Kind Words Go A Long Way

So I just found out Benjamin McKay passed away.

I didn't really know Mr. McKay. I'd only met him once. He e-mailed me because Criticine had asked him to cover my feature film 'Ciplak' and asked when it was being screened so he could do a write up on it.

There were two people who were invited to the 'Ciplak' screening who's review I was quite nervous about. Benjamin's review was one of them.

I remember meeting him after the launch party for the flick at Laundry. He came over and introduced himself and told me the review would be up soon and that it would be positive.

I remember clicking open the review, nervous as hell, worried about whether or not he would like the movie...

...and instead discovering the most in-depth review of 'Ciplak' I had ever read.

I was amazed, proud, honored and incredibly touched that someone would write about my tiny little low-budget movie the way he did and I was incredibly grateful that he would even consider taking the time to write such an in-depth review in the first place.

I never met Mr. McKay after that, but I'll always be grateful for that review and thankful that he was such a presence in the local independent film scene.

Rest In Peace, sir.

Fighters Fight, Drivers Drive, Writers Write

Three days ago, something wonderful happened. It may not seem like much to many but to me it was a revelation, a welcome return, a missing piece of a jigsaw found.

Three days ago, I started writing again.

There was a story that had been in my head for a few years which I'd had a lot of trouble trying to figure out how to start. I'd attempt it every once in a while, knowing there was a story somewhere there, but always deleting whatever I wrote. And yet, three days ago, at some point at night, I figured out a fresh perspective on how to write the damn thing and started going at it, staying up till four in the morning trying to figure out each subsequent scene but not in a stressed out way but with absolute vigour. I wanted to write till that glorious point where I run out of steam but look at the words with a sense of achievement.

It was only 14 pages, but a happy 14 pages nonetheless.

On the same day I also wrote 5 more pages for another script that I was writing last year and had reached the 35 page mark before stopping indefinitely. This feeling of accomplishment was something I hadn't felt in quite a while and it felt good.

Unfortunately the feelings were short-lived. The next day I discovered that the movie I'd been working on for three years wasn't being picked up by the distributor. I knew there was a good chance of this happening and had planned accordingly, but I still found myself feeling rather down about the whole thing.

When I went back to the computer, I couldn't bring myself to type a single word.

The past few nights since then have mostly been spent awake. Perhaps some part of me hoping for a little surge of inspiration to stab me in the brain and get the juices pumping, perhaps it was just from staying up three days ago. Last night was the ultimate in time-wasting-in-the-wee-hours: I watched every episode of the first two seasons of 'How I Met Your Mother'.

In fast forward.

(Believe me, I really wish the above was a joke. It's not.)

The point is, I haven't written anything since that day. True, it's only been a few days, but here's the thing:-

I haven't written like that for almost half a year.

The last time I wrote something that was truly mine a hundred percent was 'Lucky Shot', the short film to test out the Canon 5D Mark II (the 15 Malaysia short, 'Healthy Paranoia', was based on a story by Shirin Jauhari. I was actually at a bind as to what to write until she came up with the idea).

Now, I don't want to live in the past and talk about 'the good old days' but there was a time when I wrote scripts non-stop from the age of 16 all the way till about 26. Ten years of non-stop writing. When it started it was a convergence of all the right elements - my father had bought our first PC for the household (Wow! It's got a gigabyte of hard drive! Oh my God!), I had just discovered the scripts of Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith and the household video camera was at my disposal. I just wrote non-stop, any little idea, even no idea. I'd start up the computer, set a scene in a random location like a cafe and have two people sat there, talking, just to see what they'd say when my fingers took over.

A lot of these scripts are terrible. Absolutely horrid. But it was very good practice because, as any writer will tell you, writers write. You keep writing, never stop writing, always keep the grey matter going, going, going.

And it kept going. I remember when I was in a cafe waiting for a friend and thinking of all the little quirks of pirated VCD's. A story started forming in my head and I started writing down what became a ten page short film in a cheap school exercise book with a ballpoint pen. A few years later this short film was expanded into a little feature length indie flick called 'Ciplak'.

I've often wondered why, after I finally made a feature length film, my frequency of writing dwindled. Slowly at first, then picking up pace till finally, I hardly wrote at all except for sporadic little moments.

When I say write, however, I'm not talking about when I'm hired to write. I'm talking about when I want to write, and there's a big difference. Hired to write is not as difficult because, ultimately, it's not your baby. It's someone else's baby. You're just, at the most, a mid-wife. When I was writing for television, such as Ghost Season 2 or Dark City, I literally wrote those screenplays overnight, sometimes in one sitting. I'd sit for a few hours in front of the computer, smoking cigarettes, staring at the blank screen and thinking subconsciously about the story, then churn it out.

But writing for the sake of writing, simply writing a script because there's a story to tell and characters to develop and something to show and hopefully entertain, that hasn't happened in a long time.

One of the reasons I think this happened is because of a peculiar habit of mine which I'm hoping to this year shake off. I have a tendency, when creating something new, to put my absolute all into it till it occupies my ever waking hour of brain juiciness. But the second I've accomplished the basics of it all, I lose interest.

For example, a few years ago I wanted to build my own guitar. I researched, looked around for parts, learnt to wire and solder the components, did everything I could... till the guitar worked. Then I stopped. The thing is, it's not really finished. The sound could be tweaked more, the playability of the guitar can be improved considerably, only the front half of the guitar is sanded nicely whilst the back looks like Batman's butt with battle scars but the moment I got it to work, I stopped working on it with absolute gusto.

(I like this word, 'gusto'. I must use it more often.)

Same could be said about my one-time stint of stand-up last year. I was worried stiff about it, researched about it, any time my brain wasn't in use I'd use it to try and come up with different routines but the second I did it, I never felt the need to continue doing it. In my brain it was done, accomplished, finished. Let's find something new.

Perhaps the same has happened with my writing and filmmaking. Though I know it is a good trait to constantly want to learn new things, expand the mine and skill-sets and discover strange, new, interesting forms of input (this is why I relate to the 'Short Circuit' movies) but at the same time, I can't be spending the rest of my life learning everything without sticking to something.

I have stuck to something - filmmaking and music. And I don't want to treat them like I did my guitar.

Though the above may account for some of the reason why writing these days is more difficult for me there is another thing. One that bugs me even more.

After 'Ciplak', filmmaking became something feasible as a career. So I hit the film and television industry with the same gusto (hehe, 'gusto') as I did when I was trying to make my first independent feature film. I wrote constantly - screenplays for possible movies, telemovies, TV shows, all of it. I wrote synopsis' and outlines and pitched ideas all around town and discovered the horrible truth about the industry itself which culminated with the day when a producer for a big studio told me something I will never forget,

"If you're script is original or good, we won't buy it."

I've thought long and hard about those words and the many pitches and ideas I've sent out and have a strong feeling that it's this history of rejection that made the news of my film not being picked up a painful one to hear, even though I was expecting it and planned for the worse. That feeling of rejection.

I was incredibly fortunate to have been in a situation where I made my first film with no one expecting a thing and no one to impress to get funding and was even more fortunate that I made it at around the right place and the right time in the way of things that it got released, won an award, kick-started my 'career'.

(I have as much difficulty in saying that what I do is a 'career' in the same way that I have difficulty in referring to myself as an 'artist'. It just feels wrong.)

I have tried these past few years to keep a stiff upper lip about it all. There was a time when I'd get a rejection for a pitch or an idea and laugh and say "fuck it, let's keep writing," but I guess after hearing rejection after rejection it gets a bit harder to keep that thick skin up. After a while a tiny part of you starts believing that maybe you're not that good.

Then there's the fact that now that I've seen what the industry 'wants', what the industry will 'allow', what the do's and don't's are, these things start affecting the writing. Whereas once I would write without a thought of all this, nowadays I find myself not just self-censoring myself, but laying un-required boundaries because at the back of my head I'm thinking, "just in case I get a possible opening for financing, I should make sure that there's a chance that this script can go through the censorship board/get wajib tayang status/has a role for Mawi".

These thoughts are somehow ingrained in me from the years of pitching to people who's automatic response to everything I write is "it's a bit too clever, lah".

