Swifty, Writing

Theo Angelopoulos mini-retrospective and documentary

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sat, 19 May 2012 22:13:22 PDT

Last week, just a day before I headed off to Ningbo China for a short trip over the weekend, I walked past the nearby arthouse theater Waseda Shochiku and paused when I noticed that they were screening three Theo Angelopoulos films in a span of two weeks.

The films were:

The 4-hour THE TRAVELLING PLAYERS (1975), which I have yet to see.

The other two, shown in a double bill, were LANDSCAPE IN THE MISTS (1988), and ETERNITY AND A DAY (1998). Both I've already seen, (and in the case of the latter, I've seen quite a number of times)

I went into the cinema, looking around, hoping that there would be copies of the Japanese film posters around, unfortunately, they were none. (Japan usually promote their films in the form of A4 sized flyers, called a "chirashi", I have made some for my own films before, and often collect them)

Angelopoulos' films had always been rather critically well-received in Japan. Aside from limited arthouse releases in the country, they had won some local awards too. THE TRAVELLING PLAYERS received a Best Director For a Foreign Film from Kinema Junpo, while ULYSSES' GAZE (1995) was Mainichi newspaper's Best Foreign Film winner.

Japanese obituaries of him written during his untimely death in January were posted on the bulletin board.

I wrote about my remembrance of Theo Angelopoulos back in January, shortly after his death, recounting how I discovered him by stumbling into a DUST OF TIME (which would end up being his final film) press screening at Berlin Film Festival 2009. Although I didn't really like DUST OF TIME, there was something fascinating about it that made me dig out the rest of his filmography. And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship with his films.

Here's what I wrote then:

"...his style was very distinctive, somewhat Tarkovskian because of his meditative long shots and contemplative tone, yet different at the same time in terms of the recurring visual motifs and themes. Less bleak and more wistful and melancholic, maybe.

He, along with Tarkovsky, Bela Tarr, Wong Kar Wai and Edward Yang, are the few filmmakers I referenced most when I prepare for my film shoots.

Over and over again, as I find myself stuck while writing a script, I would pop in a dvd of an Angelopoulos film and study his craft, his tone, his rhythm.

I cannot count the amount of times I've watched bits and pieces of ULYSSES' GAZE and ETERNITY AND A DAY in the past two years, or the amount of times I've shown people one of his long takes, and then ask loudly "how did he do that??"

How indeed.

I would shake my head at parts of his films that didn't seem right to me. Even his masterpieces of the 80s and 90s (prior to that, his films were more emotionally distant, ALEXANDER THE GREAT is an example) The stylized acting, the stylized dialogue, the overblown melancholy, the manly monologues of melancholy delivered by his angstful protagonists.

And then I would smile, like how one would smile at the familiar antics of a fond one. "How very Angelopoulosian."

So far, I have seen eight of his films. (aside from the aforementioned three, I have also seen ULYSSES'S GAZE, THE BEEKEEPER, ALEXANDER THE GREAT, THE SUSPENDED STEP OF THE STORK and THE WEEPING MEADOW) I don't necessarily love all of them, yet I always loved the fact that he was aiming to do something ambitious and monumental with his films, he would try to give his films this novelistic depth and sweeping scope, constantly revisiting his own past while depicting the history of his country, which were probably filtered by his own memories.

Every time I think of his films, the great music of ETERNITY AND A DAY (probably my favourite of all his works) would play loudly in my mind. His films would never be the same without Eleni Karaindrou's soundtrack.

Along with those grand, goosebumps-inducing moments from various different films (that are usually accompanied by majestic music from Eleni Karaindrou).

Like the Lenin statue scene in ULYSSES'S GAZE.

The separation of the lovers in THE WEEPING MEADOW.

The ending of SUSPENDED STEP OF THE STORK.

And the ending of ETERNITY AND A DAY.

(notice how the last two are actually supremely long tracking shots)

I have struggled with whether I wanted to catch the ETERNITY AND A DAY / LANDSCAPE IN THE MIST double bill during the last few days. Today, I decided that I really wanted to go and was about to leave until I checked the theater schedule and realized that the screenings ended two days ago. (it's now a GIRL WITH A DRAGON TATTOO / LET ME IN double bill). And now I feel a hint of regret because I had wondered what the two would look like on the big screen since I've only viewed them on small computer screens via my DVD (which had some pretty bad-quality transfers. Blu-Ray releases of his films would be great)

While most would say that Angelopoulos's best films were the ones he made during the 70s and 80s, I probably like his latter-day works more (minus DUST OF TIME) because the melancholic themes of regret and alienation are more apparent, while the harmonious convergence of past and present, dream and reality, appear more frequently (he often had scenes where the protagonists encounter ghosts of his memories and people from his past in a single continuous shot). The latter films were less rooted in realism, they are more spiritual and mystical, more dream-like.

I'll end this post by sharing a documentary of his.

THEO ANGELOPOULOS: LIFEWORK IN FILM.

Why film festivals matter to me

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Mon, 14 May 2012 21:54:56 PDT

(UPDATED: This blog post was initially a repost of an email on the Malaysian Cinema mailing list from Venice Film Festival programmer Paolo Bertolin asking for the means to contact FINAS (the National Film Development Corporation of Malaysia). Was hoping that posting this in public would help him get a reply.

He got it, problem solved, so as per his request, I'll remove his email exchanges in the mailing list. And expand more on my last few paragraphs regarding my thoughts about film festivals. It's sort of a love letter for film festivals, perhaps.)

The Malaysian Cinema mailing list is a mailing list started by filmmaker Amir Muhammad back in 1999 that, miraculously, remains (rather) active until this very day. It is frequented by all kinds of film people, directors, actors, critics, fans and the like. Almost everyone is in this mailing list, from the late Yasmin Ahmad, to folks like Tan Chui Mui, Woo Ming Jin, Ho Yuhang, Liew Seng Tat etc.

I usually recommend this to aspiring filmmakers, film lovers, or other people with some sort of casual interest in Malaysian independent cinema, in case they want to find a place to contact these filmmakers, or know about certain film screenings and other events that are announced in the mailing list.

One of the members of this mailing list is Paolo Bertolin, film programmer of Venice Film Festival (and a few others, like Udine Film Festival). I've known Paolo for a couple of years and he is an ardent supporter of Malaysian cinema. Long has he tried to make sure foreign countries are exposed to Malaysian film directors and their works. And because of his efforts, I had the opportunity to have my short film KINGYO screened in competition at the Venice Film Festival back in 2009. For an unknown then-25 year old small fry Malaysian filmmaker like me, to have such a platform to present my work was quite a life-altering and mind-blowing experience (for starters, you get upgraded from "small fry" to "slightly bigger but still rather small fry"), especially when you know that only a handful of other Malaysian films before yours were shown in Venice during its nearly 70 year history.

(in case you were wondering about what other Malaysian films were shown in Venice before: the first was Saw Teong Hin's 2004 costume epic PUTERI GUNUNG LEDANG, still the most expensive Malaysian film to date, I think. Yeo Joon Han's 2006 short ADULTS ONLY and his 2008 debut feature SELL OUT! And then there's also Ho Yuhang's 2006 film RAIN DOGS). On the same year that KINGYO was shown, Woo Ming Jin's WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER (which I produced), was also screened under the Orizzonti section at Venice.

Ming Jin and I with Paolo, at Cannes 2010 (along with THE TIGER FACTORY lead actress Moon Lai).

A few days ago, Paolo explained to a member of the mailing list why he had "rebeloftheneongod" on his email address. This was what he said:

"Rebels of the Neon God" is the title of the debut feature of your fellow national Tsai Ming-liang. You might not know it, but Mr. Tsai is the most widely known and internationally respected Malaysian-born film director - although, alas!, he has been almost entirely active in Taiwan. And I am very glad to add that in 1994 his second feature film, "Vive l'Amour!", was a winner of the Golden Lion at the festival I am working for (you might not know it, but this is one of the most important awards in the international festival circuit, and in the past directors like Andrei Tarkovski, Akira Kurosawa, Satyajit Ray, Robert Altman, Alain Resnais, etc won it).

I was excited to see these names being mentioned, names of my heroes like Tarkovsky (I wrote about him to commemorate his 80th birthday last month), Resnais, Altman (I wrote about his film, The Company, back in 2006, long before I knew I would really be making films for a living, and about him again later that year when he passed away). Their Golden Lion wins cemented their places in the Pantheon. I was actually quite glad that Alexander Sokurov joined the club last year with his latest film. Sokurov is a filmmaker whose films I had been watching quite a lot recently and might write about in the near future if I have the time or opportunity.

Tsai Ming-Liang was a Golden Lion winner. Unfortunately, not many casual Malaysian film viewers (or Malaysians in general, really) have either heard of Tsai Ming-liang, let alone seen his films. But then, for those who have actually seen his films, not many of them knew that he's Malaysian either! (I wrote about his career advice for me in 2007, and also posted videos of his Q and A sessions for Visage at the Tokyo Filmex 2009.)

I guess that happens when your films are played more in festival circuits.

"Film festivals are meant to educate the audiences." Was a line from film critic Chris Fujiwara (currently the artistic director of Edinburgh International Film Festival) that buried itself deep in my heart when I first heard him say that during the CON-CAN awards ceremony. It really summed up for me one of the great joys of attending a film festival, it's not just about walking the red carpet or promoting my own films, but also (mostly) the fact that I can watch other films from countries I've never been to, by directors I've never heard of. Most of the time, they can be such pleasant discoveries!

I never heard of Nuri Bilge Ceylan until I saw 3 MONKEYS at the Dubai International Film Festival 2008. I heard of Theo Angelopoulos but had never seen any of his films until I saw DUST OF TIME at the Berlin Film Fest 2009 (which, sadly, would end up becoming his last film due to his untimely passing earlier this year). In Venice Film Festival 2009, I managed to catch Brillante Mendoza's LOLA, that was the first film of his that I ever saw.

Aside from providing long overdue introductions to the masters, they were also perfectly wonderful opportunities to discover new directors.

For example, last year at the Tokyo International Film Festival, I was absolutely enthralled by FIRST RAINS OF SPRING, a Japanese/ Kazakhstan production by Shinju Sano (from Japan) and Erlan Nurmuhambetov (from Kazakhstan). I liked it so much that when I bumped into the filmmakers at the closing party, I had to tell them about it. And because of that, I wanted to keep a look out for their future films. Shinju Sano had been in Kazakhstan for a long time, directing and producing many award-winning films in that country.

I always like to remember the time when I was rushing to AN EDUCATION screening at the Berlin Film Festival, I saw, a short distance away, that the film's young actress was walking excitedly down the red carpet with its director, smiling at the flashing cameras. I noticed how happy she seemed, to be there, how fresh and young she was. And just a few short years later, she, Carey Mulligan, would be delivering all kinds of wonderful performances in so many good films.

There are all kinds of similar examples I would love to give, from the film festivals that I managed to attend in the last 4-5 years. But I don't even know where to start, or where to end. I had wished so much to share these beautiful experiences with people I met, films I saw or discovered randomly. Yet I have to resign to the fact that those I can share this with back in my country is rare. And thus, when I tell stories of film festivals, I can only talk about famous directors or actors I met, instead of the films I actually saw.

