho
A New Hope by Chermaine Ong
Space Drawing No.5 by Sai Hua Kuan
Tickets by Sherman Ong
Matchhead by Michelle Cheong
and check out this title...Zombies Saved by Cold Dead Heart by Erwin Nah

2^nd Phone meeting with Tessa

One thing I worked hard on this time was change of direction with each event or introduction of character. Tessa told me last time that my treatment was very much a “and, and, and” script: “and then this happened… and then this happened… and then that happened…”. It should be “this happened BUT then this happened BUT then that happened”.

I think I’ve managed to introduce many such “BUT” moments. The group reflected back to me that it certainly was less predictable, which they liked, but that it had now lost its romance. That it seemed more like a mystery or thriller!

Talking Tessa can be both deflating and inspiring at the same time. She has an amazing way of deconstructing your script and yet leading you into new exciting territories at the same time. I’m beginning to understand how little glances into a character’s actions can very quickly paint a whole person.

After the phone call with Tessa, I returned to the treatment but experienced my first ever bout of writers block. One trick to get out of writers block is to read what you have to a friend. I did just that. In fact I read my last two drafts – they’re same same but different. Remarkable – the effect it had. My first (latest draft) had her oo-ing and aaah-ing about this or that event – she was actually moved. My last draft – completely bored her. Fascinating! The difference was a few scenes and events.

Next – a couple more treatment re-writes then off to another 5 day camp in September to start writing scenes for our film. I don’t feel ready yet. I now realize the importance of structure and story; and how screenplays can literally take years to write. Almost 6 months has passed and I’m not past 10 pages of my treatment… but I’m learning…

Tutors Kelly Marshall and Tessa Sheridan talk about 'The First Draft'

Final Re-write of Treatment

So it’s our final day of the 5 day intensive and we had to deliver our final rewrite, of our treatment, for this camp. I’ve gone through various incarnations – I’ve killed one of my main characters, brought her back and killed her again. It’s changed from a coming of age story (of sorts) to a romance back to a late coming of age story – I think. Had a private session with Tessa which has been quite inspiring. I wasn’t quite sure how to progress my story because a lot of the plot revolved around very private scenes between the two main characters and to be honest my one page treatment glossed over those scenes with the equivalent of “and then they fell in love” !!

Tessa has helped me carve away some of my bigger concerns – like how to paint the details of the hospital, the other minor characters. “Light touches” she says – “keep these elements bubbling over - you don’t have to reveal too much – audiences can get so much out of a look or a glance or a few images”.

Lesson: it’s a series of moments and events that leads to a powerful story that therefore leads to an emotive response from an audience NOT (what we often see on tv or film) people BEING emotive and dramatic. This I know well from the acting world but not everyone knows this – not even all actors.

First Monthly Group Meeting

We’ve had a month to re-write our treatments: still only one page. So 4 of us met at my house today to discuss each other’s treatment so far. The feedback for me is: it’s still too undeveloped – there’s enough development only for a short film – it isn’t a yet a feature film.

1^st Phone meeting with Tessa

I’ve now gone through at least 6 complete re-writes of my treatment. Now we’re allowed to write a 10 page treatment which seems like a luxury but isn’t. It seems to me that a film is like having a very complex argument to a simple solution. Finding those surprising and specific complexities that all relate to the simple solution is the most difficult part. That part involves thinking out of the box.various other characters: the head nurse, another love interest or complication for my protagonist, the hospital, the patient’s family.

Sure enough I was right. I was on the phone with Tessa for nothing short of one and a half hours; mostly her talking. Great feedback from Tessa, however, she was insightful and had great reasons for why each element is not currently working. Take home message at this stage is that I need to decide whether this is a love story or a story about a man learning how to live.