A lot of times I try to hold back from talking about stuff like this because there is that feeling that I'm not allowed to feel this way. I am, in the grand scheme of things, one lucky motherfucker, and it's such a cliche for a lucky motherfucker such as myself to moan my good fortune - "Oh, no, I made a movie and it allowed me to become a filmmaker and now I don't know what to write about! Woe is me, it's so depressing! Bring on the cocaine and other abusive substances so that I may be a walking cliche! Quick, hide the rotting pain inside by acting like a complete douchebag!" Etcetera, etcetera...

In truth, I am forever grateful to God, the universe, karma, whatever it is that makes this world go 'round, for giving me this opportunity. I truly am. For fuck's sake, in the past six months I've worked an average of a week or two each month to earn my wages, that's good living. Hell, any job where you can feasibly do your work in your boxers is a good job.

(And before anyone asks, it's the stuff done in front of the computer like writing or editing. I don't turn up on set in my undies).

But I guess, these past few months, I've also felt a bit... unfulfilled. The creative juices are at their best when I'm shooting something I want to shoot, based on a script that I wanted to write. Not because I had to, not because I'm hoping to sell it, I just wanted to.

And here's the rub - I know it's there. Somewhere, in the back of my head, stories that I want to write. It was a lot smaller before, but it's gotten a bit bigger, just a bit, and soon it's gonna pop out. I know it's gonna pop out. I can feel it trying to climb out of the mass of bullshit, the many walls built up in that brain of mine from years of "it's too clever", "too much dialogue" and "I don't think local audiences will get it". It's desperately trying to claw it's way out of all that crap back there.

One thing I've always felt was true is that there's a big difference in 'knowing' and 'believing'. You can know that you have what it takes, but you may not believe it. And it's only when you believe it that you truly shine.

I know it's there. I just need to get the believing part right. Perhaps that's why I wrote this post - to let out all the rant-y stuff inside whilst simultaneously trying to convince myself.

Or perhaps I wrote this post because I needed to write. Whether good or bad, published or un-published, necesarry or frivolous, meaningful or pointless, writer's must write.

I wonder what I'm going to write next?








Whatever it is, I sure hope I'll write it with gusto.

Hehe.

Pimpin' In Pusan

So it's been a while since I've blogged. A helluva while. And though there are many recent events and thoughts in my head that I wish to blog I can't let the past few months go unnoticed, now can I? That'd be like buying a 5 disc DVD series with one disc in the middle missing and wondering halfway why Jack Bauer went from fighting his old partner to suddenly stopping the Candyman from killing the female president.

Throughout the middle of the year you could say I was going through a... transitional phase. A lot of things hadn't worked out and I realized more and more that I'd been slowly transforming into the Fat Angry Man which is not the type of future I had envisioned for myself. For a good three months I didn't have any jobs coming in either, so I spent most of that time trying to figure out where it all went wrong, trying to figure out how to make things better, how to make myself better and how to crack an egg without getting yolk all over the rim of the frying pan.

So slowly I exercised and controlled my diet so I could lose weight and figured out what was the source of so much of my anger and frustration and after a while I went from being an Angry Fat Man to just a Man. I got by with a lil' help from my friends and picked myself up, bit by bit, and it felt good to be just a Man again.

Then I took a trip to Pusan with the 15Malaysia peeps and went from Man to Pimp.

The moment I got to the airport, before we'd even boarded, I already felt different. Better. Things were a little more fun. The whole time beforehand I'd been worried about whether or not I'd have any fun on the trip for some reason. There was the fear of being trapped in an unknown country feeling emo. Thankfully, that wasn't the case.

Straight away we started to naturally form our little cliques - the people that we'd most probably hang out with throughout the entire trip. It wasn't really segregation, as we all hung out with each other at some point, but for most of the trip I had a specific set of peeps:-

Jordan

One half of the Suleiman brothers (Dique couldn't make it because of health reasons), those responsible for the excellent 'Rojak' short film for 15Malaysia which I also acted in.

I'd known Jordan since we were 16 back in Concord College in England. I played in my first proper band with the dude and I've seen his company 'Voxel' grow as the years go by. The Pusan trip was the first time in a long time that I'd hung out with the dude for a long period of time. Second we met at the airport we just went back into our usual schtick.

Benji & Bahir

I'd never met these two up until the whole 15Malaysia thing got going. For some reason we always got paired for interviews n' stuff. These guys were responsible for the hillarious 'Meter' short film featuring politician KJ.

The weirdest thing is how we'd only really met each other during this whole 15Malaysia thing considering we both came out with our debut low budget features at the same time. Both 'Ciplak' and their feature debut 'Skali' came out at around the same time and there was even an article where both our films were featured side-by-side in KLue.

Namron

I'd met Namron before as an actor under the direction of Johan John for both 'Andai' and 'Cahaya'. Namron directed one of the more serious shorts of the 15Malaysia series, 'Lollipop', which dealt with paedophilia.

We both ended up being room-mates on the trip too.

Rizal

Rizal was the only non-director in our little gang. A writer from the Star and an excellent bassist, I first met him when he interviewed me for 'Ciplak' and we've been friends since, though I hadn't seen him for a long time up until this trip. Dude's hella cool and wrote a great article about the trip too which can be found here.

Together with the rest of the directors along for the ride as well as them good folk over at Ruumz, the trip was looking to be hella fun.

But nothing prepared me for the red carpet:

Words cannot describe how that felt. Seriously. The day we arrived we only had a few hours before we had to leave to the red carpet and when we arrived we thought we walked down the wrong entrance and missed the whole thing. But we didn't. That was just the red carpet for the entrance. The actual red carpet was inside and a lot longer than we thought it would be.

When we walked in I was somewhere in the middle of the line but somehow when we got to the stage area for press photos before walking onto the red carpet I ended up at the front of the pack. I remember thinking, "these people don't know who the hell we are. I'm just gonna walk humbly down this thing and enjoy the experience."

The second we walked forward onto the red carpet packs of Korean female fans were screaming their asses off.

I didn't believe it at first, thinking they must be screaming for the person before us or the person after us, but out of curiosity I raised one hand to wave... and the screams got louder. I raised my other hand to wave... and they got even louder. Finally, I raised both to see if I could coax an even bigger reaction and the crowd continued screaming and applauding even louder.

And I can honestly say I have never felt so Pimp in my entire life.

We later realized that whenever a female actress walked down the red carpet there was hardly any screaming. We then realized that the majority of the audience were young Korean girls. Perhaps they were just applauding our sweet tanned asses, God only knows, but it was an insane experience. For me, especially, it was insane because after winning the Anugerah Skrin for 'Ciplak' I never thought I'd experience a moment like that again, but walking down that red carpet topped that experience by a huge margin.

After the red carpet experience (which included Josh Hartnett walking down the red carpet and a very cute Korean girl pop group singing the theme song from 'Pearl Harbor') we went for Korean BBQ and the opening night party before calling it a night. It would later turn out that we'd be going to parties EVERY night.

The next day we had the screening of 15Malaysia at the fest as well as the 15Malaysia party.

The screening went well and the 15Malaysia party turned out to be both one of the best parties for the whole trip as well as the most emotional for a lot people as everyone paid tribute to the late, great Yasmin Ahmad by releasing hundreds of balloons of her favorite color (white) into the air. Though I'd never gotten the chance to meet her in person, I'd always admired her as a filmmaker and for a lot of the people there who had met her in person and known her, the whole scene was very touching and emotional for them.

Pusan itself is a cool place, even though there were severe communication breakdowns. Regardless, one of the cool things about the Pusan International Film Festival is the fact that the screenings are spread throughout all the cinemas in Pusan in various malls so, in effect, the entire town is a film festival.

And the food... oh, God, the food! A Korean BBQ meal that would set you back about twenty or thirty bucks a head only costs about eight bucks a head there.

One thing I especially liked was that new bonds were made between us filmmakers. It's interesting how the little cliques formed naturally. Myself and the fellow Pusan pimps I was hanging out with were pretty much on the same wavelength and conversations flowed like water, as did moments of insane silliness such as the video below:

All I was trying to do was use the moving walk-way handles as a crude dolly system to get a tracking shot of the gang as they walked so that I could cut together a 'Reservoir Dogs' style shot in the airport. Then Benji started dancing. I have no idea why. He just started dancing. So I asked him to do it again. And again and again. And he did every time. And right after that my mind started racing trying to figure out how to cut that footage together into a surreal video. Hillariously, he is being recognized more in public for the 'Wonderman' video than for his work as a director.