The sad fact is, until this very day, most Malaysians don't know what a film festival is really about. Which is unsurprising, aside from the glorious Kuala Lumpur International Film Festival that lasted for a lengthy two years (2006-2007), we never really had an actual film festival. It is something entirely alien to the fabric of our culture, to our everyday lives. (there are some small festivals organized by foreign embassies or private bodies in multiplexes, like a "Hong Kong Movie Festival", "French Film Fest" or "Japanese Film Festival" where, in a span of a week, 5-6 films from one particular country are shown.

I am often asked by people back home whether I am flying to all these film festivals by parasiting on my family's fortunes. (and also that I was never truly regarded by most as a "filmmaker" because my films are shown in this weird thing called "film festival", instead of in multiplexes of their favourite shopping malls. So even though I have been producing and directing films for a few years, many friends from school back home still refer to me as "the future film director", because the existences of what I do now are denied.)

For many, going to the cinema is viewed only as a social thing to do (I know many who are unwilling to go to a cinema alone), a mode of entertainment to pass time and forget about after you exit the theaters. The fact that cinema can be more than just that is beyond comprehension... or it induces groans and eye-rolling with damning mutters of "artsy fartsy". (There is a stigma to "film festival films" that they are always boring. The word "art film" is mostly thrown at films that are inherently boring and slow-paced.)

I grew up being slightly self-conscious that I was a bit more passionate about cinema than people around me. It's a funny thing, growing up in Malaysia as a filmmaker.

But when I'm in a film festival screening, sitting and waiting comfortably in the dark for a film to start, the rest is forgotten.

Ying Liang, James Cameron, The New Yorker

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Thu, 10 May 2012 08:02:22 PDT

I wrote about Ying Liang's horrifying situation with the Chinese authorities a few days ago, the responses were surprising. Although many of our friends in the circle were already aware of the situation and had communicated with him on Facebook, other friends of mine were very nice to help spread the news around on Twitter and Facebook. This news was picked up by Richard Brody of The New Yorker.

Brody had written in the magazine about Ying Liang's previous films, which, to tell you the truth, I haven't really seen. (I'll rectify that soon), and in his blog post, Brody had many nice things to say about Ying Liang's films.

Specifically, Ying has a seemingly instinctive eye for incisive angles—there’s something amazingly relaxed and spontaneous about his cannily expressive compositions—as well as a naturally analytical grasp of revealing situations and moments. His stories are straightforward and simple, but they make contact with the most sensitive points of Chinese life, which he views with a quiet, stoic, almost ironic outrage—until his narratives burst forth with grand-scale catastrophes (filmed documentary-style, on scant budgets). His apocalyptic imagination has an inescapably sociopolitical and gloriously metaphorical dimension. I’ve written in the magazine about his first three features (“Taking Father Home,” “The Other Half,” and “Good Cats”), as well as his short film “Condolences” and, for that matter, about Ying himself, whom I met when he came to town in 2009.

But what really caught my eye in Brody's article was a James Cameron quote from a recent New York Times interview. (James Cameron was visiting Beijing for the release of Titanic 3D). It was a discussion about the Chinese censorship, where Cameron pointed out that censorship had became a lot less restrictive than before, and was probably moving to the right direction.

When asked whether he had talked to other filmmakers— his peers—about Chinese censorship?

This was Cameron's reply:

"No. I’m not interested in their reality. My reality is that I’ve made two films in the last 15 years that both have been resounding successes here, and this is an important market for me. And so I’m going to do what’s necessary to continue having this be an important market for my films. And I’m going to play by the rules that are internal to this market. Because you have to. You know, I can stomp my feet and hold my breath but I’m not going to change people’s minds that way. Now I do feel that everything is trending in the right direction right now, as I mentioned earlier."

It was an honest reply that showed very clearly where his interests lie. Yes, it's tricky to be political, and trickier to comment on the practices of a foreign culture. But it was a little discomforting to see the dismissal of the "reality" faced by Chinese filmmakers, artists and writers. Especially when this comes from someone you admired so much since you were a child (TERMINATOR 2 remains one of my all-time top ten action films). It does suck to be one of the "little guys".

Anyway, back to Ying Liang, yesterday, he had posted on Facebook a list of explanations in both English and Chinese regarding his own issue, just to clarify a few things.

1. WHEN NIGHT FALLS is a feature film, not a documentary, because there were performing and shooting plan in the film. Just one thing: the story really referents that case.

2. The copyright holder is Jeonju IFF, not me. Therefore the government discussed with the head of the festival, not with me, and they tried to use 10,000,000,000 won to buy. Of course, the festival refused this “business”. My film belongs to the part of Jeonju Digital Project, this year they invited Raya Martin, Vimukthi and me. The festival gave me about 280,000CNY as production fee.

3. My parents and my wife's parents were harassed by policemen at the early of this April. The last time, I got the info, the policemen from Police Department, National Security, and National Protection had visited my family in Shanghai at least seven times. Their main work were helping my parents to understand “my case”: such as the film exposed the eyesore of them, nobody could be allowed to touch the case about Yang Jia, and I would be arrested once I come back. The day before yesterday, my friend gave a call to my home; she said my mother’s voice and emotion sound ok, but telephone always discontinue, maybe phone was being eavesdropped.

4. When the Policemen from National Security visited me in HK, they didn't use true identity, just said they from the Foreign Office of Shanghai Government. Because of my families' troublesome, I thought I must see them. They told me my film didn’t meet the true, and violate somebody's emotion. Then they request me to cancel all screening plan, or re-edit the film.

My friend who is the human right lawyer told me the policemen's accusations are absurd. They should tell the people what the true situation is, and all lawyers who with the heart of justice are waiting for re-adjudging Yang Jia's case. Regarding somebody's emotion, in fact, that person should sue me, not police department. However, it wouldn't be a criminal case, and I shouldn't be arrested too.

5. I'm Hk now, because I accepted the invitation to be the Artist in Residence, from Mr. Shu Kei who is the dean of School of Film and Television, The Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts. Shu Kei also is the Artistic Producer of this film, some of students of the school attended in this film's production. Therefore the film was made by a team. I wish some person on FB who doesn't know more about these won't criticize HKAPA anymore. I have great friendship with students and colleagues here, and we just like a family.

6. Somebody always asks why I want to touch this “sensitive” story. This is my answer: to me, there is not any “sensitive” story, just the story what I interesting, I have feelings, and I want to tell. I never consider whether a story is political, with the topic of conversation, or social.

说明几点，如下：

1.《我还有话要说》是一部剧情片，并非纪录片。因由演员扮演，拍摄是组织性的。只是“电影故事”里的人和事，与现实对应。

2.政府拿出100亿韩元（5千万人民币）向全州国际电影节购买版权，并非向我，那是因为版权归全州影展所有。我参与了全州的艺术项目：“三人三色”（Jeonju digital project），该项目已做十几年，每年邀请三位导演。今年有我，菲律宾的Raya Martin 和斯里兰卡的Vimukthi, 而出了制作费的全州影展当然是出品方。

3. 我和我太太的双方家人受骚扰，始于4月上旬。我最后一次了解到上海家人的情况时，我妈妈说公安、国保和国安已上门累计达七次，主要是给我父母分析我的“案情”，并指明我的片子揭了短，与杨佳有关的题材不能碰，我只要回国必被捕。前天，我有朋友去电我上海家里，据说我妈妈声音和情绪都正常，只是电话有中断现象，疑为被监听。

4.国安到香港来找我谈时，并没用真实身份，只说自己是上海市政府外联办的人。而我之所以愿意在香港与他们一谈，那是因为我的家人已不堪骚扰。谈话期间，他们对我提出两点指控：1）片子与案情不符。2）伤害了某些当事人的感情和权益。——据此，警察要求永远不要放映，或修改片子。

我做维权律师的朋友告诉我，两点都为荒谬：1）假设警察认为片子与案情不符，那就请当局公布当年所有的案情，所有有职业道德的律师都盼着这一天的到来，等着杨佳案的发回重审。2）假设侵害了某人感情，就请由具体某人提出对我的诉讼，且说到底是民事诉讼，何至于逮捕。

5.我之所以在香港，是因受到香港演艺学院电影电视学院院长舒琪老师的邀请，在此任驻校艺术家一年，并带课。另，舒琪老师为这部片的监制，且电影电视学院的部分毕业生和在校生参与了这部片子的制作，所以是集体的心血。请某些不太了解事实的网友，不要指责演艺学院没有声援我等等，我与该学院的师生关系非常好，是一家人。

6. 总有人问我为什么碰这个“敏感”题材等等。我的回应是，对我来说，只存在感兴趣的、有体会的、想表达的题材，不存在“敏感”题材。是否政治性，具备话题性，或者社会性，是别人的事，并非一名作者需要考虑的本分。

And just a few moments ago, Ying Liang posted some words from Wang Jing Mei, the mother of Yang Jia during an interview with RFA (Radio Free Asia). The article is in Chinese only.

“杨佳的母亲王静梅表示，该电影是要反映她的经历和感受，只有她才有资格判断是否符合事实。当局无权指责电影的内容，更不应任意打压。

她说：“只是做一个真实的记录，为何这样对待他。那是我亲身经历的东西，你没经历，没权说对与错。”

王静梅说，很高兴她的真实经历能以电影方式留下记录，亦很希望能有机会看到该影片。”

My translation:

Wang Jing Mei, mother of Yang Jia, said that the film (When Night Falls) documented her experiences and feelings, and it was up to her to decide whether they were factually accurate. Authorities had no rights to question the content of the film, let alone suppress it.

She said: "This is merely a documented reality. Why did the government treat him like this? Those were my personal experiences, not yours, who are they to say that it is right or wrong?"

She added that she was happy that what she endured were chronicled on this film, and hoped that she would be able to watch this film one day.

Yes. Who are they to dismiss her reality?

Ying Liang - A Chinese filmmaker's plight

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sun, 06 May 2012 21:24:20 PDT

Two weeks ago, I translated Professor Si-Tu Zhao Dun's words of wisdom about how film directing as a profession does not really exist shared by my friend, the Chinese filmmaker Ying Liang.

I met Ying Liang in late 2009 at a Chinese restaurant near Keio University. It was quite a coincidence, we were both at the university for separate screening events (he was a guest of a showcase of independent Chinese directors, I was there for the Con-Can Movie Festival Screening of my Grand Prix-winning short, Fleeting Images), and we all ended up at the same restaurant. It was even more coincidental when it turned out that he knew Ming Jin too (and a bunch of other Malaysian director friends of mine whom he met in various film festivals).

Ying Liang had directed a few feature films, like TAKING FATHER HOME 背鸭子的男孩 (2005).

THE OTHER HALF (2006), GOOD CATS (2008), and the Tiger Award-winning short film CONDOLENCES (2010).

He also ran the Chongqing Independent Film and Video Festival. My dad went to the 2010 edition of the festival and ended up meeting Ying Liang as well. The world is very small.

A few days ago, Dad called me from the Jeonju International Film Festival (which Ying Liang was invited as one of the three directors for this year's Jeonju Digital Project, along with Filipino director Raya Martin and Sri Lankan director Vimukti Jayasundara).

"Did you hear what happened to Ying Liang?" Dad asked. "He can't go back to China anymore. It had something to do with the new film he made."

I was a little mortified.

