Human interactions and feelings are often very sensitive. How can we navigate the world without hurting ourselves and the people around us? How can we find the right words to express our thoughts and impressions? Sometimes out of politeness, it is better not to say anything. Sometimes, the situation is just so complex that it is better not to utter a word and we should just go with the flow.
The six short films that I was asked to review are all connected somehow through this notion of self-imposed silence, because the subject matters that the film-makers deal with are too delicate, or because the film-makers are making the most of this visual medium, inviting the audience to experience something through their senses, rather than to make some kind of rational judgement.
The ultimate irony of course is that I am responding to these films and doing them some kind of justice via words, my chosen medium of artistic expression for many years. Nevertheless, I hope that the following texts will somehow resonate with you, the reader, and prompt you to seek these films out and view them.
I Summon You—by Jeremy Ho & Liz Sergeant Tan
I remember you, Tina:
Tall, slim, elegant, my teacher of clean, defined movement.
Wild and vigorous, my colleague, a Macbeth witch.
Fun, playful, generous, my director in Zoom! (1997) at Scape.
I remember you, Liz:
A mere baby bump during Zoom! rehearsals.
A cheeky monkey tagging behind her mother at arts events.
A broken-hearted teenager I wished to see at her mother’s wake.
I feel for you, Liz:
What dark magic can bring back that special person we all lost?
What archives store echoes of the artist we all loved?
What room still contains the essence of her very being?
I’m happy for you, Liz:
Now all grown—tall, slim, elegant, smart like your mother;
You’ve found this in your body,
The same egg womb, the same flickering finger.
*****
From the early 1980s when she first came to Singapore till her death in 2013, the late Christina Sergeant was a seminal figure in local theatre as a mime artist, actress, educator, and director. There were occasions where I studied and worked under and with Tina, including a Scape youth-focused production when she was pregnant with Elizabeth. During the 2000s, I would often see Liz accompany her mother during arts-related events.
In my response to Liz’s film, I wanted to acknowledge my personal links with Tina and my indirect links with Liz, as well as pay tribute to the impact that Tina had on so many lives and the artistic landscape of Singapore. Liz ends her film with a physical motif of a womb and flickering fingers, recreating an action that Tina executes in an archival image that is faintly echoed during the closing shots, thereby allowing Liz to connect with her mother, and connecting us, the audience, with her mother too.
*****
缓行龟 (the turtle that moves slowly)—by Chua Joon See, Charmaine
nothing much needs be said or done
when grandpa beholds his infant granddaughter.
just a doting smile, a head pat,
some coos and mutters of guai kia.
anything more is women’s work.
quick, pass the baby to the wife,
or better still, the child’s mother.
they know what to do with sobs and shit.
fast forward twenty years, charmaine examines
this creature called grandfather under her camera lens.
so many wrinkles, so lethargic, so alien—
do we speak the same language?
do we occupy the same earth?
there is disgust, there is despair,
above all, sad fondness creeping through.
will this sour-sweet tribute bridge the divide?
*****
My Wonderful Life—Calleen Koh
This is the story of Grace, an overworked personal assistant and mother of two, who prays to the Lord Buddha to be delivered from her tedious life. Her wish is granted when a man sneezes in her face while she rides the MRT to work and she falls sick and faints in her office. Courtesy of her boss, she is hospitalised in a private hospital where she can recover in peace in her own private suite and sleep all she wants without being bothered by anything or anyone. Grace is so happy: she has reached Paradise. She wants to remain in Paradise so much that when the doctor announces she is well and must return home, she…
Then I gasped, my right hand covering my mouth in shock. I will not spoil the plot surprise for you. Go watch the film and find out yourself. All I will say is that this animation works, its surface lightness hiding the darkness of its inner satire of the lengths someone will go to not return to a life of stress.
*****
Love Quest—Kevia Tan
Five questions from a Gen X to Gen Zs:
- Is love only a game played by avatars nowadays?
- In today’s world, is meeting someone face-to-face still possible?
- When you date someone for the first time, what can you do to guarantee your personal safety?
- If you only meet creeps and weirdoes on Bumble, why bother with the app?
- You are smart and resourceful. What can you do to find THE ONE outside of dating apps?
*****
Farewell—by Soham Kundu
Two young men ride in a car, somewhere in the UK.
The driver is the older of the pair. He is about to be married.
The younger is moody after having broken up with someone called James.
How are the two men related?
Why is the younger upset with the elder?
Why does the elder try to reason with the younger?
Nothing is clear.
All I know is their relationship defrosts after they sit in a sun-setting field
Taking turns to finally mutter and shout, “James, the cunt!”
Against the backdrop of a lit streetlamp road-scape,
the younger runs away in a teasing fashion
and the elder chases as the credits roll.
An ending, but also a beginning?
*****
My popo’s favourite colour is yellow—by Winnie Chua
just enjoy blue ink magic:
lines
curves
shapes
shadings
on flipping
yellow
Post-it notes
meandering
merging
melting
morphing
from a child on a night car ride
to fingers grasping a ginko nut
About the Writer
Verena Tay (www.verenatay.com) has been a theatre practitioner since 1986. She is also a writer, editor, oral storyteller, and arts educator. She has published four volumes of plays and two short story collections, plus edited twelve story anthologies. In 2024, she received a Ph.D. in Creative Writing from Swansea University.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of the Asian Film Archive.