I don't know about the other filmmakers, but for our little clique it felt like we were rockstars, this being our first international film festival and all. So much so that leaving was a slightly sad affair:

The effects of the trip are still being felt to this day. Before the trip I had been very conflicted about this whole filmmaking thing, every day getting more and more jaded with every meeting with a film company or TV station or producer, making me wonder whether there was any point in doing the films and telling the stories that I wanted to tell since producers wanted the same derivative crap over and over again (and that's not an opinion. I was actually told that by a producer without a hint of shame in his voice).

Seeing how an audience overseas reacted to our films was one thing. To meet people from all over the world who knew and were interested in Malaysian filmmaking was nuts. At least for me, it helped me realize that there's no point pandering - there's an audience somewhere out there for anything you have in your mind to film.

On top of that, myself and the other filmmakers in our little clique have now been working together ever since that trip and the work flow's been steady and good. Though sometimes it feels a bit hectic and insane and sometimes I'd like to shoot the end clients in the head I'm always reminded of how insanely dull and boring it was during that three months prior to Pusan when I didn't have a single job at all. That whole trip wasn't just a holiday for me - it was a book mark in my life leading on to a whole new chapter and I'll never forget it.

Thank you, Pete, for this opportunity, and thank you Albert for all the insane multi-tasking leg work you had to undertake for all of us. Thank you P1 for the funding and thank you Ruumz for the sponsorship for the trip.

Most of all, thank you Pusan. You were brilliant.

Pimpin' Off To Pusan

So for those not in the know, the last thing I did before becoming a hermit for a couple of months was a short film called 'Healthy Paranoia' for 15 Malaysia, a short film project where 15 local filmmakers created 15 short films about what we thought of our lovely country:-

And there's also a making of here:-

The flick was shot with the actual Minister of Health in the Ministry of Health itself and the dude was a pretty cool guy too. Amongst the other filmmakers involved were the late Yasmin Ahmad, Col. Kurtz himself - Johan John, the Suleimans, Benji & Bahir and a whole bunch of pimp daddies rollin' in the caddies.

When I took the job, I just thought it'd be fun to do a short film on a budget. Gig's a gig, right? What I didn't expect was to find myself with a sponsored trip together with the other pimp daddies to the Pusan International Film Festival in Korea.

Sweet.

Thing is, I thought since I have my 5D and haven't been doing enough with the damn thing, I figured instead of blogging about the experience I might as well video blog it. Of course, this depends on whether or not I find the time to edit and upload whilst I'm there (or whether I'm of sound health and mind during the trip to do so).

Regardless, here's part one:-

Wednesday is flight day. Let's see what bad craziness we get up to...

Experience This

I sincerely believe there are two types of writers, especially when it comes to screenplays.

The first type channels specific life experiences of their own into their writing - the names, faces, places and outcomes may be different to what happened, but the similarities to those real life experiences are there. Perhaps it's too exorcise whatever demons the writer may have lurking inside them, perhaps it's just because they're not too imaginative.

The second type writes purely from their imagination, either what they wish would happen or wish wouldn't happen in the world - the fantastical, the imaginary, the down-right weird. These are the ones whose ideas often start off with "wouldn't it be cool if..." or "imagine this..."

The best writers have both traits.

I reckon I've always belonged to the former - the type that writes about what he's experienced - but I've found myself turning more and more towards the latter.

The recent ideas I've been coming up with have been filled with large explosions, fight sequences, espionage, poker and Satan. And I'm quite sure I know why.

Because up until recently I've been blocking out my experiences for the past few years.

My original reasoning before this was that I needed to write something that made some dough or write something in Malay which makes me very nervous as the main thing I love writing is dialogue, but the fact of the matter is they're all just excuses.

It's strange - I've actually been complaining to myself that there aren't any personal experiences to write about when in actuality there have been plenty. I've just either not been able to see it from the correct point of view or simply didn't want to touch those experiences again with a ten foot pole.

It feels good to be able to look at things the way I used to again. It's incredibly refreshing, for one. The instability in some of my more human traits are still there, but they're no longer something I want to hide or repress. To accept life as is, the experiences life gives you, is a good feeling indeed, and I think I know what things to write about now.

Like my bowel movements.

No Bikes, No Bitches, No Trannies, No Fun

Anybody read the Sunday Times yesterday? I myself hardly ever read newspapers but picked one up because there was an article on the 15Malaysia project. That's when I saw the front page - 'Mat Rempit and Drag Queens OUT'. Apparently, rempits are now banned from film and television because "it is a fact that each time a movie about Mat Rempit is shown in the cinemas, police have to be on high alert".

This has happened because the Inspector General of the Police sent a letter to the Home Ministry stating this fact. I assume because outright banning something is easier than actually educating the public on why illegally racing on the road whilst trying to perform outlandish stunts on a kapcai.

And it's not just rempits. Illegal car racing portrayed on screen will also take a hit. Drag queens are out, as are scenes of men wearing women's clothing, even if it's in a 'Some Like It Hot' type of comedic scenario. No more lose women to be portrayed on screen. No gays or effeminate men in general.

I think it would be safe to say that chase scenes in general will probably be banned at some point, together with fight scenes of a violent nature, women in short sleeve tight t-shirts, the flashing of the ankles and dogs.
I don't have to tell you how inexplicably stupid this news is to me. Local films were in a bad enough state as it is without adding more restrictions. What, pray tell, is the rating system for, then? And are these laws going to be applied on international films as well, or do they get a pass since they're not Malaysian henceforth no one in this country will try and emulate them?

The thing is, I saw this coming. I saw it coming when the first 'Remp-It' movie hit the cinemas. The second I saw the trailer, with it's illegal racing and stunts and scantily clad women I thought to myself, "I can't believe this got past the censor board! I just hope everyone doesn't jump the bandwagon and keep one-upping themselves trying to see what they can get away with or the government's gonna ban it all."
Then this movie comes out:

"Bohsia: Jangan Pilih Jalan Hitam". Great. That's helpful. Sure enough, this movie was one of the ones talked about as apparently, after this movie came out, the amount of rempit activity doubled.

I don't believe in censorship. I believe in ratings to give the public due warning of the content of a movie and to stop younglings from checking out porn at the wrong age. But censorship, especially at this magnitude, is downright obscene.

If you ever wonder why local movies are so dissapointing, look at it this way - creativity is hampered because of censorship laws such as this, combined with producers' greed in wanting to produce something that has all the elements that will sell yet at the same time too afraid to try something new and creative.

And it's this same greed that's landed us in this shit in the first place. We know the government will ban something if there's enough figures to show that it can be related to something that will harm the rakyat, we can't help that. This is the country we live in. And as much as it'd be nice to change that, adding the straw that breaks the camel's back is only going to hamper it.

Dear God, when will there be some kind of news that will allow me to write something nice about the local film industry for once?

Acting, Or Something Like It

Howdy, campers. Once again, I've been MIA for work reasons - in particular, working on 'Cahaya', the upcoming feature film written and directed by Johan John where I was a producer, a role I've never played before. But the post on my role as producer will have to wait as I'm not in the mood to write about that yet. No, what's on my mind are the other roles I've been playing over the past six months... as an 'actor'.
My first steps towards being a filmmaker were in acting. Drama was one of my GCSE's and around the same time I started writing scripts, both for the drama class as well as for my English language class where the teacher allowed me to hand in scripts for my coursework as opposed to the usual assignments.
In university, same thing - started acting first in the drama society as well as teaching improvisation before writing and directing two of my own plays.

And then, of course, there was 'Ciplak'.

Since then I didn't really get any acting roles. I remember when I wanted to play the 'supercop' in the terrorist episode of 'Ampang Medikal' that I was directing only to have the executive producer tell me I wasn't 'classically handsome' enough to play the role.

Directing the second series really took its toll on me, both physically and creatively, and so I thought for the beginning part of 2009 I'd chill for a bit from the directing side until I figured out something to write that I'd really want to direct, and in the mean time do more writing and acting. On the writing side, there were seven episodes of season 2 of Ghost which I also directed an episode for (which was episode four). On the acting side, things have been a bit more... varied.

Around January I got a call from a friend of Reverend Ed's who was directing season two of 'Hartamas', a series on NTV7. One of the actors pulled out and they needed someone within the next couple of hours to play one of the roles - 'a real rocker dude' was the brief I was given. I didn't have anything on and rushed over where they duly dressed me up like this:

The episode aired recently and I caught it on youtube which you can find by clicking here. It's a slapstick sitcom with some soap opera drama in there as well. What do I think about it?