A few days have passed. And finally, on Ying Liang's Facebook status update, he sort of shed some light upon this matter:

It's a so stupid country! I just made a film, maybe it's very bad, very boring, very bullshit, and it's really a film only...

In the past one month, the policemen from Police Department, National Security, National Protection visited my family in Shanghai at least seven times. They used the intimidate words to talk with my parents, such as: "Major Case", "Special Case", "Important Case","Force Action", "Arrest" ... Then they went to Sichuan, visited my wife's family, used the same way to do...Then they went to HK, fault me that my film didn't meet the truth, and violate somebody's emotion (they got my script through non-legal way)... Then they went to South Korea, want to use 10,000,000,000won (about 50,000,000CNY, about 5,000,000Euro) to buy the copyright of this film... I came back in HK the day before, and heard the head of Shanghai Police Department gave an order: once I am in China, they will arrest me.

OMG, I just made a film, it's really a film only...

这是一个愚蠢透顶的国家。我不过拍了一部电影，也许是一部很差、很闷、很狗屎的电影，真的只是一部电影唉。。。

过去一个月，公安、国保、国安轮番到我上海家里，对我父母“轰炸”：什么大案、要案、特案、特别办理、“刚性行动”、“回国就逮捕”。。。所有能想到的恐吓词汇一并用上；之后跨省到四川我太太家，又是连日“轰炸”；再跨境到香港，指责我作品不符合案情实事，侵害某些当事人的感情（他们通过非法手段，看过我的剧本）。。。再之后是跨国到南韩，向全州市政厅和全州影展提出，用100亿韩元（5千万人民币）购买版权。。。前天我回到香港，昨天从警察系统内部听说，上海市公安局局长亲自下的令，只要我回国，先逮捕再说。。。

天，我只是拍了一部电影，真的只是一部电影唉。。。

This is indeed quite horrifying.

Looking at the comments section, Ying Liang responded to some well-wishers.

The title of his film is WHEN NIGHT FALLS 《我还有话要说》 (literal translation: "I still have something to say"), which is possibly a fictionalized (?) account about the case of Yang Jia (a guy who got executed in 2008 for murdering six policemen with a knife in a Shanghai police station after being arrested and beaten for riding an unlicensed bicycle. Mr. Yang became a hero among many Chinese, and was later executed.) and his mother. (who disappeared after being taken to the police station for questioning prior to her son's trial, and, well, reappeared months later in a psychiatric hospital with a different name, another article about Yang Jia's mother can be read here)

It is his contribution to the Jeonju Digital Project.

Ying Liang is now stuck in Hong Kong.

He later posted (on Facebook) a letter to his parents.

亲爱的爸爸妈妈，

如果你们真的想帮我，不知后来接受警察的恐吓时，是否做了录音？如果没有的话，请下次有机会时，录下。这些都是必要的证据。

假设与你们讨论前信，我担心陷入无效的争辩。我只提一点：根据我从小受的教育，面对不公义的对象，无论个人还是政权，首先想的肯定不该只保全自己。因为不公义者破坏的是环境，是每个人的权益和普通个体的未来。

这个制度会走到今天:说句话，拍个片，安全会受威胁，自由被用来当成交换条件，是我们所有人共同促成的，鼓励的。最希望司法独立，言论受保护的，过去的有刘少奇，陈良宇，现在有薄熙来和王立军，未来是每一个现在正滥用权力的既得利益者。

希望我的父母可以坚持对我的教育，希望你们不要继续以服从，配合，劝导的方式纵容这台腐烂的国家机器，并以保护人身安全的名义让你们的儿子失去作为人的尊严和维护正当权利的机会。

应亮

My (rough) translation of his letter:

My dear parents,

If you really want to help me, did you record what the police said when they were threatening you? If not, if this happens again, please record them. They are important evidences.

I don't really want to get into a long debate with you. I merely want to point out that, what I learnt when I was a child is that, when facing injustices, be it a personal one or a political one, the first thing that crosses my mind is not my own self-preservation, because those who caused these injustices are destroying our environment, our rights and our future.

This system existed til today: A single line you say or a single film is enough threaten your own safety. Freedom is used merely as a bargaining chip. This system existed because we ourselves contributed and encouraged it.

I wish you (my parents) can uphold what you taught me from before. I wish you will not choose conformity, compromising or persuasive methods to indulge this country's corrupt system, just for the sake of self-preservation, you'll end up causing your son to lose his dignity as a human being and also the loss of opportunity to fight for his rights.

Ying Liang

I don't know what will happen next. Hang in there, Ying Liang.

(you can follow Ying Liang on Twitter)

BUDDYZ on Astro Ria

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Fri, 04 May 2012 21:00:01 PDT

BUDDYZ is a series of 5-minute minisodes on the Astro Ria channel presented by Digi. It stars Alif Satar, Syed Ali, Erin Malek and Elliza Razak, with special appearances by Shaheizy Sam.

I actually directed it. (You might remember back in March that I mentioned about directing a Malay TV series. Yes, it does look rather different from my usual output) The series finally came out on Tuesday (1st of May), followed by the second episode on Thursday (2nd of May).

Sadly, being in Japan, I can't really watch any of them.

The whole thing came about when Ming Jin, who was originally going to direct it, had to do his big zombie film, so I flew back to Malaysia and took over the directing reins instead.

It was a breezy 9-day shoot. (well, 9 days for 15 episodes isn't exactly THAT easy, even though each episode is just 5-minute long) I flew back to Tokyo right after the shoot, but continued to work closely with my editor with the editing while communicating via emails and Twitter. Although I fine-tuned the visuals, I didn't exactly see the finished versions.

So, if you happen to have Astro, you can do what I can't do and catch BUDDYZ on TV, every Tuesday and Thursday nights. 8.55pm (repeats at 11pm)

I posted this on Facebook with the group photo taken when I finished the shoot.

The cast and crew of BUDDYZ, after we wrapped the shoot on the 20th of March.

It was a 9-day shoot, beginning from the 10th of March til the 20th of March (with a 2-day break in the middle).

Like most productions, it was an emotional roller coaster, where my feelings swung from murderous rage to ecstatic joy, usually in mere seconds.

I had never directed a Malay TV series before (well, a "mini" one, each episode being 5 mins and all..), this production had allowed me the opportunity to meet many different people, learn many different things, experimented with some styles and techniques.

We are all different people of different backgrounds and experiences coming together to make a production. And when it is done, many times we might never see one another in our lives again. Maybe we will just look back at this 10 days with vague wistfulness and go:

"Whoa. What a crazy 9 days I had."

Anyway, the shoot was pretty smooth, despite the damned rain constantly threatening to derail my plans. So yes, despite the occasional murderous rage or melancholic depression I felt during the shoot, I now feel nothing but relief and gratitude that it all ended well.

Many thanks to the team for making this happen. :)

It was indeed a crazy 9 days. Only a bit less than 2 months ago yet it felt so much longer. That's really the strange thing about filmmaking, the film shoots often feel like a distant dream.

Oh, and here's another photo of the nice-looking kombi van (the Volkswagen Type 2).

When what you desire in life bleeds into video games...

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Tue, 01 May 2012 16:11:59 PDT

A week ago, after having a rough cut of my latest short film shown to financiers and clients, I decided to take a sabbatical. (Usually, after a film shoot, I would immediately jump into putting the footage together, editing them, seeing whether what I got had been what I've envisioned, or, perhaps I got something better than I hoped. But once I'm done with a first rough cut, I would for myself to adhere to usual industry beliefs, and to take a break from the footage so that I could come back to it with fresh eyes, approaching the materials with much more objectivity and distance. Because of the freeform improvisational nature of my usual filmmaking methods, I tend to "make discoveries" of my films through post-production)

Therefore, during this break, I intended to just do some researching, finding inspiration from other films regarding the editing, finishing up a book that I was reading (currently reading: Italo Calvino's THE BARON IN THE TREES), follow the NBA Playoffs.

Oh, and maybe play a game...

So I installed SKYRIM.

It's the 5th installment of a role-playing video game series (I played the last two) because, well, role-playing games had always been my genre of choice. (I like being swept away by their epic scale and being immersed in these awesome, fantastical worlds. Do you know that I started playing my first Final Fantasy game when I was 11? I cannot believe that it had already been 17 years already when I was first exposed to this beauty below. The music still give me goosebumps.)

Anyway, after a week of SKYRIM. I was left in a daze, and a slight feeling of self-loathing. The game was indeed as awesome and ambitious as advertised, to be able to navigate in a world of such sheer scale, to explore dungeons filled with undead monsters, to fight against centuries-old evil entities trying to destroy the world, to become the head of a college of wizards, and then going around making lots of money by selling magical items, wow, they were the kind of things I imagined and dreamed as a fat nerdy kid long ago (which was why I loved reading fantasy books when growing up, but I was self-conscious about it when people in school didn't "get" my literary tastes, it's true, I wasn't reading highbrow literature that most loved, like Sweet Valley High, True Singaporean Ghost Stories or Chicken Soup For The Soul Stories.)

I spent so much time playing SKYRIM (okay, between that, I also took some time to watch Martin Scorsese's AGE OF INNOCENCE and CASINO for the very first time) that I began wondering why was I even doing it at all. I winced in sympathy whenever a guard told me he was an adventurer once before he took an arrow in the knee.

(By the way, the two films were great)

Yesterday I had such a conversation with Kong. (we were catching the new Hiroshi Abe film THERMAE ROMAE)

I said: "I felt like a protagonist in a musical icon's biopic, you know, like Ray Charles in RAY or Johnny Cash in WALK THE LINE, the ones that chronicle their rise to fame, fall from grace, and then their redemption. That "fall from grace" part is usually about their drug addiction, mine is kinda like a SKYRIM addiction."

Kong said: "Dude, just stop playing it. I played it for two weeks and then I stopped. I never looked back."

I said. "I can't! I need to perfect my smithing, enchanting and alchemy skills, they can all reach 100! And then I can fall a dragon with a single blow!"

(Yes, my line sounds even more ridiculous when spoken in real life)

Just now, I stumbled upon Patricia Hernandez's "I’m Sick of the Disturbingly Neat Lives Video Games Expect Us To Enjoy" article on Kotaku. It was a wondrous article, both insightful and personal. The lines in bold were what made me continue reading. And then, nodding with agreement.

I stopped playing (Skyrim) after losing a few largely pointless, unfulfilling—but addicting—days to the game. I told myself I probably just wasn't in the right mindset to find Skyrim meaningful, which was strange to think about since it's not as if it wasn't engrossing. It was difficult to explain, then.

My friend kept playing, though—almost every day, for months. Most people I knew did the same. I didn't get it, but I became determined to understand. I asked her why she kept playing despite most of it seeming like busywork, and this question was met with a shrug. I asked her why she spent hours crafting armor despite not actively working towards anything, and she had no idea. I would ask her why she was undertaking a quest that day, and there was never a particular reason.

I remarked that watching her play was like seeing her check things off a to-do list, taking cues from how organized she tended to be in real life. Suddenly the robotic gaze enveloped in the world of Skyrim broke free of the glow of the screen. "That's exactly it," she said. "I like feeling like I'm checking things off a to-do list. I feel like I can take charge of my responsibilities and that's comforting.

Yes. It made a lot of sense. I'm probably the most disorganized person ever, but I feel that as I grew older, I became increasingly anal with video games. I had to be a completionist, or a perfectionist.

