Remember, Remember, The 22nd of December

It's incredibly fucking rare, but sometimes, just sometimes, you get a perfect day.

The last time this happened I was too stupid to write down the date. All I know is that it was a Wednesday in my first year of Uni, as Spring was gradually turning into Summer. It was a day where nothing necesarily went incredibly well, but nothing shit happened, which was a rarity in itself. I chilled out with friends, shot some 8mm footage with my new camera, the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and later that night we got to see our friend dressed as drag on stage in a University Union 'Blind Date' event. Doesn't sound like much, but it was a day of fun and frolics that will never be forgotten,It was a good day the way Ice Cube rapped about how 'Today Was A Good Day' in the hood, and just like the second xXx Man Method and I felt inclined to write a song about that day, Wednesday.

But Friday, 22nd of December, was a different kind of good day. It was one of those days where, by the end of it, you think to yourself "it's never gonna be this good again. I might as well check in to an asylum now before the shit hits the fan and I go cuckoo for real".

It started off with a brand new pair of Nike Dunk Lows, a Christmas gift from clients who shall remain anonymous for now, but a great start to the day. After that I took a seat at the Curve and surfed on-line for a bit when a middle aged American woman came up to me with many plastic bags of Christmas shopping.
"Excuse me," she asked, slowly and clearly, "do you speak English?"

I said yes (deep down a little bugged that she may have thought that I didn't) and she explained to me that she's been trying to call her daughter but can't find a working pay phone (a problem I wholeheartedly understand in this country since not a single pay phone in KL works). She asked whether she could use my phone. No problem. I passed it to her, she made her fifteen second call, then passed it back to me, incredibly grateful.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she asked. I declined.

"How about some money?" I declined again. It was only 15 seconds and she looked like she really needed a phone. She thanked me again and went over to the counter to get her a drink.

A beat later a hand appeared on my table to quickly drop a little Starbucks gift box. I turned just in time to see the American smile as she quickly darted away before I had a chance to decline. I opened the box: RM20 Starbucks gift certificate.

Merry Christmas indeed. I could get used to this yuletide cheer.

So, two Christmas presents later and I'm driving over to Tony's. The day before I bought myself a Topman suit which would have felt dirt cheap in England (the whole line was called '60 pound suits') but once converted into ringgit became quite a painful little expenditure, but a required one. Friday night was Anugerah Skrin night, and none of my suits fit my portly figure anymore.

Once pimped out, Tony and I went over to the PWTC. The red carpet was out for celebrities whilst fans waited at the side with digital cameras. My parents arrived and we walked into the hall, unknowns in a world of glitz and glam (or, at the least, the Malaysian equivalent).

Looking for an empty seat, by lucky chance I ended up next to Chermaine Poo, the model/actress/PR consultant/chartered accountant (intimidating? Quite) who Eddy had known from back in the day and apparently wanted to meet up to discuss possible future projects. We chit-chatted for a bit as we waited for the ceremony to start.

The event itself was... odd. For me, at least. I didn't know half the people here but knew they had a certain degree of fame. The actors and actresses that I did know were the ones I used to watch when I was a kid, and it was a bit of a shock to see how much time had passed.

It was also a shock to see how many fine looking Malay women there were in the entertainment industry. But a pleasant shock, nonetheless.

As the entertainers entertained, announcers announced and eulogies were eulogised, that feeling in my gut was there: would Ciplak win Best Alternative Cinema? I was told there was a good chance due to the publicity and press of the movie, but I didn't know. In all honesty I've never really won anything in my life. Whilst most guys have at least one or two medals or trophies from their school years I have none. I tried in advertising and always failed. Why would this be any different? Besides, the more you don't win these trinkets and trophies, the more you question their actual worth. Are they deserved? Are they really that important? All these thoughts were running through my head.

And then Erra Fazira, Umi Aida and (I can't remember her full name but she was pretty hot too) announced the winner for 'Sinema Alternatif'. The winner was 'Ciplak'. And I was stunned.

So stunned was I that when Tony burst into the air screaming and Eddy yelled his lungs out in the distance I was still sat down thinking to myself "what the fuck are y'all motherfuckers doing?" before it sunk in. Ciplak won. I'll be damned.

