I love watching movies and occasionally, I write about them, but the thought of actually making one never really crossed my mind. Still, when the opportunity to do so came along, it was just too tempting to pass up. This also seemed to be the case for my fellow coursemates, which included a home-maker, teacher-to-be, student, tv host, as well as one who was already in the industry. Everyone had some degree of passion for film but simply never had a chance to fully explore it.

So there we were, at a full-time, four-week course on HD filmmaking offered by Objectifs - Centre for Photography and Filmmaking. I wasn’t quite prepared for how intense or rewarding it would be. The course covered every aspect of filmmaking from scripting, directing, camera handling, lighting, sound, casting, acting (Note to M: I haven’t signed the release form yet!), scheduling, budgeting, editing and even marketing. We also watched a lot of local short films spanning the gamut of genres from drama to comedy to experimental to music videos to animation. At the end of each module, we would rethink our films and arrived at the conclusion that the perfect (ie. easiest to complete) film was one with no actors, no dialogue, maybe a voice-over or subtitles, shot only with ambient light, with no complicated camera-work, all wrapped up in a pretty dvd box for distribution to festivals.

We had the privilege of learning from instructors who were in the business of making films and enjoyed their anecdotes and inside stories even as they strove to impart the technical aspects of movie-making to us. Without a doubt, this had to be some of the most accommodating and patient people we’d ever come in contact with. So once again, thank you! I wondered if it was the fact that nobody seemed to have gotten into the business to make money but rather, had done so because film was a passion that could not be denied. This passion shaped their attitudes and sensibilities and their dealings with others. Either that or they had worked with far more unreasonable people and dealing with newbie filmmakers was a walk in the park.

The fact that we would be using HD equipment was something of a coup since most filmmakers start off shooting on digital tape (as opposed to film). The import of this was lessened for us somewhat simply because as first-time film-makers, we had no basis of comparison. At times, the inconveniences and technical complications hardly seemed worth it. Shooting on HD meant storing data on P2 cards, with a capacity of only 4 minutes per card, or 8 minutes in total given the two slots. Gone was the luxury of a 60-minute tape and nearly limitless takes. On the other hand, it helped to instill a certain discipline in shooting. Also, the limited capacity of the P2 cards meant that data had to be transferred to a P2 store. It made one feel very vulnerable, to have one’s precious footage sitting in an external drive and open to corruption and/or loss during all the transferring of data. I admit though that the final footage looked beautiful.

It seems counter-intuitive, but shooting turned out to be the shortest part of the entire filmmaking process. Pre-production, including location-scouting, prop-gathering, casting etc etc and post-production, mainly editing, took up much more time. But in a sense, everything was geared towards the shooting process. Pre-production was all about ensuring a smooth shoot, while post-production was all about salvaging whatever had been shot into a cohesive that’s-what-I–had-in-mind-all-along final product. (Note to self: Never ever use scrolling credits again.)

Filmmaker Robert Bresson said that a film is born three times – in the writing, the shooting and the editing. (“My movie is born first in my head, dies on paper; is resuscitated by the living persons and real objects I use, which are killed on film but, placed in a certain order and projected on to a screen, come to life again like flowers in water.”) It was hence immensely satisfying to have been equipped with the skills for all three forms of birth from the course. Not to mention being able to type out for the credits “Written, Directed and Edited By.” This meant though that a three-headed monstrosity could not be blamed on three different personalities but was the sole responsibility of one.

Now that I’ve experienced first-hand the sheer amount of work that goes into a (short) film, can I still be so cavalier as to pass summary judgment on what I watch? Well, if I must, I must.

(For sinema.sg)

Ha Noi

Went to the Dong Xuan market in the morning, which was reminiscent of the old Chinatown market. Final bowl of rice vermicelli (14kd) on the sidewalk. Quick stop at PhoCo Café (2 Hang Dong) for Ha Noi’s weakest coffee and tiniest toilet. Bought a kilo of the teeny-tiny tangerines (20kd) to bring home and then it was back to the hotel to pack up to catch the 1.30 pm flight home.