As a child, it was merely the joy of seeing the game's ending that kept me playing ("just save the princess! What? She's in another castle?"). But now, I make sure that I "perfect" the bloody game via grinding, by trying to complete everything that can be done. When playing Japanese RPGs, I would never be happy until my character levels are all maxed up and I can destroy the final boss with a few blows. When playing Angry Birds, I had to get 3 stars for every single stage (which I did).

Later in Hernandez's article, she said this:

I want to make choices—what we do in life is always a choice—I want to live a life worth living, I want purpose. I figure these are some of the fundamental ingredients toward approaching happiness. This desire for a worthwhile, meaningful life bleeds into games.

This had been a suspicion of mine in the past few years, but reading her article confirmed it. And it feels wonderful to read an article that voices my own thoughts.

My approach in life does bleed into games.

It's the same as why I would want to go through entire oeuvres of directors or writers who interest me, taking the time to track down rare films, books and such, either online, or in shops. It's an adventure, a... treasure hunt. These are the things in life that kept me going.

(You see, contrary to popular belief, I actually demand quite a lot (from myself) when it comes to filmmaking. The shots, the acting, the execution, the editing, if my film is less than awesome, I have probably failed. In fact, I didn't just fail in making an awesome film, I feel as if I have failed IN LIFE.)

I also love competition. I hate losing. I enjoy winning. But these are quite fleeting. A few passing days and I don't even care anymore. It's not just about besting others but also to best myself as well. Maybe the true excitement had always merely been the competition itself. It drives me. (I also remember people who had, er, slighted me, just so that I would do whatever it takes to prove them wrong, it really fuels my motivation. I occasionally feel a little offended when I give someone a DVD of my films and they end up either not watching it or forgetting about it, the blood and tears of not just me but also my cast and crew do not deserve such treatment! Which leads to "I will make more great films in the future and make sure you regret, er, not watching them in the first place!")

But nevertheless, I am writing this blog post now, not sure how many people would actually read it. (... seriously, do people still come to my blog?) But mostly to remind myself that my one-week sabbatical is over. I'm getting back to my editing. Back to doing some writing. Video games are fun, but I think I still prefer making films.

Film directing as a profession does not really exist

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 10:52:02 PDT

I saw this posted on Facebook by the Chinese filmmaker Ying Liang. He was passing to his students words of wisdom from his own teacher, Professor Si-Tu Zhao Dun.

The whole thing is in Chinese, so it's actually better if you can read it in its original language as my translation will be pretty shaky:

Here's the original:

"B1有同学对选修导演有兴趣，请看一下我的老师司徒兆敦的话：“世界上没有导演这个行业。做导演首先要学做人，对生活的态度必须是严肃的、认真的，要甘心寂寞的，要关心生活、关心人。只贪图导演的虚名心浮气躁，将来要吃大亏。静下心来脚踏实地，才能出智慧。”

司徒老师70多岁了，是北京电影学院所谓“第五代”那个班的班主任，现在还是CENX的顾问之一。他的父亲司徒慧敏是中国著名的电影技术专家，左翼电影运动的成员之一，参与过《桃李劫》、《风云儿女》的拍摄，做过《姊妹花》的录音。他给我最大的教诲便是：要成为创作者，首先需要解决自己与世界与他人的关系，需要找到一个合适的位置，需要真正了解自己"

My rather horrendous translation (some of my notes will be in parentheses):

"Some of the students of B1 (not sure what this is, a class that Ying Liang is teaching, maybe) are interested in directing as their majors. These are the words of my teacher, Professor Si-tu Zhao Dun of Beijing Film School.

"Film directing as a profession (or a career) does not really exist. To become a film director one must learn how to live life, treating one's own life with discipline and seriousness, and is willing to accept loneliness. Care about life, care about others. If you choose to be a film director merely for superficial reasons just to assuage your own pride, you will pay dearly in the future. Be realistic and practical, then you will attain wisdom."

Professor Si-tu is 74 years old. He was the teacher of the "5th Generation" filmmakers of China. (Zhang Yimou, Tian Zhuangzhuang, Chen Kaige, Zhang Junzhao and others, they graduated from the class of 1982) and is currently one of the consultants of CNEX (~~I assume that's Chongqing Film Fest, which was founded by Ying Liang.~~ Nope. my assumption was wrong, according to Ying Liang, CNEX is the Foundation for Chinese Documentary Films) Professor Si-tu's father, Si-tu Hui Min, a leftist filmmaker and intellectual, was a pivotal figure in Chinese cinema history, being involved in four films in the 1930s that had became important examples of left-leaning Chinese cinema. (Diantong Film Company on Wikipedia).

Another quote from him to Ying Liang was "in order to be a creator, one must first learn to deal with the intricacies of one's relationship with the world and other people, seeking a comfortable balance, which will lead to a deeper understanding of oneself."

Interestingly, "Two Cents", Si-tu Hui Min's segment in the 1937 omnibus film SYMPHONY OF LIANHUA can be viewed on Youtube (actually, the entire film is there too, so you can check out the contributions of the other seven directors involved in this omnibus).

I don't disagree. Becoming a filmmaker isn't merely a "job", your focus isn't just on "directing a film" on a film set, it actually affects your entirely lifestyle, your philosophy, your life. There's this perpetual feeling of loneliness, knowing that you cannot really share your own emotional world in its entirety with other people. What concerns you is something that that is unexplainably private to you.

When people tell me that they really want to help me out during one of my film shoots, because they intend to learn, and to achieve their own dreams of becoming a film director, I seldom turn them down. Having people spit upon your dreams or trivialize what you wish to do is a foul experience that I had endured most of my life. I wouldn't want to revisit that upon others. Yet the irony is that most of the time when I accepted their offers to help, and told them that I was indeed preparing for a shoot and would love their assistance, they would end up turning me down because they had more important things to do, like a day job, or an appointment, or a date. I can never really understand them. It's a rather lonely feeling.

Instagram photos of the week: End of cherry blossom season

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sun, 22 Apr 2012 00:24:28 PDT

Been busy with the post-production of my new film, and also dealing with a couple of deadlines. So I'll just entertain this very silent blog with more stunningly beautiful photos that I uploaded on Instagram during the past week.

The photos I posted had one recurring theme, the end of the much-loved cherry blossom season in Japan. Usually it's signaled by some heavy rain.

One day, I was rushing to the train station when I saw a Black Thunder chocolate bar wrapper lying on the ground, along with a couple of cherry blossoms petals. Which amused me, because this is something I eat almost everyday, and I sometimes wondered who else shares this guilty pleasure as well. The Japanese folks around me loved remarking on my love of Black Thunder, to the point where some dude in my film department made it a major highlight in an interview video he made about me. Doesn't any other Japanese people try it too? How can they resist a Black Thunder? It's a little peculiar.

During my film shoot last week at Genjiyama Park, a small mountain park considered one of the Meccas for Hanami (Japanese custom for enjoying the beauty of flowers, usually it's cherry blossoms). When I was on its peak, I looked up at the trees and was a little disappointed that there weren't that many cherry blossoms, but the trees were very nice.

So yup, look for me on Instagram at "edmundyeo".

Thoughts on 31st Hong Kong Film Awards / Ode to Lau Ching Wan

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 09:29:34 PDT

The 31st Hong Kong Film Awards was held on Sunday night. I was following the results on Facebook and Twitter because I didn't know where else can I catch a live telecast of it in Japan.

A SIMPLE LIFE by Ann Hui ended up as the big winner of the night, winning Best Film, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Screenplay and probably a few others I didn't count.

I haven't seen it, so there's not much I can say.

But I ended up writing my thoughts about each of the acting award winners on Facebook, which I'm going to share here. (and I will expand on what I wrote if I can)

On BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS winner Soh Hang Chuen:

"When I saw Soh Hang Suen appear on Johnnie To's LIFE WITHOUT PRINCIPLE, I was pleasantly surprised. She was a very familiar face during my childhood, from those TVB series I used to watch. She now operates a vegetarian restaurant, oh, and she's also the Best Supporting Actress in the ongoing HK Film Awards. She appeared only in 2 scenes. But to me. they were the most intense and memorable scenes in the film."

It's always great to see Hong Kong veteran actors or actresses appearing onscreen again. Most of the TVB series I remember of Soh Hang Suen were the sad ones. One that remained vivid in my mind is about her being framed for murder and being imprisoned in China, and her son (played by Roger Kwok) had to spend years and years trying to prove her innocence. I remember only one image from its final episode, she was finally given a not guilty verdict after all these years of being wrongly imprisoned. Her face was one of shock and disbelief, while her son just sat back and yelled in triumph, and then he began crying.

Those TVB stuff from my childhood were really intense.

The Best Supporting Actor also happens to be a familiar face from my past.

On BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR winner Lo Hoi-pang.

Good, I was always grateful that Johnnie To brought Lo Hoi-pang back for PTU, and all his subsequent films. Now he wins the best supporting actor for LIFE WITHOUT PRINCIPLE. Deservingly.

Seeing Lo Hoi-pang in PTU nearly ten years ago gave me the same feeling I had when I saw Soh Hang Suen in LIFE WITHOUT PRINCIPLE few weeks ago, a feeling of surprise and nostalgia. Among nominees, his performance and Kenneth Tsang's (in OVERHEARD 2) impressed me most.

On BEST ACTRESS winner Deanie Ip.

To the surprise of nobody, Deanie Ip won Best Actress for A SIMPLE LIFE yesterday, completing her sweep, (started from her historic win in last year's Venice Film Festival, and then also winning in the Golden Horse, Tallin Black Nights Film Fest, HK Film Critics Society Awards, Asian Film Awards)

I was excited to meet her the night before the Golden Horse awards last November.

Approaching her, I briefly introduced myself and told her that I was a fan of hers since...

"I was a fan of yours since..." Then I stopped myself, to complete the sentence with 'I was a child' would have been a little rude, I thought.

"Since you were a child?" Deanie finished my sentence with a smile.

Aside from the films and TV dramas I've seen. Every time I see her name, her powerful duet with Andy Hui rings loudly in my head 教我如何不愛他 like a personal theme song (you know, like wrestlers use when they enter the ring).

This is the photo I took with Deanie Ip after the conversation above.

And finally, instead of writing something about BEST ACTOR winner Andy Lau, I ended up writing something about non-winner Lau Ching Wan, who got two nominations this year in the category (for LIFE WITHOUT PRINCIPLE and OVERHEARD 2). His role in OVERHEARD 2 was probably not flashy enough, so I thought he had a better hence with LIFE WITHOUT PRINCIPLE. But when his two co-stars won the Supporting Acting awards, I knew he wouldn't have a chance at all.

Yes, Andy Lau ended up winning Best Actor yesterday for A Simple Life at the HK Film Awards. That would be his third Best Actor win after the two Johnnie To films RUNNING OUT OF TIME (1999) and RUNNING ON KARMA (2003). I thought he thoroughly deserved the latter, but not so sure about RUNNING OUT OF TIME, because I thought his co-star Lau Ching Wan had a more complex role in THE VICTIM that year.

This year, despite getting two nominations for Best Actor, for Johnnie To's LIFE WITHOUT PRINCIPLE and OVERHEARD 2, Lau Ching Wan ended up not winning anything again. Which is quite a shame, this guy is probably one of the best actors of his generation (... a strong generation indeed, with the likes of Tony Leung, Anthony Wong, Francis Ng etc,), it'll be sad if he's just a one-and-done Best Actor winner (he won for MY NAME IS FAME in 2006).