No comment.

What I will say is this - watching the episode made me think about the acting roles I've been playing this year and I'm not sure what to make of it, though I can say the feelings aren't positive.

After this I was offered a role on a friend's telemovie, 'Puaka Topeng Putih' (you can click the title to see the trailer though I'm nowhere in it) where I played an emo guy who's brother is accidentally pushed off a cliff by a bunch of girls and one year later I get my revenge by wearing a white mask, wielding a machete and walking very slowly.

Sound familiar?

To save money they got one of their interns to double as me for all the masked scenes and I just turned up on the days my character had lines. Wasn't much in the script for me to play with as an actor besides cry at a steering wheel after hearing that the girls, all at least a good foot shorter than me, pushed my brother off a cliff. Their reason? He ratted on them to the teacher.

After that was a role on season two of Ghost in one of the episodes which hasn't aired yet so I will tell you nothing for fear of the producers sending a SWAT team into my house to silence me before hacking into my main frame and deleting all reference to the role in question.

...shit, sorry. Been watching too much 24, got a bit carried away there.

The next role was a cameo in Johan John's movie 'Cahaya' where I played an asshole husband (pic on the right). I was hoping I'd get to cameo as a more interesting character but then again, I had a shit load of work to deal with as a producer so I doubt I'd have had time to put any work into a proper role.

Last but not least, there's the most recent role I've played which was in Jordan and Dique's short film. I got the call about it whilst I was still on the 'Cahaya' set, then when it was closer to the shooting date I found out what type of character I was playing:

An old religious man who catches two kids making out in a car and tries to stop them until an army of riot control police pop up from behind which is why I'm in the pic above on top of a car. This was probably the most fun to do, though a very weird choice of casting I must say. Never thought I'd be hired to play that.

Watching the 'Hartamas' episode got me thinking about all these roles - a stoned eighties rock drummer, an emo serial killer, a CENSORED, a jackass husband and an old religious man - tiny little roles peppered in with not much for me to really bite my teeth into and 'act' in. Sometimes it's the role, sometimes it's the script and sometimes it's just the way it is.

To be fair, all of the roles except for the short film one were for TV, which may explain why the short film was the most fun, but it'd be nice to do something where I can say "ok... this is gonna need more than just pulling a stereotype/archetype from out of my ass". I'd like to be able to do some theatre but doubt I'd have the time for rehearsals.

I'm not sure what to think of all this except that I'd really like the opportunity or chance to really act in something again. I know one of the simplest solutions would be to write something I could act in which I also direct, but here's the thing - the character I played in 'Ciplak' was one that was close enough to me for me to be able to pull him out at the drop of a hat. I wrote him that way because I knew I'd be playing him and I didn't want to be too swamped as a director. One thought is to write something for me to act in but get someone else to direct but I'm not sure what at the moment.

I miss acting. I miss getting into a character that's foreign to me, trying to figure out how exactly I should play it. I miss going through my lines, rehearsing, reacting to another actor and getting the ball really rolling in a scene. I miss that, and I hope I'll get to do it again soon.

And hopefully before I reprise my role as 'Gajah'.

Welcome to the Industry

I went for a film related meeting the other day and was introduced to someone in The Industry. She spoke at great length about how she could get the hook-up on any sponsor we needed for a film, full of confidence to the point of pomposity and not a trace of sincerity in her voice. After 3 minutes of listening to this woman speak I quietly SMS-ed my colleague at the table:

"Why am i getting the impression this woman talks a lot of cock?"

That's what it sounded like - cock. Tons of it. My ears were in an auditory sausage fest being slapped about by pre-cum glistening floppy phaluses. She rambled on and on with such superiority, every sentence somehow ending with a less than obvious hint of how incredible she was at her job. Not a trace of humility nor honesty. In the words of a Star Wars character about to step into the unknown, I had a bad feeling about this.

Welcome to The Industry.

A while back I went to a private event for some people in The Industry where I met one of the Big Wigs. I asked him how business was. He told me that after the failure of their slightly more 'intelligent' releases (and by 'intelligent', I mean by his standards) and bigger budget productions he was told by Big Wigs bigger than him that he is not to accept any pitches that were interesting, intelligent, original or different. They were to stick with slapstick comedies because that's what (they believe) the public wants and that's what (they believe) will help them recuperate their losses. Apparently going back to these 'intelligent' releases and figuring out what was wrong with them in order to make them work is not an option.

When he spoke of indie films, he already had in his mind a perceived notion of what an indie film looked like (beautifully composed shots of silence between two underacting individuals) and what kind of plot an indie film has (any plot that the public wouldn't understand that may or may not deal with something political, racial or sexual). He spoke about how they were the ones that were raking in the box office but regardless, he wouldn't invest in one. After that another Big Wig friend complained about the lack of women at the event and asked him to call some of those young and desperate female extras to come over to 'spice things up'.

Welcome to The Industry.

Two years ago I went to a film premiere in the hope of broadening my contact base in The Industry. The producer said a few words before the film rolled and compared it to a known American director in the genre they claimed they were filming in. After the first reel I was seething. By the second reel I was desperately trying not to fall asleep considering the director's wife was sat next to me but to no avail - it was the first time I ever fell asleep in a cinema. The horror I was watching on screen was so abysmal and terrifyingly crap that my brain refused to take in any more of it.

When I went out for a cigarette after the screening with an actor friend of mine from The Industry, we were joined by another from The Industry that my actor friend knew. I listened to them talk about the movie, wondering what they would say about it. Their eyes said what I was feeling all along - "this movie is beyond shit and showing it to the public should be punishable by death".

Instead, they talked about how local audiences, in particular 'regular folk', would like it. And the saddest part was they weren't wrong - the movie made decent bank in the box office.

Welcome to The Industry.

This is The Industry where I've been making my living for the past year. I have seen wave after wave of terrible actresses who get bigger and bigger roles based solely on their perceived beauty. I have seen countless producers who claim to know their shit when in reality they couldn't connect two Lego bricks together without an instruction booklet, a video tutorial and someone next to them telling them exactly how to do it in single syllable words. I have shot page after page of scripts so disturbingly terrible one wonders what kind of retarded monkey boy signed off the check to pay these hacks. I have pitched my ass off and later discover that apparently I'm too young to be a director. I have had my scripts either rejected for being too intelligent or rewritten to the point that I wonder if it's even ethical to have my name on the cover and where the fuck is the local screenwriters guild to protect me during instances like this in the first place. I have had my award winning feature film referred to as a 'short film' more times than I'd care to remember because apparently if it's not shot on film it's not a feature regardless of how long it is. I have seen fights escalate on set to the point of blood spilled and I have worked with some of the most irresponsible jackasses in the world.
I have seen all this and plenty more and I welcome it with open arms.

I can't imagine doing anything else. I'm making flicks and shooting shows and writing scripts and playing psychos on screen. Do I seriously want to go back to nine-to-five, shirt-and-tie, memos, faxes and pointless abbreviations?

The crap gets to me, it really does, but fuck it. I welcome it, arms wide as a whores thighs at port during shore leave.

And do you know why?

Because I'm keeping all these experiences and I'm remembering every single one. And one day I'm gonna make a film about all this so don't get on my ass if the mirror shines a little too bright because, like they say, "siapa makan cili dialah rasa pedas" ("whoever eats the chilli tastes the spice").

Keep on acting like jackasses, bitches. You'll get yours one day, and I'll get mine.

Preaching the Word

So last Sunday I found myself waking up at seven in the morning. For the past two weeks I'd been used to sleeping at five or six in the morning and waking up at around three or four, but Sunday was different. I had to be awake, alert, sharp and full of pep.

Because last Sunday I had to be on student time.

A few weeks before hand I got a call from a UiTM student, asking me if I was willing to give a talk together with two others of the film world for a workshop on making short films. It'd been about a year or two since I last spoke to UiTM students and I'd been planning a workshop myself so I figured it'd be a good testing ground.

So there I was, driving out to the Puncak Perdana campus of UiTM in Shah Alam on a Sunday morning, trying to stay awake with the aid of two cans of coffee, a shitload of cigarettes and Mos Def playing on the CD player.

The second I got there I met up with someone who I'd written to via e-mail, I think maybe even spoken over the phone, but had never actually met in person till now. The one and only Hassan Muthalib:

This is a man who's been involved in the Malaysian film industry for many, many years and a joy to talk to. The man's a walking encyclopaedia of film theory.

