my fave films of SGIFF 2023

some thoughts on the limited films i saw at this year's Singapore International Film Festival (SGIFF), its 34th edition (though we were born in the same year). they were written on the fly, and emerging from the darkness of cinemas, on IG Stories, because we seem to prefer limited words as part of time-limited pictures nowadays!

limited to mid-length and feature films, in no particular order:

Jow Zhi Wei, 'Tomorrow Is a Long Time', 2023

Tulapop Saenjaroen, "Mangosteen", 2023

Badrul Hisham Ismail, 'Maryam Pagi Ke Malam', 2023

Komtouch Napattaloong, 'Hours of Ours', 2023

Béla Tarr and Ágnes Hranitzky, 'Werckmeister Harmonies', 2000/2023 (restoration)

Thaiddhi, Nay Wunn Ni, Myo Thar Khin, Aung Min, and Lamin Oo, 'Ten Years Myanmar', 2023

Phạm Thiên Ân, 'Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell', 2023

Amanda Nell Eu, 'Tiger Stripes', 2023

Christian Petzold, 'Afire', 2023

P/S: Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell ended up deservedly winning Best Film!

the long day closes

Terence Davies was easily “Britain's greatest living film director,” as the Evening Standard recognised: from his transcendental trilogy of shorts, to his pointilist, absolutely essential pair of debut features, interrogating familial memory, religion and sexuality, and the adolescent self, plus his lyrical documentary on his city, Liverpool; from, more recently, his adaptations of classic novels and plays, which stick out in time, to his still highly personal biopics of poets. his passing, at 77, aches as hard as Abbas Kiarostami's (who was 76), because they both still had so much more to share—Davies just released a short film last month, entitled "Passing Time".

i first watched his cinema, on DVD, at 18 and i still think of certain fades, musical sequences, and even wallpaper patterns, half a life later. he was a true auteur; pure poetry and passionate pain on screen. he arrived without precedence and leaves without a successor. his epitaph quotes Horace: “Pulvis et Umbra Sumus” (“We are but dust and shadows”). vale, maestro.

'The Long Day Closes,' 1992

taipei story

in appreciation of 楊德昌 Edward Yang who, over seven and a quarter films i experienced during a solitary and angry youth, taught me that: everyday life can be the stuff of high art, even sensational subjects should be quietly observed, epic tales must be told through the smallest details, women are strong and men weak (but both foolish), ‘80s to ‘90s Taiwan fashion was the bomb, you can make primarily Western influences all your own, beauty and transcendence can derive from work limitations and commercial/national rejection, human relations (especially within the family and between lovers, of adolescence) are at the heart of what we do, and that you can be a bespectacled, polymathic, rake thin utter nerd and still land 蔡琴 Tsai Chin as your partner.

thank you to fellow filmmaker Steve Chen, from whose photos i was first alerted to this retrospective exhibition at 臺北市立美術館 Taipei Fine Arts Museum (and for letting me crash at his!). it’s a privilege to peek behind the scenes at Yang’s obsessive archive to appreciate how much anal-retentive work and collaboration goes into living, then making art of life, somehow making a living off art, and hopefully producing eternal life and light. pure joy and inspiration!

- 𝐿𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑥𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. 𝑀𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑤𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚.

- 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠? 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒!

- 𝑀𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠, "𝑊𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠."

- 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑒?

- 𝐼𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒.

— 楊德昌 Edward Yang, 一一 (Yi Yi: A One and A Two), 2000