Here are the number of roles which he got nominated for that I loved:

1997's Full Alert (Brilliant Ringo Lam film, either him or Francis Ng could have gotten something. It's a tough year. This was the year that Tony Leung won for Happy Together.)

1998's The Longest Nite (Him, as a bad guy, squaring off against Tony Leung. I loved the film, and him doing the whole Cool Hand Luke stuff in the cell. This was the year that Anthony Wong won for Beast Cops)

2007's Mad Detective (this was the year that Jet Li won for The Warlords... and he had just won for MY NAME IS FAME, so I guess they wouldn't let him get a back to back win, a pity.)

So yeah, Lau Ching Wan, despite his accolades and popularity, is somehow, to me, still rather underrated. Hope to see more collaborations between him and Johnnie To. They are the original pair.

Now, enough about the acting award winners. A friend of mine, Jessey Tsang, also won a Best New Director award for her feature debut, BIG BLUE LAKE. It's awesome. I actually met her two years ago at the Tokyo Film Festival, when the film was one of the projects in the Tokyo Project Gathering (project market, now renamed as TIFFCOM Market or something). She had just finished the film and was seeking postproduction financing and sales. And now she's a Hong Kong Film Awards award-winner, awesome.

Here's a trailer of BIG BLUE LAKE.

My (stunningly beautiful, of course) Instagram photos of the week

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 07:50:30 PDT

The past week had been pretty busy for me. I was "supervising" the post-production of the TV thing that I shot in Malaysia last month (when I said supervising, I pretty much meant "jumping into the whole damn thing and doing a lot of re-editing myself), while simultaneously doing the pre-production for a short film (that I'm shooting right now).

Anyway, you might notice that numerous photos I've posted on this page were from Instagram, a service I rather liked because of the way it could enhance my iPhone photos. Everyone's talking about it now since it got acquired by Facebook for a measly sum of $1 billion dollars, I also thought that the photos I took had been increasingly awesome, so I'm sharing the ones that I have taken in the past week.

On the 6th of April, while on our way to do our recce (a term we used for pre-filming location visits), my cinematographer gave me a seagull egg. It was very sweet and yummy.

When I was at Kamakura, walking past the famous Zeniarai Benten Shrine, I was struck by its interesting tunnel entrance, looked full of mysteries.

Meanwhile, as all these were happening, we were in the middle of the cherry blossom season. Near where I live, the cherry blossom petals were already falling into the Kanta river, a sight that had always struck me even though this was the third time I've seen it.

Finally, today, at the beach during the sunset, a child enjoyed the wind.

So yeah, look for "edmundyeo" on Instagram if you want to have your mind blown away by more awesome pictures of mine :D

Happy 80th birthday, Andrei Tarkovsky

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 13:58:31 PDT

I was quite surprised when Radoslav Sharapanov left a comment on my recent Andrei Tarkovsky Facebook post that today is actually Tarkovsky's birthday.

Tarkovsky died in 1986 at the relatively young age of 54, when I was only 2. He would have been 80 years old this year. Same age as my grandmother.

On the day of his birthday, the weather in Tokyo had been wonderful, the storm from yesterday was entirely forgotten. The skies were clear, the sun was warm, and near my place, the cherry blossoms had started blooming.

Some of you might know that I'm a huge Tarkovsky fan, and that many of my own works were very influenced by him.

I knew about him for quite a while, but I've only watched my first Tarkovsky film back in 2009. At that time I had just finished Kingyo and was feeling some post-creativity depression. During a delicious all-you-can-eat Italian meal with Niklas (who would end up shooting my subsequent experimental short THE WHITE FLOWER), a brainstorming session led to a Tarkovsky discussion, when he mentioned to me about the greatness of STALKER. I was intrigued, our discussion would lead us to an exploration trip at the ruins in Sagamiko a few weeks later. One thing led to another, the ruins in Sagamiko would end up being used as a setting for my short film, EXHALATION many months later.

But that night after the discussion, I was intrigued by Andrei Tarkovsky. I had a Facebook chat with Lesly (who shot my LOVE SUICIDES and later, the Prada short film, NOW) and asked whether he had seen any Tarkovsky films too. Lesly immediately told me that Tarkovsky was one of his favourite directors too.

With so many people lauding the greatness of Tarkovsky, I had no choice but to check out his films.

STALKER was my very first. I cannot forget its dream scene.

This is a fan-made video of STALKER, the first half of it is the dream scene I mentioned.

(By the way, you can actually watch the entire STALKER, yes, the whole film, on Youtube)

I immediately followed that with MIRROR. Images from the unseen narrator's childhood haunted me for days.

Cinematic poetry at its finest. They were the sort of things I aspired to do with my own films. How awe-inspiring it was, and comforting too, to know that a master like him had done what I tried to do so many decades ago.

(The entire MIRROR is on Youtube as well)

I decided to trace his early career, to understand the evolution, or the maturation, of a pure artist.

So I saw his two short films THE KILLERS and THE STEAMROLLER AND THE VIOLIN. I cannot remember THE KILLERS at all, but THE STEAMROLLER AND THE VIOLIN, I remembered it most for... also, another dream sequence, which happened at the end of the short film, showing a little boy's desire to be with his friend.

I guess that would serve as a precursor for the ending of his masterful debut feature, IVAN'S CHILDHOOD. IVAN'S CHILDHOOD shocked me with its greatness and maturity as well. It seemed light years ahead of his shorts. Tarkovsky's lyrical images were already full display.

Discounting his documentary VOYAGE IN TIME, Tarkovsky had made only 7 features in his lifetime. Having seen three of his films in mere days, completing his entire oeuvre would have been easy.

But I decided against it, I didn't want it to end so soon. Therefore, 2009 ended with me having only seen three of those films. I revisited them a lot, over and over again, before a shoot, after a shoot, whenever I was writing a script.

"Give me a Tarkovskian shot!" became a common line that I would say during a film shoot.

2010. I watched SOLARIS in its entirety. I liked it a little less than the other films that I have seen, despite its brilliance. I didn't know why. Yet the opening and ending images have seared themselves in my retinas... but then, which Tarkovsky film didn't?

Last year, after shooting LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER, I decided to pop in my NOSTALGHIA DVD.

After seeing it, which, predictably, gave me goosebumps, I called THE TIGER FACTORY director Woo Ming Jin, who was my producer.

"The things I did with LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER, of characters moving in and out of dreams and reality, between past and present... Tarkovsky had already done it in NOSTALGHIA decades earlier." I said, shocked, awed, a mixture of both.

"Maybe Tarkovsky traveled in time to the future to rip off from you, eh?" Ming Jin replied dryly.

Many months later, towards the end of 2011, I watched ANDREI RUBLEV. A film so rich in scope, so grand in scape, so novelistic, so visually arresting, I merely shook my head when it ended. There really wasn't anything I could say. It was undeniably a masterpiece of highest order. A towering achievement in cinema.

Yes, Tarkovsky, to me, was THAT damn good. I quote what Radoslav said of ANDREI RUBLEV.

"Effortlessly epic with the focus and power of a poem."

Absolutely.

So, finally, I left his last film SACRIFICE for the last. It took me many months before I finally got to watch it.

In fact, I finished it last week, which prompted me to post the Facebook link in the first place. It's not my favourite Tarkovsky film, but those long takes, those moments of undeniable brilliance, and then the last line... "'In the beginning was the Word.' Why is that, Papa?”"

Completing his oeuvre made me feel a little sad. Maybe because I had nothing to look forward to.

And like I did on Facebook, I could finally rank Tarkovsky's films based on preferences.

1) THE ONES THAT BLEW MY MIND AND HAD ME WATCHING CERTAIN SCENES OVER AND OVER AGAIN

- Stalker (it's my first, the first is always the most memorable and precious. I was so excited when I visited the place where he shot Stalker in Estonia last year)
- Andrei Rublev

2) THE ONES I LOVED AND HAD ME EXAMINING CERTAIN SHOTS OVER AND OVER AGAIN

- The Mirror (the childhood sequences, the ending)
- Ivan's Childhood (the dream sequence)

3) THE ONES THAT I'M SURE WILL REVISIT SOMETIME LATER (LIKED THEM LESS THAN THE OTHERS, BUT WERE STILL LEFT BREATHLESS BY MOMENTS OF AWESOMENESS)

- Solaris
- Nostalghia
- Sacrifice

That's how I would rank his films. Although I think THE MIRROR might belong to the first group too. It's a tough decision to make.

Anyway, I guess it's understandable due to my recent lack of updates how quiet this site had became in recent months. But it'll be great to hear from some other Tarkovsky fans, or non-fans here.

Happy 80th birthday, Andrei Tarkovsky.

"The director’s task is to recreate life, its movement, its contradictions, its dynamic and conflicts. It is his duty to reveal every iota of the truth he has seen, even if not everyone finds that truth acceptable. Of course an artist can lose his way, but even his mistakes are interesting provided they are sincere. For they represent the reality of his inner life, of the peregrinations and struggle into which the external world has thrown him."
― Andrei Tarkovsky

"It is a mistake to talk about the artist looking for his subject. In fact, the subject grows within him like a fruit and begins to demand expression. It is like childbirth. The poet has nothing to be proud of. He is not master of the situation, but a servant. Creative work is his only possible form of existence, and his every work is like a deed he has no power to annul. For him to be aware that the sequence of such deeds is due and ripe, that it lies in the very nature of things, he has to have faith in the idea; for only faith interlocks the system of images for which read system of life."
― Andrei Tarkovsky

Experiencing Japan's strongest storm since 1959

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 14:01:50 PDT

3rd of April 2012. It's been 4 years and 1 day since I first moved to Tokyo.

This special event was marked by Japan's strongest storm since 1959.

I got a phone call in the morning from a friend asking whether I wanted to hang out because a bad storm was coming.

I said yes, not entirely sure that the storm was going to be historically bad.

An hour later, I was at Ikebukuro station. It was starting to rain.

She arrived moments later, smiling gleefully.

"Everyone's hurrying home, but we chose to come out. Isn't this crazy (and a little exciting)?" She said.

I agreed. I noticed that she wasn't carrying an umbrella.

We walked through the streets of Ikebukuro. The initial plan was to go to a nearby cafe, but we wanted to eat first.

There was a restaurant that served lunch with all you can eat salad bar (and unlimited drinks). The rain was getting stronger, so we chose to eat there.

As we were finishing our meals, she looked at her iPhone and gasped.

"The storm is bad. 70% of the trains will be cancelled!"

"Oh my." I remarked.

My phone started to ring too, it was mom calling me via Viber.

"Hello." I said.

"Hello. Where are you now?" Mom asked.

"Oh, outside, having lunch." I said.

"There's going to be a huge storm in Tokyo. Why aren't you at home?" Mom said.

"Mmm... I'll be home soon." I said.

"Okay." Mom said. "All the planes to Japan have been canceled today, you know."

When I was on the phone with mom, I was indeed exiting the restaurant. We were heading back to the station, taking the train home.

The wind was getting stronger.

So strong that my umbrella broke when I was about to reach home.

I was a little amused. So I took a photo of it and uploaded it on Instagram, Flickr and Facebook.

