Recent years have seen a rise in Singapore film. Having just recently returned on summer holiday after two years in Chicago, the array of film events and screenings that take place every weekend are shocking. Gone are the days when people associated Eric Khoo with the Goodwood Park Hotel and knew nothing of his true occupation. I will not pretend to write knowledgeably about Boo Junfeng or Brian Gothong Tan, the truth is I haven’t had the chance to peruse their films because of my long absence. But I will write about what I know, and that is about the classic Eric Khoo film.

The above are extremely rough, perhaps overly personal, neatly packaged thoughts as I began to write my application for the Young Film Critics thing. I honestly don't even know if it's open to students currently studying abroad.

I stopped after this paragraph and wrote what immediately dawned on me, some feeling that has been nagging at me for weeks, that has finally manifested itself in one concrete sentence,

The fact is, I've missed out on the growing up of my country.

There must be a thousand structural and grammatical things wrong with that sentence, and unfortunately my straight thoughts are not as poetic as I'd hope for, but I'm sure you understand exactly what I mean to say. I do not in anyway mean that Singapore is all grown up, but I feel extremely alienated by the changes (superficial yet suitably disorienting), and after the alienation comes a profound disappointment.

The thing is, the plays that resonate most within me are the local ones. Even if I didn't completely like them, I am unable to forget a lot of productions I've seen. These few days I've been thinking a lot about Stranger At Home and Lee Wen's performance piece at the SAM. These things I saw two years ago before I left for Chicago.

I still can't completely relate to American Theatre. Is that weird? Though theatre is supposed to universal, I'm not sure I can entirely agree. I've definitely been moved and touched by non-local plays, Of Course. But none really stay with me.

Asian Boys 3, Stranger At Home (not even because I liked it, because I actually didn't like the production much) and honestly, a hell lot of Alfian's writing. His writing stayed with me since I was 15 and first discovered Singapore, You are not my country - and I think is always going to stay.

There are still things I love about Singapore. The sweet yet pungent smell of soya sauce on my fingers after peeling tea eggs, walking by the Singapore river at night, the sleepy looking shutters of old trading companies and mamashops, the resilience of our paint-peeling colonial shophouses ... but I cannot live on these smells and sights alone and be content, be satiated.

Furthermore, the government has finally caught up and capitalized on this soft spot of mine (and many others) - this is Romantic Singapore, which our government has discovered can be commercialized, pre-packaged and sold for consumption. It only completely struck me when Yi-Sheng said something about the National Museum being intentionally modeled after a shopping mall. I loved the National Museum when I first walked through it, and now I know why. But I can't really love it anymore, since knowing it was created and constructed with such calculated sentimentality.

I realize they've discovered a powerful tool in local films - Eric Khoo captures the imperfect charm of Singapore so beautifully in his films - how could they not promote such a visually appealing Singapore to the masses?

And how about the theatre? Not quite as useful, and hence neglected in favour of the cinema.

Are my opinions still relevant? I don't even feel like I understand and know the Singapore that I'm writing about. Maybe I never did.

'If you love Singapore too much, first it will break your heart, then it will break your soul' Alfian Bin Sa'at

I cannot remember the exact quote, and I cannot remember where I first found it. But it has stayed with me.

+ posted by M @ 12:49 AM

...	Saturday, July 05, 2008

she and other people like her need to disappear.

then singapore might be a better place. and that's just the tip of the iceberg.

i'm not sorry for sounding bitter. i'm not exactly happy to be home. don't get me wrong - it's not a personal thing, it's a SINGAPORE thing. i wish i could just transplant all my loved ones and i to somewhere else.

and i thought i was done with that whole teenage angst singapore-hating phase of my life, guess not.

i'm just disappointed, so disappointed. 2 years and nothing has changed for the better.

+ posted by M @ 1:48 AM

...	Thursday, July 03, 2008

general - dispatch

there was a decorated general with
a heart of gold, that likened him to
all the stories he told
of past battles, won and lost, and
legends of old a seasoned veteran in
his own time

on the battlefield, he gained
respectful fame with many medals
of bravery and stripes to his name
he grew a beard as soon as he could
to cover the scars on his face
and always urged his men on

but on the eve of a great battle
with the infantry in dream
the old general tossed in his sleep
and wrestled with its meaning
he awoke from the night
just to tell what he had seen
and walked slowly out of his tent

all the men held tall with their
chests in the air, with courage in
their blood and a fire in their stare
it was a grey morning and they all
wondered how they would fare
till the old general told them to go home

I have seen the others
and I have discovered
that this fight is not worth fighting
I have seen their mothers
and I will no other
to follow me where I'm going

Take a shower, shine your shoes
you got no time to lose
you are young men you must be living
go now you are forgiven

but the men stood fast with their
guns on their shoulders not knowing
what to do with the contradicting orders
the general said he would do his own
duty bout would not extend it not further
the men could go as they pleased

but not a man moved, their eyes gazed straight ahead
till one by one
they stepped back and not a word was said
and the old general was left with his
own words echoing in his head
he then prepared to fight

go now you are forgiven
go now you are forgiven
go now you are forgiven



nothing like good old 90s folk music.

+ posted by M @ 6:21 PM