Also present was uber-editor and filmmaker Akashdeep Singh:

(Pardon the bad photoshopping. Trying to save pic space on this blog).

Whilst Hassan talked about film theory and Akash talked about how to get your ideas on screen (and he also showcased a cool little way to jot down ideas) I spoke mainly about the joys of DIY and being independent, showing them videos of different DIY techniques, how cameras that most in the film industry here would consider not good enough for film being used in not just indie productions but Hollywood productions too (such as Crank 2, shot with the Canon XHA1 and Canon F100). I showed them how I made my DIY depth-of-field adapter, how others have made their own steadicams and how regardless of what techniques and equipment you use, none of it is worth nothing without a good, solid story, honest and straight from the heart.

I think they dug it. I hope so, at least. Either that or I spoke English too damn fast.

After that there was the workshop:

Here the students had an hour to brainstorm a short film idea and present it to us. The ideas were great but there was one thing that bugged me: they were told they had to present their ideas in storyboard form.

This didn't make sense, as far as I was concerned. It didn't make sense to Hassan either (Akash had to leave before this part, unfortunately). To me, the most important thing of this 'pitching' session was to be able to convey their story in a way that we could understand, but they got so caught up in the storyboards they'd get too confused or pre-occupied with them. Story is story, plain and simple.

The whole thing was hella fun and I had a great time with the students. Apart from the whole pitching thing, the other thing that bugged me about the session was that these kids weren't exposed to as much as I felt they should be exposed to - other directors, other ways of shooting, cool ideas, all the many possibilities available. I felt it was important that they knew there was more than one way to skin a cat.

It made me realize how blessed I was that I was exposed to all these things that made me the filmmaker I am today. I got a chance to learn so much that has helped me get to where I am and the whole experience at the college energized me even more to get my damn workshop going, because how cool would that be? Tons of young punks, going out there and making more new and interesting movies in crazy ways that the old guard would never even dream of. Impressive, interesting, personal stories that demand your attention, grip you by the cojones and drag you across your seat like a cinematic teabagging.

Thanks, UiTM, and I hope I'll be seeing y'all real soon (especially if any of you guys take up the internship I pimped out).

Acting: The Art of Waiting

It was almost six in the morning and the wig fell off from the back of my bandana. The hair and make-up being (I say being due to the persons gender being, shall we say, nondescript) was tired and sleepy but now the being had to stir and fix the huge head of fake hair scalped from some strange being from days gone past. The streets of KL were orange and the crew were fixing a car rig to the last director's Mercedes. Inside, one of the actresses was fast asleep, waiting her cue, whilst another actor had gone past the point of no return and was professing his love for NKOTB.

"So," I thought, "this is what it's like to be an actor in Malaysia."

Four days ago I got a call. Kitty was resting on the sofa and I hadn't much to do.

"Hello, is this Khai?" said the voice on the other line. I replied with a yes and asked who it was. It turned out to be a director friend of my vocalist who was shooting the second season of a TV series and at the eleventh hour one of the cast members pulled out.

"We need someone to play a real rocker dude," was his description of the role.

I hadn't acted in a while. During the last TV series I was shooting there was a part I wanted to play, that of a cop in a hospital. I told the executive producer that I wanted the role as a cameo for the episodes I was directing.

His reply was, and I quote, "but the character needs to be classically good looking."

"Oh! So you're saying I'm ugly?!"

"No, lah... but this character is going to be flirting with Alia and it has to be believable."

Ok. So not only am I a hideous fucking Chud, I also have no chance with an actress like her. Thanks for the compliment, buddy.

My hopes of acting have pretty much been shot down for roughly the same reasons, and this was an opportunity to act again, which I hadn't done in a long time. Hence, I agreed.

I'd heard talks of the show, and from the information I had gathered I knew it was pretty youth oriented so thought that the role would probably involve me being some emo-rock dude or something - hair to one side covering half the face, dressed in black, etc.

I then arrived on set, got into make-up, and ended up looking like this:

Okay...

My character's name was 'Gajah', and was the equivalent of Silent Bob to the other actor's Jay, silent and in a world of his own, swatting flies with his electric fly swatter. They rolled for a take, I swung up in the air on my cue to swat the fly...

...and broke the fly swatter in half, the top part flying towards the cameraman and boom guy, barely missing them together with the 42" plasma TV.

And so it went. I was to appear in two episodes, and in the second episode I had quite a bit of dialogue, including a moment where I had to sniff one of the other actors for no apparent reason. I had worked with some of the cast members in the last TV series I shot so it was a bit of a reunion. Food was your typical crew food on a local movie set, and I hogged the chicken as usual.

And what did I discover, being on the other side of the lens? Two things:

The first thing I was amused about was how a lot of the more seasoned actors seem to have two modes - the 'daily bread' mode and the 'true actor' mode. I had seen some of these actors in independent productions before, and knew how they could act, be subtle, be good. This was their 'true actor' mode.

That mode was not to be seen on this set.

Instead, you get the 'daily bread' mode - a whole different style of acting, a method that you'd call 'TV acting'. So often people berate the acting style on TV for its over-the-top-ness but here's the truth - if people didn't want them to act that way on these shows, they wouldn't be acting that way, because God knows they can act a whole lot better.

Case in point of this was when we were shooting at Central Market. My character and his 'Jay' are out on the streets, busking. A blind man playing a flute is earning more dough, so my 'Jay' grabs his money. The blind man turns out to be not so blind, gets up and yells blue murder. Everything was, as you'd call it, done in the 'TV acting' stylee.

Whilst we were shooting this scene there were a whole load of on-lookers. One of them was an elderly woman with some groceries who had no idea were shooting and thought that someone really was stealing money from a blind man. She was a regular old woman, probably from a working class background (for want of a better term) and when she realized what it was she stuck around to watch...

...and laughed at the scene every time. She was loving it. It pegged me on to just how different tastes are between different social groups. Though the script seemed so incredibly low-brow to me, that's me. The makcik watching the scene would love every second of the show.

(There can be further argument about this - how non-exposure to things a bit more 'high-brow' or 'intelligent' is unavailable hence its appreciation cannot be nurtured, etcetera etcetera, but let's not get into that know.)

The second thing was not so amusing. In fact, it was downright tiring, and it's given me a new found sympathy for actors.

I discovered the waiting.

The waiting is not fun. Between scenes, between set-ups, you just wait. You could go through your lines, but it's not too hard to remember. My main fluffs were mainly due to Malay not being my first language. Though I can speak it, reading from a script proved to be a bit tricky because a lot of times the words wouldn't roll off of my tongue properly. Just certain words, but if I got stuck on the word, it would fuck me up. Most of the time I'd get the script 5 minutes before I shot the scene.

It's those moments when you're waiting that just outright kills you. It makes you want to be a diva and demand crap because it feels like eternity. You read a book, you take some photos, you go for a walk, but you're still waiting, and sooner or later you have nothing else to do except wait.

The waiting is a killer. Hollywood has trailers. Lucky bastards. We have stools and a makeshift ashtray made from a cut open plastic bottle filled with a bit of water.

So the question remains: would I do more acting? Six hours from now I'll be back behind the lens, shooting the current TV series I'm doing. I love directing, regardless of all my complaints, and I have complaints about acting too, but it's what I started out doing before going behind the lens and I wouldn't mind doing it again.

Only this time I shall bring a portable DVD player.

And maybe some porn.

Credits and Whores

 So a month or so back I was editing an episode of a tv series I directed where, and lets be honest here, the script was so bad it makes Batman and Robin look like Glengarry Glen Ross. Regardless, there were moments I was proud of, little diamonds embedded in the huge pile of manure that was the episode, and God knows I worked my ass off on it, shooting till the wee hours of the morning dazed and confused trying to keep it all together.

Even editing was an ordeal, my computer being pushed to the llimits thanks to format and codec wars between companies making the footage a bitch to work with on my PC set-up, quad-core be damned (and no, this still won't turn me to the dark side of the Mac). Sure, it was a whore-job, purely for the money (and whore jobs are the only jobs i seem to have been able to get throughout the whole of this year) but there was an element of pride there, a bit of heart and passion in the whole thing.

So when the episode aired and it was credited to a different director and editor I was, understandably, a wee bit miffed.