I wondered whether my umbrella would have suffered this fate if my friend had accepted my offer to take it on her way home. She was stubborn and would rather walk in the rain.

"I'm already sick. How much worse can I get?" She asked as she dismissed my umbrella, just before she went into her train.

"Right." I said. I wasn't too sure.

Such a historic storm, I regret not taking any videos of it.

I was struck by this thought when I was in my room a few hours later.

The world outside was howling in madness.

I pushed open my window, letting in a large gust of wind.

And this was the view from my room, a cherry blossom tree in the middle of a tremendous storm.

Remembering Leslie Cheung and Anita Mui

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sun, 01 Apr 2012 10:05:15 PDT

During the last few hours, I was wondering why everyone's suddenly posting photos and videos of Leslie Cheung on Facebook. An internet meme I knew nothing about?

And then I remembered that he died on the 1st of April, 9 years ago.

I remember that day. I just came home with mom and sister (grocery shopping) and dad was watching TV. Dad told us he just received news of Leslie's suicide.

My instinct then, of course, was to just dismiss it as an April Fools' Day hoax (which mom did as well), but I knew deep in my heart then that something like that would never be a joke.

As mom sat next to dad, waiting for the news. I walked upstairs and went online, trying to find news about it. Back then, before the days of Twitter and Facebook, when I think I was still using dial-up connection, such news wouldn't appear that quickly online.

Moments later mom called out, saying that news of Leslie Cheung's death was on TV.

So I ran down and watched, in quiet horror.

(Can you believe that 9 years ago, it was still faster to find news on TV than on the Internet?)

Considering that he was an actor you grew up watching, it was impossible not to be shaken by such a horrifying and untimely end. Why would he throw himself off a building?

My father loved John Woo's A BETTER TOMORROW, he would play it over and over again almost every week when I was a kid. So, Chow Yun Fat, Ti Lung and Leslie Cheung were probably some of the earliest Hong Kong actors I knew (along with the Hui brothers, Michael, Ricky and Sam).

A BETTER TOMORROW's theme song was sung by Leslie Cheung.

I remember that 2003 was a horrible year for Hong Kong. It was still reeling from the death of the "Godfather of Cantopop" Roman Tam in late 2002. In early 2003, it was hit by the SARS epidemic, and then, Leslie Cheung died.

Hong Kong films and TV series have long ingrained itself in Malaysian Chinese culture. Until this very day, most Malaysian Chinese people are more familiar with Hong Kong celebrities than local ones. Therefore, some of us always feel this strange familiarity towards Hong Kong itself. We are affected by their pain too.

A few months after Leslie Cheung's death, the singer Anita Mui made a public announcement that she had cervical cancer in September 2003. She was one of the most important Hong Kong singers of her generation. She passed away in December 30, 2003. I learned about her death on radio. 2003 was indeed a dark year.

I always listened to radio when I sleep. It was a habit I had ever since I was a child. Maybe because I didn't like the silence, and mostly because I liked waking up to the comforting sounds of pop songs.

I still listen to radio now when I go to bed, but it's actually one of those internet radio stations on iTunes. I don't get my news from the radio anymore.

This blog post was really meant to be about Leslie Cheung alone, but I cannot help but write about Anita Mui too because their paths intertwined so much.

Leslie Cheung still lives on. All because of the amount of times I had to go through Wong Kar Wai films for inspiration, whether I was writing a script, or preparing for a shoot, or waiting to edit a film. I think I only started watching WKW films (or rather, the ones he starred in) regularly after his death.

He was fantastic in DAYS OF BEING WILD. I still quote his "bird with no legs" line from the film.

Or his "the more I try to forget her, the more I remember" quote towards the end of ASHES OF TIME.

By the way, the ending song of DAYS OF BEING WILD is sung by Anita Mui (a beautiful Cantonese cover of JUNGLE DRUMS).

And this is her live performance of the song in her 1999 concert.

I guess their passing marked the last time I really listened to Cantopop. It's been nearly a decade.

I'll sign off by sharing with you one of my absolute favourites of Anita Mui's songs, LIFE WRITTEN ON WATER 似水流年. Always gives me goosebumps.

Oh, and this is Leslie, covering Anita Mui's LIFE WRITTEN ON WATER.

Sharing some episodes of ROAD TO AFA that I directed

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 20:12:11 PDT

This is very late, since the Asian Film Awards ended two weeks ago. So you probably already knew that the Oscar-winning A SEPARATION was the night's major winner. (full results here)

But I haven't been updating this blog much these days, so please bear with me.

You might remember that I mentioned directing a series of interviews with a few major Japanese film figures last month while suffering from a hideous food poisoning as part of the ROAD TO AFA (Asian Film Awards) program hosted by Janet Hsieh. A month earlier, in January, I was in Taipei for these interviews.

I didn't exactly blog about my Taipei escapades, so I'll post up some of my old tweets related to it.

Flying off to Taipei at 7:20am tomorrow morning. Which means that I have to catch the first (4:30ish) JR train. Directing some interviews
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 13, 2012

4:12am. Waiting for Mejiro station to open so I can catch 1st train to Haneda airport@ JR 目白駅 (Mejiro Sta.) instagr.am/p/gzKbg/
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 13, 2012

Been a long night, I'm going to sleep before the plane takes off. Tokyo to Taipei. 4.5 hr sleep. Good enough. twitter.com/greatswifty/st…
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 13, 2012

Nice sleep on the plane. Just a blink and I'm now at the hotel lobby, waiting for the rest of the crew. Eating chips twitter.com/greatswifty/st…
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 14, 2012

With director Hou Hsiao-Hsien@ 台北之家 instagr.am/p/hAtR8/
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 14, 2012

With Starry Starry Night director Tom Lin Shu-yu, main actor Eric Lin. Was directing an interview hosted@ 台北之家 instagr.am/p/hB__6/
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 14, 2012

Here are the first three interviewees, Hou Hsiao-Hsien, Tom Lin (director of STARRY STARRY NIGHT) and Eric Lin (star of STARRY STARRY NIGHT), regarding the Past and Present of Taiwan Films.

After that, I interviewed SEEDIQ BAAL team: director Wei Te-Sheng, cinematographer Chin Ting-Chang and actor Umin Boya regarding the beliefs of filmmakers. The interview was conducted in Wei's office. He's just such a cool and great guy.

After shooting Seediq Baal director Wei Te-Sheng's interview, we had a wondrous feast. Love Taipei! instagr.am/p/hE_kK/
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 14, 2012

The JUMP ASHIN! team, producer Lee Lieh, cast members Lawrence Ko (eventual Best Supporting Actor winner) and Lin Chen-Xi (whom I met a few times before at the Pusan and Tokyo Film Festivals at 2010, back then I referred to her by her nick name Lin Zaizai) spoke about the passion of Taiwanese.

Actress Guey Lun Mei (nominated as Best Supporting Actress for Tsui Hark's FLYING SWORDS AT DRAGON GATE) and YOU'RE THE APPLE OF MY EYE lead actor Ko Chen-Tung, along with Hou Hsiao Hsien again, give some insight on the mysterious relationship between directors and actors.

Team photo after directing interview with Guey Lun Mei hosted by Janet Hsieh instagr.am/p/hWZwg/
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) January 15, 2012

So there you go, those were the Taiwanese episodes.

Here are the Japanese ones.

Directors Yoji Yamada and Hirokazu Kore-eda speak about Japanese films about familial relationships.

After that, Yoji Yamada join directors Kiyoshi Kurosawa and Sono Sion, along with actor Ihara Tsuyoshi (LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA) to talk about Japanese films on the international stage.

Finally, Ihara Tsuyoshi and actresses Meisa Kuroki and Satomi Ishihara speak about recent manga adaptations and horror films that had always been popular among Japanese films.

Aside from some coursework back in 2006 for my Graduate Diploma in Media Production classes at Murdoch University, I have never actually "directed" any interviews before, especially those with the talking head format. So it was exceptionally educational. Although the poor interviewees and my team had to occasionally suffer through my unorthodox style (of changing set-ups between questions in an interview), I'm glad everything came together in the end. Was very grateful for the opportunity.

There were still a number of other interviews done by the producers of ROAD TO AFA with the film people of Indonesia, Thailand, Philippines, South Korea and Hong Kong which are worth a look. So go and visit the AFA Youtube page if you're interested.

Some nice scenery during my TV shoot

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sat, 17 Mar 2012 04:26:43 PDT

I've been doing my TV shoot since the 10th of March (hence the lack of updates).

The majority of the shoot took place in Sekinchan. This marked my 4th shoot in that location, from my short film LOVE SUICIDES in 2008, to Woo Ming Jin's WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER (which I produced) in 2009, to last year's LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER.

It's unsurprising that this region had became quite a popular place for film and TV shoots, the scenery had often been stunning.

These are some of the sights I saw early in the morning, just before camera rolled.

On the day of my birthday, 10 days ago, which was also the last time I updated my blog, I was actually having my very first script reading with the primary cast members.

I had fried rice for lunch (right after the script reading).

Then I had a yummy burger during the production meeting.

At night, I had dinner with my family.

That was 11 days ago.

I dare not post any recent photos of myself because I have been utterly sunburnt since the shoot begun. I am now as tanned as Louis Koo, the skin on my face peeled off during the 3rd day of the shoot, while the skin on my arms are peeling off at this very moment that I'm writing this.

But other than that, everything's been fine. It's the biggest production I've ever directed (and my very first Malay-language one), lots of things to learn, lots of things to experience. It's also amusing to see, between takes, my cast members sometimes being mobbed by passers-by asking for photographs. No one wanted to take photos with the director though :(

I had a two day break beginning from yesterday. Which was good, since it had been quite a grueling shoot. It was also good for my dad, since it was his birthday. (yup, my birthday was on the 6th, his was on the 16th.)

Dad's birthday today. Had crab porridge and fish noodles for dinner. Went to see JOHN CARTER after that, I liked it. twitter.com/greatswifty/st…
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) March 16, 2012

Managed to recharge my energies during the two-day break. The shoot is nearing its end. I'm returning to Sekinchan tomorrow, at 6am. I'm kinda excited.

6th of March, 2012. Happy birthday to me!

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 08:48:13 PST

Forty-five minutes ago, the clock struck 12, I have been bombarded with Facebook and Twitter birthday wishes from friends, family, acquaintances, people I've never met, film people, former primary school friends, former secondary school friends, former university friends, frenemies and the like. Thanks, folks. It's been a colorful life.

A year ago today, I was in Tokyo, spending the entire day in the editing room, editing a little half-finished short film called LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER. I met a few friends who dropped by, had a meeting with my producer Yuiko, and then at night, I left for the airport, and prepared to fly to Kuala Lumpur... I almost lost my computer bag.

A year has passed. The difference is that I'm now spending my birthday in Malaysia.

But at this very moment I am trying to complete a script for a little project that I'm doing in April.

In a few hours after I sleep and wake up, it will be rehearsals for a TV series that I'm directing. (it's the main reason why I'm back)

Yes, it's all work.

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

EMPTY KINGDOM interviews me

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 02:35:43 PST

The very awesome arts and culture website Empty Kingdom had just posted an interview they did with me.

In this interview, I discuss why I stick with short films, and mostly on my latest short LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER.