Everything after that was pretty much a blur: I got up, took the award, a big-ass grin on my face, stuck it out in the air, walked backstage, some PA came and grabbed me for an interview outside, I freaked out when I realized it was in Malay but they said I could answer in English, the PA then pulled me over to another room for press interviews, and finally I found myself in the makeshift cafe next to the hall drinking a teh ais and smoking like mad, a constant stream of congratulatory SMS's coming in, a big-ass award next to me, wondering what the fuck just happened.

Eddy and his boss (who were both partly responsible for this Media Prima event) popped over after that to give me manly hugs and we chatted for a bit before going back to the event just in time to catch the end. My mom and dad gave me more hugs before making their way home and I made my way to the after party of finger foods and orange cordial (yes, I know...). Once there, I met a friend of mine's girlfriend who was now in a reality show by one of the sponsors of the event and a bunch of producers and media big wigs that Eddy kept pimping me out too. At the side I saw Bernard Chauly and went over to thank him for the KSFM series and told him that if it wasn't for those events screening my short films I wouldn't have had the courage to keep on shooting stuff. I was still in a daze, though, and couldn't eat due to the tight, tight suit trousers (36 my ass!).
Finally, as the night came to an end and I'd changed out of my suit at Tony's and made my way home. Days don't come any better than this. The shit's gonna hit the fan before I know it. But Friday, 22nd of December 2006, is one for the books.

The Pimpage Pays In Spades

"...we'll need you to e-mail your CV and send us a showreel as well. We know you're famous, but unfortunately it's required."

Roughly translated quote from a phone conversation this morning with a production company. I'm famous? That's weird. Incredibly weird. Then again, there's been a lot of positive press coverage these past few weeks, so I guess my face is plastered about everywhere. No cover shoots yet, though. Then again, can't imagine what magazine would possibly want me on the cover.

"So, our choices for this months cover are Daphne Iking, Chermaine Poo, Hanah Tan, Marion Counter, Tata Young and some local indie filmmaker."

"Has the indie filmmaker got nice tits?"

"Well, it's a he, not a she. But he is quite tubby. Maybe if we get him to squeeze them together..."

"...er. No."

The press on Ciplak has been amazing, though it hasn't pumped up ticket sales over the past week. Whilst Cicakman hits a record number of RM350,000 on its opening day, Ciplak is struggling. The extended run helped a bit, but for some reason people seemed to have thought that Ciplak was only running for one day. It's still in cinemas, dammit! Diana brought up a good point, though: the movie was never supposed to be in cinemas, so the fact that it is and a few thousand people are watching it is a good thing.

It's also a good thing because it's turned into the best calling card a filmmaker could hope for. Since the movie's release I've been getting calls from two production companies to come up with some stuff on TV and a well known international company that may or may not want me to do a short film for them with a budget that they call modest but I reckon is enough to make me go all Bruckheimer on your ass. Producers want to meet as well as potential actresses ('nuff said).

Where do these people get my number, though? At a meeting, I kept asking the company where they got my number. They simply replied,

"We have ways."

In a way it's kinda freaky. It's one short step from "hi, we'd like you to direct an episode of so-and-so" to "I can see you sleeping."

Fear of stalkers aside, the offers are good. My only worry, though, is whether I can live up to them. I've proven I can do stuff on a budget, but with a buget? And a crew? And a time limit? The expectations are kinda scaring me a bit, as well as the question that I get asked time and time again:

"So what's your next movie going to be about? Any plans?"

My honest response? Haven't a fucking clue. It's the damn expectations, they're kinda freaking me out. And I honestly don't know what to do next. Should I continue with the stories of Jo? 'Ciplak' is actually the second part of a loose trilogy of three scripts I wrote with the same character. Or should I do the horror/action film I've always wanted to do? Or just a flat out action film? Or something more serious? Or what?

All I know is there's a lot of writing to be done. Lots and lots. And I haven't had much time to sit down and write any scripts yet, just ideas. Plenty of ideas. None of them crystalized. Till one of them does, I'll keep fielding these offers and figure something out.

One thing I do know, though: I really, really, really want to make a movie in Malaysia with an 18 rating.