On the face of it, 2022 was another routine year for Singapore cinema. Jack Neo continued to dominate the local box office with two spin-offs from the immensely popular Ah Boys to Men series. The first, Ah Girls Go Army, was released in February as a Lunar New Year offering. Critics were negative, with one notable critic saying it was “as funny as a covid positive test,” but the film went on surpass S$1 million in the first six days of release. As with the earlier Long Long Time Ago series release strategy, a second part was announced almost immediately. The film, Ah Girls Go Army Again, was released in June to the same reception as its predecessor.
A 13-film retrospective of beloved entertainer Mat Sentol at the Asian Film Archive in May provoked some further discussions about the nature of commercial films. Mat Sentol, real name Abdul Rasip Yahya, had a rich career as an actor, director, illustrator, production designer, scriptwriter, singer/songwriter and special effects artist. He largely worked at the Cathay-Keris film studio from the late 1950s until the 1970s, when the studio wound down its film production arm. In the films he directed and starred in, Mat Sentol developed a lovable rascal persona akin to a cross between Bugs Bunny and Harpo Marx with a touch of slapstick comedian Charley Bowers.
While most of the films consist of broad comedy, pratfalls, and chases along the lines of Benny Hill skits, there are some genuine highlights. Two films in particular give us the best glimpse of Mat Sentol’s inspired lunacy. Mat Bond (1967), a zany spoof of the James Bond phenomenon, and Mat Karang Guni (1971), in which the usual crazy antics are elevated by a credible script and an almost surreal climax. Although a supporting actor in Si-Murai (1968), directed by fellow studio matinee star turn director Nordin Ahmad, the film turned out to be a rediscovered gem from Singapore’s cinematic past. A one-of-a-kind lovechild of traditional Malay folklore storytelling commingled with Japanese samurai jidaigeki tropes and a keen mimicry of the burgeoning tokusatsu (special effects) genre occurring in the Japanese media industry of the period.
Mat Sentol stuck to what he knew best, as he was an entertainer first and foremost. Likewise, Jack Neo started his career as an entertainer. His weekly television show made him a well-known personality in Singapore, and when he started making films, he did what he knew: he focused on entertaining the broadest possible audience. Only time will tell if his brand of entertainment survive the travails of time and shifting tastes.
Ken Kwek’s #LookAtMe premiered at the New York Asian Film Festival in July where it received a warm reception. Kwek’s films foreground difficult societal issues, often in a highly stylised satirical fashion. In this latest film, twin brothers expose the homophobic sermons preached by the pastor of an evangelical megachurch via a vlog. This earns one of them a defamation lawsuit and a jail sentence for violating Singapore’s laws about “hurting religious feelings” and “spreading fake news.”
Set to be screened in the Singapore Panorama section at the Singapore International Film Festival later in the year, the film was denied a classification, and this effectively bars any screenings in local theatres for the foreseeable future. The state authorities reasoned that the film harbours “potential to cause enmity and social division,” and that the depictions of the pastor are “suggestive of a real pastor in Singapore,” and the allegation may be “perceived to be offensive, defamatory and contrary to the Maintenance of Religious Harmony Act.” Kwek was not served a lawsuit and imprisoned like his character.
The Singapore International Film Festival stood by #LookAtMe and included the film in its lineup, though it was marked as being unavailable for screening. The festival continues to provide a platform for Singapore-made films which struggle to receive any attention from the cinema chains. Five feature films played in the Singapore Panorama section, including visual artist John Clang’s loving portrait of his parents Absent Smile; a film adaption of local playwright Jean Tay’s eponymous play Boom by Derrick Chew; Before Life After Death, a muted drama by first-time narrative feature filmmaker Anshul Tiwari; the crime thriller, Geylang, which marked the return of Boi Kwong to feature filmmaking; and lastly, Baby Queen, a documentary that chronicles the life of emerging drag queen Opera Tang, directed by Lei Yuan Bing.
Baby Queen is Lei’s fifth feature. From his first feature White Days (2009), through to 03-Flats (2014) and I Dream of Singapore (2019), he has subtly crafted indelible glimpses into the peripheral and the mundane aspects of Singapore society. Whether he is documenting the plight of a foreign laborer stranded in Singapore, or capturing idle conversations between friends performing as actors, Lei’s images eschew the standard documentary stance to impart information. In so doing, he allows us the liberty to respond in our own way.
As mentioned at the start, this account of Singapore cinema has been, by and large, a routine one – the box-office successes of Jack Neo, the banning of a film, and new film festival releases. Fortunately, one film from 2022 offers something a little more. He Shuming’s debut feature film, Ajoomma, a co-production between Singapore and South Korea, premiered at 27th Busan International Film Festival in October. A heartwarming tale of a woman’s journey of self-discovery and eventual acceptance of life, Ajoomma successfully marries commercial appeal with a fine craftsmanship to produce a winning formula imbued with authentic feelings for its characters. The film walks a thin fine line between pandering to the mass audiences’ expectations and having the compassion to express its character’s journey. That distinguishes Ajoomma from the rest of 2022’s Singaporean films.
As of writing, 2023 has seen the nationwide release of Singapore’s first monster film, Circle Line, while another debut feature film, Tomorrow Is a Long While by Jow Zhi Wei premiered at the Berlinale. Find out the fate of these films next year!
Warren Sin