On sticking with short films and whether I would move to feature-length territory:

"It’s not really a conscious decision stick to short films. I initially started making short films because I like the medium, I can tell stories that can be told in a very short time. It’s also a way for me to experiment with all kinds of styles and techniques before I apply them on a feature-length film. However, I have also co-written, produced and edited a couple of feature films (Woo Ming Jin’s WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER, and THE TIGER FACTORY) to make sure that I don’t limit myself only to short films.

As a filmmaker, compared to a feature, short films are easier to put together, so while I spend the past two years developing my feature film script (took a year to write one, threw it away, ended up writing another), I had plenty of time making my short films. It’s also just a way for me to prevent myself from getting rusty, really.

It had always been my intention to go into feature length territory, but even if I do, I will still be making short films. It’s like alternating between writing a novel or a short story, I like both."

On influential factors / people that contributed to LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER.

But when I prepared for Last Fragments of Winter, I think the two biggest influences that I drew from were the works of Tarkovsky and Krzysztof Kieslowski, especially Double Life of Veronique from the latter. Because there was just something so mysterious and unexplainable about it, yet I found myself captivated by how it made me feel, which was similar to Mieko Kanai’s short story.

One person I met made the film what it is today. I was returning from a lengthy film festival trip in Europe early last year, as I was in a bus back from the airport. I saw, through the window, a young girl walking around at the streets with a huge camera that I’ve never seen before. The bus stopped nearby, I hopped off and ran to where the girl was, just to ask her about her camera. The camera turned out to be a Mamiya RB67, she was nice enough to bring me to a junk shop where she bought her wares, her name was Miho. Although I had just written a rough outline of the story before my trip, it was after my encounter with her that helped “solidify* things.

On whether the earthquake and tsunami of March 11, 2011 in Japan affected my direction of LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER because news soundbites of the event were heard in a scene.

"It did. Last Fragments of Winter was shot in both Japan and Malaysia. The snow sequences in Japan were shot just a few days before the earthquake, while the Malaysian sequences were shot a week after. I actually returned to Malaysia just two days before the tragedy.

What happened saddened me, but I also felt a lot of love and admiration for the people of Japan, who went through all these with so much dignity and spirit.

I felt that I had to capture this particular moment in my life with my film, therefore when I was shooting on location (at the streets of Kuala Lumpur), and there was a donation drive going on, I decided to have them in the background as well. It was my way to show solidarity with my friends in Japan, which had already became a second home to me. And when I was shooting at the corner shop, the news on TV was indeed about the events in Japan, so I didn’t make any move to switch off the TV either."

I spoke about a handful of other stuff too, gears I have fallen in love with, upcoming projects, what motivates me, etc etc."
Go check out the interview.

Rest In Peace, Aunty Mak Fong 楓姨，一路好走

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 01:18:13 PST

Yesterday, I found out with sadness that the veteran actress Mak Fong 麦楓 had passed away after a brief battle with lung cancer. She was 77.

I've known Mak Fong, or rather, "Fong Yee" (Aunty Fong) which she is fondly known to most of the people in the Malaysian entertainment industry, since I was very young, through the TV series that she acted in, and also in a few events that I attended with my mother when I was a child. My mother and "Fong Yee" both acted in a TV series called EMPAT SEKAWAN long ago before I was born.

It was quite surprising to meet her again in 2009 when we collaborated on a film that I produced, Woo Ming Jin's WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER 遗情.

Woman On Fire Looks For Water trailer

She actually lived only a few blocks away from my house, so Ming Jin and I met her in a vegetarian restaurant just opposite her place to discuss about the film. I was quite excited to work with her.

Our shoot lasted for a day and a half. She played Ai Ling, the long lost lover of the protagonist Ah Kan (Chung Kok Keong).

I remember it rather well. It was meant to be rather simplistic, but outside factors made it very difficult for us. The harbor behind us being too noisy, or there was then a sudden rain. So we had a lot of rest between takes, she would marvel about new technology when she saw Ming Jin and Chun the cinematographer going through footages on the computer, regaled me with stories of her experiences in the many production shoots she participated in (both local and foreign productions). And then, the fun part was when she started gossiping with me about other actors and actresses.

In this scene, the dying Ah Kan was returning Ai Ling's old photos to her. These old photos were indeed photos of Aunty Mak Fong during her younger days, which she kindly allowed us to use. :)

("When I was young, they always said that I look like a Japanese girl!" Aunty Fong said.

"Oh yeah! You do!" I agreed.)

Towards the end, when we were about to do a night scene, and I was going through her lines with her. I remarked how impeccable her Mandarin sounded (she had done a lot of radio dramas) compared to a normal Malaysian. She asked whether she could speak like that in her upcomng scene, and I was like "yes!! That will add layers to your character!! (in previous scenes her dialogue was in Cantonese).

Since then, her car scene in Mandarin had became a rather talked-about scene among locals who understood Mandarin. Fellow filmmakers questioned why she would sound so educated and sophisticated when she spoke Mandarin, which was in contrary to her supposedly small-village character. So yes I got a lot of flak for that scene.

Why would I be foolish enough to let her talk like that? I don't know, I just really liked the way she spoke Mandarin. And until this very day, even if I do grimace a little when watching that scene, I don't think I would change anything.

We finished the film after midnight, and we drove her home. At that time, it was 2am. Aunty Mak Fong had only a few hours to rest as she had to go for a commercial shoot at 6am. That was how hard she worked. That was something many would have probably overlooked.

A few months later, WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER made its world premiere at the Venice Film Festival 2009 (together with my short film, KINGYO). It was a glorious moment, and one of the highlights of both Ming Jin and my filmmaking careers.

I was so swept up with this that I realized I didn't really get to share the news with Aunty Mak Fong, nor did she ever get to see WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER. Sometimes, I blamed it on the nature of the film industry, everything moving so fast, with one project coming after another, it is hard to slow down, it is hard to keep track of things. Sometimes, I blame it on the fact that I was mostly in Tokyo, so it was hard for me to really look after things that I was supposed to look after in Malaysia. In the end, they were really just excuses, I have always been bad at keeping in touch with people.

Three years after WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER. In February 2012, which is actually earlier this month, Ming Jin and I were preparing for a new short film that we were both co-directing. Aunty Mak Fong was the first person who come to mind for a particular role.

So I called her. She answered.

I wished her a happy Chinese New Year and asked how she was.

She told me she was fine.

I asked whether she had time to act in our new short film.

"Unfortunately, I'm a little ill. I don't think I can help." She said.

"Oh I see, get well soon!" I said, oblivious to the severity of her ailment. She sounded well enough, I assumed it was a flu.

That was the last conversation I had with her. Less than a month before she passed away.

It is often easy to overlook some of the dear treasures of our local entertainment scene, this is perhaps an ailment suffered by many of us Malaysians. But nevertheless, we had lost a cherished and much loved figure of the Malaysian entertainment industry, someone who had spent more than half of a century creating many memories for many different people.

Rest in peace, Aunty Mak Fong.

Regarding the Oscars...

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 12:53:53 PST

The Oscars is just a few hours away, and if I don't oversleep until the afternoon, I might be able to catch its live stream on my computer.

As some of you may know already, my father is a film buff (and film critic/ commentator), so it's inevitable that I have been following the Oscars ever since I was a child. The earliest ones I could remember were the ones in 1991, when films like DANCES WITH WOLVES, GHOST or THE GODFATHER 3 were the ones that dominated the ceremony. My father was, like most sane film lovers, a fan of THE GODFATHER films, so he cared.

Surprisingly, that was one of those rare years when my mother cared too. Like most people back then, she cared a lot about GHOST (in my vague memories, GHOST was like the biggest thing then, there were all sorts of references about it, and "Unchained Melody" was playing everywhere I went), she was probably happy that she was taking pottery classes then because of the pottery scene.

Somehow towards the weeks leading up to the Oscars, and before it, my parents would be going through the nominated films on video tapes or laser discs, I could remember being traumatized by MISERY.

In the end, Kevin Costner swept the awards for DANCES WITH WOLVES, my mom didn't mind then, since she liked Kevin Costner too. (Her Kevin Costner fandom peaked with THE BODYGUARD, and then plummeted after WATERWORLD) DANCES WITH WOLVES stood out to me because of its title, and when footage of the film were shown during announcements of nominees, I was always looking to see whether there were really people dancing with wolves, I ended up disappointed.

Watching Billy Crystal host the show would always make me laugh, because even though we had never seen the nominated films, his opening song and dance routine or monologue would pretty much brief us what we are going to be seeing. I still remember his 1991 opening very vividly. Especially his HOME ALONE impression. (I was six, I loved HOME ALONE)

When you grew up with films playing such a huge role in your life, you sort of expect this to be the same with everyone else around you. Only, gradually, to your disappointment, you realize most of your friends in school had no idea what the hell were you babbling about. (of course, thinking that a 7-8 year old kid trying to tell his friends about "The Godfather", or "Misery", would have been quite an odd sight then.)

That was the earliest Oscar that I could remember.

And since then, from childhood to adulthood, watching the Oscars with my father was like an annual religious experience, sort of like the Super Bowl. We used to watch delayed telecast at night, and watching the Oscars at night is a much more different experience than watching its live telecast during the day. I felt closer to the people in the ceremony, more impressed by the glitz and glamour of the stars. As a child, you cannot really fathom what other events would bring THAT many stars together in one venue.

It was exciting then, to predict and guess which film would win, which actor and actress would win the acting awards, I would root for the films I loved, the performances that moved my heart, and either feel happy that the greatness of those I rooted for were reinforced by their Oscar wins, knowing that they would end up deservingly in film history. That was how big I thought the Oscars were back then.

I remember my shock when Tom Hanks didn't win for SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, SAVING PRIVATE RYAN losing out to SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE. I remember the horror I endured when the mind-blowingly awesome FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING lost out to A BEAUTIFUL MIND (which I liked too).

Occasionally the people of Malaysia would care a bit more about the Oscars. Usually when Ang Lee was involved. Or the year of the TITANIC. Or the three years of LORD OF THE RINGS.

Even when I moved to Perth (2004-2006), I made a point to catch the delayed telecast of the Oscars at night (making sure that I wouldn't go online that day and know about the results). The year MILLION DOLLAR BABY won, I felt a little bad for Martin Scorsese. And I thought that my favorite SIDEWAYS was "robbed" too, probably because it was funny.

And then, the following year, by accident I found out in advance that CRASH won over BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN. I was devastated that a yellow brother got robbed...

... so I chose not to watch the Oscars that night! I was indignant. (even though I did enjoy CRASH when I first saw the film at the cinemas!)

But once you stumble into the film industry, and start making the sort of stuff that you think are films, and as you travel around film festivals meeting all kinds of industry insiders, becoming increasingly aware of the machinations of show business, the unpredictability and mythic quality of the Oscars begin to fade. The magic it held over me almost all my life felt a little... different. Perhaps instead of it being a faraway myth as it was to me, it became more grounded, more realistic.

Following all kinds of Oscar pundits on their blogs, websites and tweeter doesn't help much either. The surprise element is gone, I "knew too much", so most times I knew who was going to win weeks before the actual ceremony. I became aware of the precursor awards, and the history and the patterns, so I could actually see the slow inevitable march towards the Oscars for a film that had long been favored to win.

