Here is where independent local film needs encouragement - it's opening day, and having rushed to the cinema to get in the theatre just on time, I found out to my chagrin I was the only one there. I counted five people (including myself) for the movie, and I believe the two people in front of me fell asleep. The two people on my left looked like expatriates.
For my part, though, I - can't say I enjoyed it. I was terrified by the film, because it's exactly what I do. Every time the film turned to Clara's (Kym Ng) storyline I got an absolutely terrifying panic attack. Wee Li-lin captured this storyline remarkably truthfully - I'm not a tai-tai, I'm an indie filmmaker, but I can relate to the same sense of dislocation and lack of purpose as Clara suffers from. I wouldn't be surprised if people see in themselves the same sort of wanderlust that is hemmed in by the oppressively ubiquitous shopping centre. And, I felt quite stupid doing this when the couple in front of me were nodding off, but I cried at several points. The writing and performance here is incredibly true, and major, major kudos go to Wee Li-lin's writing and direction, and Kym Ng's acting.
The other two storylines are by no means subordinate, though. I identified with Clara because I recognised myself in her, and for those who do not, I am fairly sure you will find yourself in either Aaron or Renu. The deeply reassuring thing is that Renu's storyline resolves itself in a positive way - sent off in safe hands, with the bicycle her parents were unable to provide her with. This treatment, set against the relative lack of hope faced by Aaron and Clara, gives us at least some hope that there are still human beings in this concrete city.
Wee Li-lin's direction is excellent - it is not only competent, but it also requires a deep, complete understanding of the themes underlying the film, and in this respect Wee Li-lin exceeds the conceptual requirements of the film admirably. Her films are often littered with strong visual images, and Gone Shopping is no exception: you will remember the images of this film long after you forget the dialogue (indeed, this might be a given given that the characters code-switch across about five languages). The cast is also up to this challenge, and not once did I feel the performances were out of character. As with Cages, I always felt inclined to blame the writing rather than the performance if any scenes felt weak.
Having seen Autograph Book, Another Guy and Math Tuition (is that what it's called?) I was quite amused to find myself second-guessing the approach I expected Wee Li-lin to take over the course of this production. The mark is subtle, but it is there - the cinematographic style, the juxtaposition of image and sound - clever sleights-of-hand that will keep you guessing even if you already are second-guessing.
Now for the bad news - I believe this is not a film Singaporean audiences will take to. It does not have the traditional Hollywood driving plotline, neither does it have the extensive exposition to be found in films such as the Matrix, nor the ebb of inevitability lent by time in the classical Greek dramas and in films such as the Pianist. The structure of this film is much more like that of the Absurdist playwrights or transgressional, Dostoevskian writers: these characters are set in a circumstance that they cannot get out of at their will, only at the will of others, and their development is their realisation that if they reject the restrictions imposed on them by this circumstance, they will be free to give their life meaning and purpose.
Philosophical grandiose aside, it means this film requires its audience to think and participate; it is completely dead otherwise. I like to think this is not a flaw of the film, it is the nature of the style; depending on the audience, it can be either tremendously effective (as it was for me) or tremendously ineffective (as it was for the couple in front of me). I'm surprised it opened at GV, I imagine the Picturehouse would have been a more suitable location.
This film feels, to me, like a muted, Singaporean version of Requiem for a Dream. The themes, the through-lines, are the same: addiction, the search for self and the loss of self-identity to addiction, and the association of "happiness" to a construct which is ultimately inherently empty. The treatment is similar, albeit the film is able to retain an element of hope even while reinforcing its theme of consumerism and materialism in Renu's storyline.
Ultimately, let's just put it this way: I suspect, sadly, that the film will be a commercial failure. It might even be a critical failure despite Wee Li-lin's technical ability, because of the style employed. However, when it comes down to it, the film affected me deeply, and that's one more person inspired by this piece of work than if it had never been made and released at all. I'd encourage everyone to go and watch this, if only in the name of supporting local film. Who knows? You might enjoy it, or you might be as terrified by it as I was. |
