All posts tagged: Filem


881 and 42nd National Day

Royston Tan is a bastard – make me cry on National Day! But congratulations Mindee and Yann Yann – Papaya Sisters rock! I’ve said before that if we get one good local movie a year, we’d be lucky. Last year we had Colin and Yen Yen’s Singapore Dreaming and then Tan Pin Pin’s Singapore Gaga, so that was pretty much a bumper crop by our standards. Last night, we paid good money to watch our first Royston Tan film, 881, and damn it was good money well spent. This film alone makes for a bumper year. I’ll have to admit an earlier aversion to his debut, ’15’, even though my friends told me it was really not a bad piece despite its run-in with the censors (‘aiyah, rebel film wannabe’, I thought), and we thought we’d watch 881 because the subject was interesting enough (hungry ghost getai), we knew the actors personally, and we’d already watched Harry Potter V and Simpsons wasn’t playing at the hour we wanted to watch a movie. It turned out …

Talent II

So what if it’s got Mediacorp Raintree Pictures in the credits. It’s a slick-looking production, and hooray for Caroline Cheong and her billing in this NZ-Singapore filem production called The Tattooist. I’m definitely going to watch this one. NZ films are generally good, even though the last time I watched one was that “My ancestors came on the back of whales” film, called “Whale Rider“, and that was a while ago, because the lead actor, Keisha Castle-Hughes, is now expecting her first child. The Tattooist opens August 31 in NZ, and probably at the same time or not long after that in Singapore. Technorati Tags: NZ, Singapore, film, tattooist Tweet

Patience, young Jedi

I’m not blogging as often as I’d like to be, mostly because days have turned into nights and vice-versa because of work, which is quite fun in spite of the frequent brain-jams I’ve been getting for various reasons. One of the said brain-jamming moments is when I’m sitting here on my computer, trying to type out another three pages of Hossan’s Barry Manilow spoof when I’m suddenly aware of the upstairs neighbour’s kid (or actually it could be the parent, or any human occupant of the upstairs flat, or a very intelligent pet, or… ok I’m scaring myself) trying his or her darndest to hammer out on their piano, the main Star Wars theme song, very, very diligently, very, very slowly. For an hour. Now I’ve the Star Wars theme stuck in my head, and worse, it’s in the broken piano format. I should be glad they’re not singing along to it though: “I like to play the Star Wars, to play the Star Wars, on this piano! At night, I play the Star Wars, …