(Of course there are still surprises, but they are rare.)

So yes, I know it is most probably that in a few hours, THE ARTIST is going to win almost everything. (It's such an immensely likable film. I watched it just a few weeks ago and I definitely had a lot of good time.) There's probably only a bit of suspense with Best Actor and Best Actress.

I still root for films that I loved and hoped to see them being rewarded for their greatness. After all, I'm a film lover as much as a filmmaker, and the years I spent as a film lover dwarfed my years as a filmmaker. But I do miss the magic and the mystery of the Oscars that captivated me so very much when I was growing up. Sometimes, too much knowledge does ruin the beauty of ambiguity, and when faced with reality, there's a part of me wanting to cling on to whatever shreds of illusion I could find. Or maybe it's really just my way of reconnecting with feeling of wonder I had as a child.

Maybe it's just nostalgia.

Creative Spotlight: Episode #96 – Edmund Yeo (JAPAN CINEMA interviews me)

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 21:19:47 PST

The awesome Japan Cinema had posted a very in-depth interview I recently did with its editor-in-chief Marcello as part of their "Creative Spotlight" series.

In this interview, I spoke about filmmaking, my own storytelling approaches, my interest in adapting the works of Yasunari Kawabata (my short films LOVE SUICIDES and KINGYO were loose adaptations), the creative processes of my short films, EXHALATION and INHALATION, the state of Malaysian and other Asian cinema, and also, Hayao Miyazaki's LAPUTA.

On whether I feel Malaysian writers and filmmakers aren’t getting enough credit in the Asian film society...

"Not really, our industry is quite young, so I think we’re getting the sort of credit that we deserve. It’s only in the past decade, beginning from the early 00s that Malaysian writers and filmmakers were getting their films shown beyond our own country thanks to a movement that is called by some as the ‘Malaysian New Wave’. (The Tokyo International Film Festival was one of the first few prestigious international film festivals to support these films.) Many of these filmmakers are relatively young and have only 3-4 films in their filmography, so there are still much more for us to work around with, and much more for audiences to discover in the future."

And on Hayao Miyazaki's LAPUTA.

" I will name a film by a filmmaker whom I’ve often neglect to mention as an important influences to me. I first discovered Laputa by Hayao Miyazaki when I was eight, I was already watching anime by then (Doraemon, Dragon Ball Z etc.), but I was so blown away by Laputa, the fact that the film was so rich and had so many things in it, romance, steampunk, adventure, a melancholic meditation in loss, I ended up rewatching my VHS for three straight nights. First, with my little sister, the second day, with my grandma, and then, finally, by myself. It was through Laputa that I discovered the rest of Studio Ghibli. But you can never forget the first, and that was Laputa."

I think it was the opening song that did me in. I was 8, the song was so beautiful to me then that I was stunned. It's good to know now that even as a child, I had some appreciation for music then.

Here's a video of Joe Hisaishi performing a Laputa medley with an orchestra.

It's hard to direct a series of interviews with legendary Japanese directors when you are ill.

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 13:30:43 PST

I came back to Tokyo on the 8th, arriving early in the morning.

As the day went on, I knew something was wrong.

When night came, and I woke up repeatedly for trips to the loo, it was obvious what went wrong.

My annual bout of food-poisoning!

Urgh. Been wondering why I had been feeling so weak the past day since arriving at Tokyo. Food-poisoning. Plane food. I'm pretty ill.
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) February 8, 2012

Which sucked, considering that I was supposed to direct a series of interviews with a number of notable Japanese directors, actors and actresses the following day for the Asian Film Awards (which is part of the Hong Kong International Film Festival).

But I managed to drag myself out of the room the next morning (not as easy as it sounds, really) and headed to Shinjuku to meet up with my crew in Hong Kong. (a month earlier, I was in Taipei to film interviews for the same program)

Dragging myself out of the room. Directing some interview segments today. I hope I won't pass out. Bad timing to get ill.
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) February 8, 2012

My first interviewee was filmmaking legend Yoji Yamada.

Interviewing legendary director Yoji Yamada in half an hour.
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) February 9, 2012

Interestingly, I first saw a Yoji Yamada film 4 years ago at the Hong Kong International Film Festival 2008. KABEI - OUR MOTHER was its opening film. I even managed to speak briefly with its star Asano Tadanobu.

I attended that film festival just a few days before I moved to Tokyo.

During the interview, Yamada-san spoke about his experiences with his long-running TORA-san series, where he described the set as being at home, while the cast and crew were like family members, because they had managed to work so many years together (the 48 Tora-san films were released from 1969 to 1995). Which made a lot of sense, over the few short years as a filmmaker myself, I have had a number of regular collaborators, and they sometimes feel the most familiar to me, especially nowadays.

Here's a photo of Yoji Yamada, me and my crew!

We immediately followed that with an interview with actor Tsuyoshi Ihara, from 13 ASSASSINS and LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA.

Next interviewee, Tsuyoshi Ihara. Actor of LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA and 13 ASSASSINS
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) February 9, 2012

As an actor, he wanted to participate in so many productions from different countries around the world that in the end, no one would ever keep track of him. That is an awesome thought. That's the beauty of the film industry, that we can transcend national and cultural boundaries just like that, if we put our hearts to it. Having done Malaysian and Japanese productions, I started realizing that these interview segments were the first ever Hong Kong productions I've participated in!

I was getting gravely ill. The toilet visits were frequent. It was great that I didn't pass out nor, er, vomit, during the shoots.

Finally, at night, we interviewed the actress Satomi Ishihara.

Next interviewee, actress Satomi Ishihara. I first knew about her back in 2007 via the J-dorama H2. She was fab
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) February 9, 2012

Her latest film is Sadako 3D, which will come out in May 2012. But no, she's not playing Sadako.

I think Ishihara's a very talented actress with a unique screen presence who occasionally elevates the material that she's given to work with (based on my memories of the H2 J-dorama), so I'm intrigued to see what other films will she be working on in the near future. (... if you make a search for her with the search bar on your right, you might notice that I have mentioned her in less measured, and, er, irrational blog posts written years ago, before I am the relatively respected filmmaker that I am now)

So I survived the first day of the shoot. Not entirely in great shape. Half-dead, actually. But I bought myself some medicine that could hopefully make things better on the second day.

The second day of the shoot began with another important filmmaker, Kiyoshi Kurosawa. I remembered him most for a brief encounter I had with him two years ago (Jan 2010) at Tokyo University of Arts, where he teaches. I was doing some sound work for my short film, EXHALATION, and then I bumped into him.

2 yrs ago at Tokyo Arts Uni, met a familiar guy so I waved at him. Then I realized he was director Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Interviewing him next!
— Edmund Yeo (@greatswifty) February 10, 2012

I loved BRIGHT FUTURE. The images of those guys in Che Guevara T-shirts remain in my mind.

This BRIGHT FUTURE excerpt begins with a scene of these Che Guevara guys from the film.

Finally, at night, we interviewed Hirokazu Kore-eda, a brilliant filmmaker whose works have influenced me immensely.

Oshiro Maeda, the child actor of his latest film I WISH, was nominated for Best Newcomer in the Asian Film Awards.

These interviews are now in post-production, I'll be curious to see how they look like when they come out end of the month. You'll be hearing from me, of course.

Two years have gone by since the shoot ended, I'm still going through some lingering effects of the food poisoning. Trying to eat simpler food, trying to rest a little more, my physical condition isn't entirely 100%. I don't think I've ever gone through a shoot while being ill, it's a little tough.

Just a few hours, I wanted to tempt fate and see whether I had gone healthy, so I had a large bowl of ramen. A few spoons of it knocked me out. I guess I'll just stick to cookies and yogurts until I'm very sure I'm fine!

Jeppe Ronde and Woo Ming Jin's GIRL IN THE WATER (which I helped produce and edit) wins Best Short Film at Danish Oscars

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 19:30:00 PST

Last night, I received this very unexpected and wonderful news that Jeppe Ronde and Woo Ming Jin's GIRL IN THE WATER, a 20-minute short that I helped to produce and edit, had won the BEST SHORT FILM Award at the Robert Awards (the Danish Oscars)!

Sajee Apiwong in GIRL IN THE WATER

So I'm one of the proud recipients of the Danish Oscars. :D

(Meanwhile, Lars Von Trier's MELANCHOLIA won 10 awards, including Best Film, Director, Screenplay, Actress and Supporting Actress)

The GIRL IN THE WATER shoot back in June 2011 was a very tiring and arduous one where we have to work under insane weather conditions and other crazy circumstances beyond our control. It was probably one of the most challenging shoots I've ever endured, I was even the boom operator! (because our audio guy pulled out just days before the shoot)

(It was stressful for me in a personal level too as I had to deal with the risk of becoming the black sheep in my family after I had to miss a cousin's wedding, a matter taken much more seriously than I can convey)

But in the end, it was a highly illuminating experience that was worth all of the blood and tears that we've shed. Many thanks to the cast and crew of GIRL IN THE WATER for making all these happen. And also to the kind folks of Sungai Ular for helping us so much during the shoot.

Directing Life - article about me on Style: Magazine (Jan 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 19:38:18 PST

I never imagined myself ever appearing on Style: Magazine. Ever. Not in my wildest dreams. Life is pretty insane. But here's Nicole Foo Bihzhu's feature on me at Style: Magazine.

I have to thank my old secondary school classmate Jesly Hieng once again, for scanning this. I was unable to find the magazine anywhere since I got back!

2nd Q&A session. LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER/ GIRL IN THE WATER @ International Film Festival Rotterdam 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 22:06:13 PDT

On the 27th of January, after being much better-rested, I did the second Q and A session for LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER and GIRL IN THE WATER moderated by Paolo Bertolin. This one's pretty long since a kindly audience member was willing to help me film the entire session!

The entire thing lasted for more than half an hour... which was, er, actually longer than the running time of LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER (23 minutes), but I trimmed it down to spare your eyes and ears. I talked quite a bit about both short films, anecdotes during the film shoot and many others.

Here's the video.

When it ended, an elderly gentleman approached me and told me that an image from LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER, the one with the girl standing alone on a bridge covered in snow, would stay in his mind for a very long time. It was quite humbling.

Talking about the short films LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER and GIRL IN THE WATER @ International Film Festival Rotterdam 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Edmund Yeo) — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 22:06:13 PDT

I got back from Rotterdam yesterday after spending three nights at the festival. Everything was like a blur, my stay there was so brief (last year, I spent a week in Rotterdam before heading off to Clermont-Ferrand for another week). Already, I'm prepping for a short film shoot in the next few days.

Arriving at Rotterdam in the early morning of Jan 26th, I immediately had to prepare myself for the first festival screening in the afternoon. Not a lot of rest there.

Like I've mentioned in this post. Two short films I was involved in last year, LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER (which I directed, and making its European premiere)

And the Danish-Malaysian co-production, GIRL IN THE WATER (co-directed by Jeppe Ronde and Woo Ming Jin, produced and edited by me)

Were both part of this WAITING FOR SNOW IN MY KAMPONG program, along with an anthology of shorts by other leading Malaysian filmmakers.

Jeppe and I stuck around for the post-screening Q and A session, moderated by programmer Gertjan Zuilhof, where we each talked about our experiences with filming in a foreign country, and also how our ideas came about.

Here's the video. It's pretty brief.