Currently I'm writing a different tv series which is someone else's concept and story, and the whole process has been nothing less than frustrating. I was told from the beginning that every draft I write will definitely go through a lot of changes and I could understand that, but when you see the final draft and only a handful of your scenes actually make the final draft it tends to make one wonder whether it was changed for the purposes of the tone and story and series style in general or it was changed because it was shit. Right now I honestly don't know whether it's right that I get credited for the scripts because not much of it is my work.

All this whoring has gotten me into a funk of unprecedented proportions and the Guber is not liking it one bit. I just realized I haven't written a single script of my own material this whole year ("Breaking Up..." was improvised and "London Calling" was written last year). Sure, there was the short film i did at the beginning of the year, "The Writing on the Wall", but that was written for the purposes of the event, it wasn't a story I had a burning desire to tell from deep within my fast food encrusted bowels.

Yes, the whoring pays the bills and keeps the Guber well filled with munchies, but it's beginning to really get to me in a way that I never thought it would. I thought I could keep an objective view of things when working on other peoples stories but it's not as easy as I thought it would be.

Especially the whole 'credit' thing. Am I being a diva for thinking that it ain't right? Sure, I won't get any crap from critics for the unbelievable shittiness of the storyline, but there are parts that I am proud of, and what little praise the few decent scenes will get will be directed to someone else.

Sigh... but Guber still needs to get paid,and hence the whoring may have to continue. Every pitch I've done this year (and there have been quite a few) hasn't even been responded to with a "we'll let you know", they're either flat-out ignored or dubbed "too clever".

Yes, it's a bitch post. An emo rant of subdued proportions. Shit's getting to me, there is no doubt there, and the fact of the matter is it shouldn't. The fires need to be stoked, and the stoking apparatus must be dusted off and poked at my belly, for it is a fine belly of supreme girth.

Yes! The belly needs to be poked and stoked! Poked and prodded and pushed to regurgitative limits! The year is almost at an end, and something must be done. Something epic and moist with frilly bits! These are the bad days, the all or nothing days, they're back!

LET... US... FUCK...!

Star Before Story

So for most of this year I've mainly been working on other people's scripts and stories and the experience has been, for the most part, akin to having one's balls smothered with Deep Heat and stretched across a tennis court for hedgehogs to roll around in.

And if you're a female and want to know what that pain is like, replace the word 'balls' in the above paragraph with 'labia'.

The problem, which has become more and more blindingly apparent as I continue to work in the local television industry, is that story, in its essence, is not considered an important part of the creative process, which is akin to saying blueprints are not considered an important part of the process of making a car.

(Take note, local manufacturers. Except the dudes that made the Kelisa. I love my Kelisa.)

As a writer, you can imagine how much this realization makes me sick to my stomach, but it is true. Story and plot come second fiddle to items such as crowd-pulling stars, and in a country that is known for not having much budget to do anything spectacular on screen, you would think that story would come first, but no.

Sadly, no.

One of my favorite examples of a situation in television where it is understood just how important the story is to the enjoyability of the show is British television. Sure, of recent years the budgets for British television have very obviously gone up, what with the likes of mass CGI use in the recent Doctor Who season and the incredible art direction and cinematography of Life On Mars, but even then, story still comes first. Back when Doctor Who was shot on flimsy sets with very dodgy looking props people still tuned in because of the stories, the characters. British TV never had the budget of American TV and even with the slicker programming of recent years they still don't have the budget of something like Heroes or Prison Break, but they understand the importance of story and it is so evident in their work. If anything, we should be following their example of good writing as opposed to trying to be like American television.

And even then, local television won't go as far as American television does. You don't see many high-concept television shows like Lost or Dexter on local television, do you?

And in a way I can understand that - there's so little money and so much fear on making back an investment that taking a risk with a concept that may go over the majority of peoples' heads is quite scary. I don't think one should be scared of producing a high-concept TV series but I can understand why one might be, and it's saddening because instead of coming up with a brand new concept producers would much rather do something that's already been tried and tested. And even if the concept hasn't been tried and tested here, at the very least it's been done in other countries and the story sells over here, hence showing a market for it.
So fine. If that's how you want to play it, fine. Do the generic stories, the ones that you know people will tune in to. Fine. Don't take risks with archetypes, don't mess with tried and tested formula and structure, don't try to subvert the genre, fine.

But does that mean no effort should be made to make the story gripping? Exciting? Enjoyable? There are very simple rules in scriptwriting that, at the very least, keeps the story going, no matter how generic. Simple rules of structure that ensure that the story, though maybe not told well, is still told and understood.

But even that doesn't matter. Why? Because at the end of the day, it seems that what producers find more important is not how many people enjoy the show, but how many people watch it, and therein lies the biggest problem with the local film and television industry.

Nobody cares about whether or not the viewer enjoys the show as much as how much profit is made out of the show. Whether the product is good or bad is secondary to whether or not people come and watch it in the first place. Draw them in, get the bums on the seats and don't give a flying fuckola whether or not they're enjoying themselves and immersing themselves into the story.

And for some strange reason that I cannot fathom this doesn't disillusion me as much as it should do.

Stepping Out of the Shadows

At some point, just before Raya, I decided it would be nice to shoot an incredibly DIY short film for iFilmIndie's 'the Gathering' event at KLPac. 'Some Like It White' felt overplayed and a long time has passed since 'Nicotine'. As for the short I did at the beginning of the year, 'The Writing on the Wall', I felt that it didn't have enough me in it.

What do I mean by me? Well, the short film was written more to suit the event itself, the Youth '08 festival which was all about youths empowering themselves to follow their own dreams professionally (or something of that nature), and I wrote a script based on that. So whilst the other two filmmakers used the event as a lot to shoot their own ideas, I crafted mine based on the event. And though I had a HDV camera and a steadicam, what the film didn't have ultimately was true heart. The film had a lot of the techniques that I use and themes that I explore, but I had already explored these themes in other projects.

It didn't have enough me. At least, the me of the time.

And what was the me back then? A sad, pathetic man gripping on the fringes of normality, still shell-shocked from the events of the time. I didn't notice for a good long while, but a lot of changes happened, and though they always say it's always darkest before the dawn, that dark period got pretty fucking dark. In retrospect it's a good thing I didn't put any me of the time into the short film. The kids at the event would probably turn their backs on hope and all end up becoming dullards.

I found myself looking back at the past as opposed to living in the hear and now and thinking about the future, and found myself wallowing in past glories, past lives and past accomplishments, trying to make some sense of it all, and at this point of my life, at the here and now, something became very fucking apparent.

I was once again an emoboy.

Now, whilst emo is a viable marketing brand for the young and angry romantics of our time that enjoy the expressiveness of black eye liner and side parting fringes that seriously impair vision, it was something I had, for a good number of years, managed to watch from the sidelines and take the piss out of, and it's that piss-taking aspect of me, the cynical, sarcastic, cheeky lil' bugger that I once was had been replaced by a twenty eight year old man listening to 'The Black Parade' on loop.

This. Will. Not. Do.

Working on a high profile TV job made me paranoid, scared that shooting my mouth off would endanger my future jobs. Knowing that certain people were keeping tabs on this little site, reading the thoughts of the Guber and scrutinizing every detail made me watch my words. And this was not the Guber way.

Back in the days of the Ballad of Justin Guber I was never this wary. I wrote what I thought and felt whilst still maintaining a semblance of privacy when need be, but I certainly never feared the consequences of my typed out thrash.

And I realized all this whilst making my little short film for the iFilmIndie Gathering.

The short was nothing ground-breaking. I had been watching a lot of comedy (mainly to keep my spirits up) such as the Judd Apatow and Christopher Guest movies as well as Ricky Gervais' tv shows and wanted to do something similar - improvised gags, humor out of an uncomfortable situation, all that bollocks.

Whilst coming up with the plot outline and going through it with Col. Kurtz, he brought up something from the first draft. I can't remember the exact words, but it was along the lines of "there isn't enough you in it". We bounced a couple of ideas and I wrote a second draft of the plot, which was what I shot.

Shooting the thing was like going back to the first year I started making movies - for the first day there was just me and a boom guy as I ran between three cameras, operating them all in unison. Day two was me and Col. Kurtz with one camera operator, improvising away. And whilst the shoot itself was fun, it didn't really hit me how much I was enjoying the whole experience until I started editing it.

This was the feeling I had missed for so long - actually enjoying the edit. I was up non-stop editing the thing to make it for the deadline, trimming down the material to fit into the slot, even though there was so much material I wanted to put in, and I was loving it. Sure, I hadn't slept, I was filled with caffeine and my neck felt like I had been sucking cock in the alleyways of sunset boulevard for 21 hours straight but I was loving every minute of it.

(Though I doubt I'd enjoy sucking cock for 21 hours straight as much).

Screening the thing elated me even more, watching the audience react to the movie. After weeks of stressing out over work, work and more work this tiny little film brought back a feeling I hadn't felt in a damn long time - the joy of filmmaking.

I rebooted, and all systems are go.

Of course, it wasn't just the short film that's helped me out of the funk - throughout the year, I've had nothing but the help of a great number of good friends who've all pulled me up piece by piece. Some of them may think they did nothing, but they did. And some of them may have even been frustrated with me, trying their best to pull me back as I sank deeper and deeper into insomnia and lethargy, and to those friends I apologize for being such a damn sourpuss and thank them for sticking with me through the proverbial shit. Some of them are friends that I've only recently made and have shun a light through my windows like a 2k Arri and brightened up my day immensely.

The short film was that last step on the long road to recovery, and an important one. I feel recharged, re-energized and ready to reprezizent. None of this takes away the shite-load of work that I still have piled up, none of this speeds up the payments that I'm waiting for from various clients, but it helps.

In fact, it's helped so much that this post sounds like the confessions of someone in a therapy session after having an epiphany.

Or a character in a PG-rated movie.

Fuck me, I hope my life doesn't turn into one of those.

Inspiration, Insanity, The Industry & James Lipton, Bitch

 Everybody loves comedy. I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone who didn't enjoy comedy in one form or another. It's a release of tension, a great, big guffaw, a chortle, a giggle.

A larf.

The universal symbol for theater is the masks of comedy and tragedy, taken from Greek times, and I've always found it fascinating how the two were so intricately tied, a yin-yang kind of relationship. After all, what is comedy if not tragedy seen from a different viewpoint? If you were David Brent (or any of the characters, for that matter) in the Office those situations wouldn't be funny to you, they would be downright painful.

From an early age I was surrounded by comedy and didn't just enjoy it, but was fascinated by it. Even at a young age I knew there was a craft there, a skill in the writing and the timing, whether it was the Young Ones or Fawlty Towers, P. Ramlee or Benny Hill, there was an intelligence there in the crafting of the comedy which has always piqued my curiosity.

Earlier today, whilst downloading semi-nude images of Katherine Heigl and Milla Kunis (both not only sexy but very funny ladies) I opened another window and started randomly searching YouTube for some comedy. I watched some of Will Ferrell's celebrity jeopardy sketches from SNL, Bill Bailey talking about Starsky & Hutch's background music, a silly yet funny prank on a girl that involves teabagging, some outtakes from the 40 Year Old Virgin, and some skits from the Dave Chapelle show.

As I followed the related links on Dave Chapelle, I found something interesting - Dave Chapelle had made an appearance on the James Lipton show 'In the Actors Studio'.

I had seen some clips of this show and had, at previous times, found it incredibly dull and pompous. It just felt incredibly pretentious to me and didn't interest me, even though I'm the type of person that devours any kind of video about the inner workings of artists. I just have a thing about stuff like that. I have a box set of Fawlty Towers on VHS and I still love it because every episode is introduced by an interview with John Cleese and I can listen to the man talk about the theory of comedy for years. But Lipton's show? Never really interested me.

Until I saw this.

As I watched all ten parts of the show I found myself interested, inspired and, more often than not, laughing my ass off. It's not just that Dave Chapelle's a funny guy, but that Lipton and Chapelle were both feeding off each other, bouncing the comedy between them to the point that they even have a dance off which was just surreal.

And I doubt there's any other interview where you can hear James Lipton say, in his incredibly academic and authorative and serious voice, "what was the inspiration behind the song 'I want to pee on you'?"

Or hearing him say, "where are my fucking royalties?"

To have Dave Chapelle on the show not only made the show seem a lot less pompous than I thought it was, it also did what I didn't think shows like that would do which was legitimize and acknowledge that kind of humor that many academics may consider to be childish buffoonery.

The one point that really touched me, though, was when Chapelle warns the students to prepare to have their hearts broken when they get into the industry and witness first hand what happens when their art collides with commerce.

The point really got to me because it's something that a lot of people talk about but to experience it is a whole new thing. I find it harder and harder to write these days as opposed to three or four years ago when I didn't worry about commercial sensibilities and actually selling the idea. Nowadays I see pitch after pitch of mine thrown out the window and it's deeply depressing.

I remember the first time I started writing a script for a possible television movie. I was so amped up on the idea I couldn't get the story out of my head and, over a few hours, wrote the first forty pages when all the company asked for was a synopsis. Knowing how I write and not imagining any other name actors being able to pull off the dialogue, I wanted to play the male lead to make things easier as opposed to trying to find someone who can pull it off. The response was the first of many stingers, which basically suggested someone else to play the lead (that I totally disagreed with) and that I cut down the dialogue and make the comedy more slapstick instead.

This was almost three years ago, and I still haven't finished that script because it stings just thinking about it. As you can see, I don't take rejection lightly.

Since then I've seen rejections for a plethora of reasons that make absolutely no sense to me. I wish the shit didn't affect me, but it does. All these reasons are taken into consideration the next time I write and it's like a creative barrier made up of dead bodies and barbed wire and smells of wee. You wanna get around it, but in all honesty you'd rather just stay away.
Another comedy and writing inspiration of mine is Kevin Smith (no surprise there). There's another video I found a while back of one of his Q&A's that I enjoyed and is the perfect cure for those days when I wish I was back in advertising after witnessing the inanities of working in the film industry.

The video is of Kevin Smith's ordeals vis-a-vis his Superman script, way before Brandon Routh put on the codpiece.

Enjoi.

Down With the Woo

Like all hot-blooded males throughout the world, I love a good action film. I can watch Die Hard on loop and Rambo IV was balls-out mental fun, even though the plot was drivel. During the formative years in my teens when I really started to feel like I wanted to be a filmmaker, there were many filmmakers at the time that influenced my decision. Besides the obvious ones that I keep mentioning such as Scorcese, Kevin Smith, Robert Rodriguez, Tarantino and P. Ramlee, there was also one Hong Kong director who's filmmaking style influenced me greatly at the time - John "slow-mo-bullet-fest" Woo.

When I saw 'A Better Tomorrow' I thought to myself, "wow, this is action". When my other film geek friend kept raving about how violent Reservoir Dogs was, I passed him 'A Better Tomorrow 2' and said, "that isn't violence. This is violence."

'The Killer' blew me away, 'Bullet in the Head' was surprisingly touching, even though it was pretty much a Chinese 'Deer Hunter', and 'Hard Boiled' cemented the fact that no one was cooler than Chow Yun Fat.

Of course, things are different now, and the whole balletic-bullet-fest that was his trademark has since been aped to oblivion and even John Woo hasn't done anything like it since 'Face/Off', the closest Hollywood came to putting out a proper Woo film before fucking it all up with 'Paycheck'.

Nowadays, action has gone in the direction of the realistic - shaky, telephoto-ed cameras a la Bourne and even when doing a death-defying act it's presented in such a way as possible via free running or some other such acrobatic feat.

But I've always wanted to shoot some Woo style stuff, just for the fun of it. I've always wanted to do an action film because, well, it's an action film. Action films are one of the few genres that really can only be presented in the medium of film. Whilst you can imagine a stage adaptation of 'Reservoir Dogs' or 'Rumble Fish' (and I have seen such adaptations, both good), it's a bit harder to imagine 'Die Hard' on stage.
Or 'Shoot Em Up'.

When I was offered to direct the second season of a local TV series focusing on doctors' love lives in a hospital, they also asked whether I could direct the last episode of season one because I may be more suited to action.

Action? In a medical drama? Yes. Below is a behind-the-scenes video I edited together from video footage on my Canon powershot G9.

I heard that a lot of doctors were pissed at the lack of realism and technical errors in the show. Well, if they were pissed at that, wait till they see this episode.

Hehehehe...

This was the first time I ever shot a 'proper' action sequence and the first time I had a pyrotechnics crew. The first shot we did was when one of the bad guys shoots at a cop and a doctor, missing and hitting a wall, blowing chunks out of it. The pyro dudes set up the charges, then we stood behind the plywood wall, about five or six feet away, watching the monitor. After rehearsing the flow a couple of times (because every squib costs money), we rolled and I called out, "Action! One! Two! Three!"

The next thing I knew, there were a couple of explosions and we were covered in plywood. Coolness.

The one thing I never anticipated though was how long it takes to shoot an action sequence. We had three to four cameras running at the same time so that we wouldn't have to reset and get reverse angles and what have you, but even then it took a while.

Step one: block out the shots so that the camera operator knows what to do and the pyro guys know where they can put their charges and hide their detonators.

Step two: whilst their setting up, rehearse the shots with the actors. The John Woo jumping sequence took the longest and I kept showing the guy, physically, how I wanted him to jump, to the point that the whole of my left side ached from constantly jumping in mid air onto a stretcher, but with every rehearsal I could see the guy was afraid of hurting himself with the jump. Sigh...

Step three: rehearse again with the pyro guys and camera operator with last minute touch ups on lights and stuff.

Step four: bang!

Each 10 to 15 second shot would take on average anywhere between one to three hours to get, and I had 15 to 18 shots in the whole sequence. And a bunch of other scenes to shoot on that day as well! Aaargghh...

In the end I think we got it all, and next week I start editing the episode. Should be interesting.

Or mental.

Or both.

A Question of Professionalism

Three to four years ago, I was blogging at 20six about how I wanted to be a director. I wanted the grab the bull by its bollocks and do what I've always wanted to do since I was a kid - filmmaking.

Cut to today, and as I sit here typing this I wonder whether I'm even cut out for the job, whoring myself for some piss poor excuse of a script so badly written Uwe Boll would reject it.

The whoring isn't something I've been wrestling with in my conscious too much, though it does bug me from time to time. I was originally offered to write this pathetic attempt at storytelling under the supervision of another writer, and made the decision then and there, after looking through the story notes and character sheets and doing up  rough first draft and seeing the comments made, that I could not do this job without changing my credit to 'Mike Hunt', and even then, it would be an insult to the gag. God knows I needed the money but I couldn't continue with a clear conscious.

When they offered me the job of directing it, I was even more in debt than when they offered the writing gig, and hadn't had a paying job in over five months. But the reason i took the job wasn't only because of desperation and a hunger to eat something decent. It represented a challenge that almost taunted me, in a way. It would give me a chance to prove myself in the mainstream world. It was also a lot easier on my conscious because I'm one of the few people who believes the writer is a smidgen more important than the director. I can live with being called a crap director (and, to a lot of people out there, I am, and have been told so) but to be called a crap writer would insult the almighty fuck out of me.

Coming from an independent background, I'm used to continuing on in the face of faeces flying furiously from afar. When you're used to doing a lot of low to no budget filmmaking you figure out very quickly the shortcuts and ins and outs, so putting up with the most poorly managed shoot imaginable didn't seem too daunting for me.

Until now.

I've tried to make the best of a bad situation, day in and day out. If you've ever met me in the past few weeks and asked how the shoot is, you'd know that things are never going swimmingly. But the events of today have really made me wonder - am I cut out for this life? Am I meant to be a screaming, egoistic asshole of a director to get anything fucking done around here, to get a little respect? Is that what's expected of me? Am I meant to lose my temper on a daily basis, throw a tantrum, have chairs fly left right and centre? Is that what I have to do to get respect around here? Is that what is expected of a director, a leader?

Because I don't believe that. I refuse to believe that that is how a director is supposed to act, I flat out refuse. I hear so many stories of local mainstream directors with egos as big as an elephants left nut and they produce the most unwatchable shit imaginable. I have always believed that a leader should be able to do everything he expects his followers to do, nothing more, nothing less (I think that's an Alexander quote). I strongly believe in leading by example, and whilst it works for a large percentage of my team, there's that 10% that aren't getting the picture.

And then there's those occasional looks. Fuck the looks, an actress flat out asked me today whether i realize, as a director, i have the most power on this set. But as much as I'd like to believe that, I know it's false, because this isn't my production and I feel about as revered and respected by the producers as a fart in the wind.

I took on this job to increase my job scope, get my name more out there and scope for potential crew members and actors and actresses for future jobs, but after the events of today I wonder what those who I'd like to work with again even think of me. Do they see me the same way the numerous so-called bigwigs in this country see me? A young, inexperienced filmmaker who made a short film or two with an English/American accent with no connections?

I wanted to make my name in this line of work by my work, not by sucking reams of cock, but even though I haven't got a mouthful of jizz I still feel like an underpaid whore. I wanted to refrain, as much as I could, from publicly bad mouthing this job and making any comments about the script, and tomorrow I'll probably be a lot calmer and continue as normal and 'assume the position', but I've had it up to here with the everyday crap this job entails and currently couldn't give two fucks and a doggy biscuit if the producers catch wind of this post and decide to fire me.

When It's No Longer Fun to Slice n' Dice

Back in the days, before 'Ciplak' was released, I was contacted by a production company (name withheld to protect my possible future filmmaking career) who had heard about the rumblings of 'Ciplak' and asked whether they could see a showreel. I burnt the first ten minutes to a DVD together with some of my music videos and short films. All in all, a complete package of no-budget work. To this day, I will never forget what those people said after they watched it.

"You're not that good a director, but you're a great editor."

And to this day, I actually think that is a valid statement.

I still don't really see myself as a director. Not in the way most people see directors and especially after seeing how some of my friends direct. Some have crystal clear ideas as to how the film should look and feel, others spend hours making sure their actors are in the correct frame of mind and are really bringing out the performance.

I just shoot some footage and see what happens in the edit room.

This technique of 'filmmaking' really came out of necessity. From when I was fooling around with my mom's video camera onwards I've never had the means to get 'the shot' so I just don't bother. I shoot what I can and try and make sense of it in the edit, using editing techniques to control the pace, hide the flaws and sometimes completely re-write the entire movie.

And, for the first time, it's not working.

There's a scene in London Calling which I just can't edit. I have no idea how to make it work. Almost all the other scenes that have been shot can be cut into something that makes sense but, for the purposes of the scene and the story, this one fucking scene refuses to take form. It's like being a sculpture with a big block of marble, chiseling away at a profile bust of Julius Ceasar, only to discover that there was a big iron rod inside, protruding at exactly the same place where you were going to work on the nose, but you've chiseled and carved everything else around it.

Fuck.

I have a few ideas on how to make the scene work, as it's an important scene, and hopefully all be well.

And if all isn't well, I'm turning the movie into an animated musical.

Dark City: Eye See Eye Believe

So yeah, another one of my episodes will be popping up next week (I think, still trying to get confirmation). After the mind-fuckery that was my last episode, this one's a bit more straight forward, although still not that linear.

Interesting note: The other day the editor at Niche, James, commented on how every single one of my episodes starts at the end. I never realized this until he pointed it out, but it's true. And if I don't start at the end, I'll start at the beginning, then go to the end, then go to the middle, then the beginning, then the end again (blame Tarantino).

I think the main reason I do this is because of the format and the knowledge of how fickle people watching TV can be. If I start with some kind of weird fucked up shit for five minutes, with no explanation, then go straight to what happened before in order to make the audience watch the whole show. I don't know if it works, but fingers crossed, eh?

So yeah. 'Eye See Eye Believe' (or, as it's called in Malaysia, 'Mata Nampak Mata Percaya'). A straight up pontianak story (that's a Malaysian vampire for you Westerners), with a twist. The script was pretty tight and simple. A bit too simple, actually. For the first time I wrote too little, and had to shoot an extra scene after I edited it to fit the run-time (my original cut was 13 minutes long). This was also the first production where I got to use a bunch of really cool rigs for attaching cameras to cars...

The cool thing about these rigs is that you can just keep driving and shooting and the shots you get look so much more high-budgeted than it actually is.

Unfortunately, the bad thing about the set up is that the cameras are rather obstructive. We had one camera at the front with a piece of card above it to stop any glare which already made it difficult for the actor to drive, then another on the left hand side which made it worse because if you drove too close to anything on the left you run the risk of destroying the camera.

The ladder was actually used to do the spook floating scene. I needed a close up of the pontianak's feet rising and originally we thought we could just lift the actress up. No go. In the end, she sat down on the ladder and the two guys on either side lifted the ladder up and moved it forward, making it seem like she's floating. Nifty, eh?

I could've sworn I'd win this bet, but I didn't. Blasted rain!

So, yeah. Tune in next week on Astro Ria at 10.30pm Wednesday to check out this sordid little story. Please.