I remember Ha Noi from a trip four years ago as a laidback and idyllic town. That’s no longer true. While it doesn’t quite feel like a city given the lack of tall buildings, the energy surging through the place was palpable. The streets thronged with motorbikes and the air was filled with ceaseless cacophonous klaxoning and pungent exhaust which residents battled against with face-masks. Wafting among the wooziness-inducing fumes were the tempting smells of food hawked by street peddlers. Life spilled onto the sidewalks as people ate, drank and gossiped on the little plastic stoops. Women (it was almost always women) sold anything that could be carried in woven baskets and balanced on a pole slung over the shoulders. We walked a lot in Ha Noi and I loved the fact that every different street promised something new in sights and smells. Even walking on different sides of the same street threw up something new. As long as crossing it didn't result in any bodily harm. It took a little getting used to, but the trick to navigating oncoming traffic was to move slowly and maintain eye contact, and let them manoeuvre around you. Or as P put it, just channel your inner third-world being.

This could definitely be a place to visit again. But next time, with a face-mask.

Ha Noi

Fruitful shopping on Le Duan including a Party shirt (50kd) and a pair of slip-ons (180kd from opening price of 350kd).
Had made reservations at Sofitel Metropole’s Le Beaulieu for brunch, but a screw-up in the reservations meant that we ended up at Le Club instead. Oh well, it did mean paying US$35 (US$46 a person all in) instead of forking out US$68. The spread was not very wide but happily, the lack of variety was not an indication of the quality. There were oysters, parma ham and melon, crayfish, lobster, fresh vegetables, cheeses and desserts (ice-cream, chocolates, apple pie, log cake, mousse, fruits). The only disappointment was the bland sushi.

Managed to make it to Café Pho Co (11 Hang Gai), dubbed the secret café by the New York Times, before sunset. From the street, one sees a gallery and a small sign for a café. The narrow walkway opens up into a courtyard which seems to be part of an old Chinese mansion. Seating, reached by spiral staircases, is haphazardly found on the second, third and fourth floors, which offer a bird’s eye view of Hoan Kiem lake. Enjoyed an ice coffee as the sun set.

Finally located Ipa-nima, which had just moved in December to 34 Han Thuyen (http://www.ipa-nima.com/). The girls luxuriated in handbag heaven while I enjoyed the comfy couch and the thoroughly well-designed store.
Met up with the Ts and Ds for dinner at Nam Phuong (19 Pho Phan Chu Trinh, LP). The food had the tasty simplicity of homecooked food and was the perfect final dinner in Ha Noi. We had raw spring rolls, shrimp with banana flower salad, cuttlefish with chilli and lemongrass, beef stir fried with pepper, pork patties grilled with honey, pork and eggs in coconut juice, kale in XO sauce and for dessert, caramel custard and banana fritters.

Ha Noi

Walked to Van Mieu (Temple of Literature) after cyclo negotiations fell through. Le Duan turned out to be another excellent street to explore on foot with shops selling communist party wear and headgear, sneakers, as well as bun cha, grilled pork patties I remembered well from my previous trip.

Spent a pleasant morning at Vietnam’s first university. Spotted a photographer art directing two ao dai-clad ladies (one in green, one in red) and wondered if it was for a tourist calendar.
Lunch was at KOTO (59 Van Mieu, LP), which provides training for street kids. Tired of the no-ice/water rule and ordered the KOTO smoothie (banana, mint, passionfruit) and a ham baguette with salad, as well as coffee and carrot cake (200kd). Happy to report that there were no untoward consequences.

Followed the LP walking tour of the old quarter. Each street offered new treats for the senses, though Hang Ma stood for combining your Christmas and afterlife needs in one convenient location. Was woozy from the sights and sounds and exhaust fumes and refueled with Vietnamese tea at Moca Café (14 Pho Na Tro, LP), located on a lane of chic shopping facing St Joseph’s Cathedral.

Had street food for dinner. Spotted this set-up doing roaring business on Hang Buom, with tables lined up on both sides of the street. Had fried beef noodles, oily and yummy (15kd), and Hanoi beer (20kd). Also ate the raw cucumber (dipped in prune powder and salt) and pickled cucumber side-dish.

Came across this tiny shop (93 Hang Bac, http://www.thuyhiensilk.com/) which packed an impressive assortment of bags as well as other souvenirs. Bought two silk sleeping bags (total 160kd).
It seemed that the whole of Ha Noi was surging towards Hoan Kiem lake on Christmas Eve, and we caught glimpses of a few spurts of fireworks. Balloon-sellers stood in the middle of the street clutching their wares as the crowd thronged and swirled while on the sidewalks, peddlers sold popcorn, candy floss, grilled corn, grilled cuttlefish, fried sausages, fruit.
Had a nightcap at Latino Bar at Melia Hanoi. (US$5 for Bailey’s on the rocks.) Glad to break away from the human mass and get off the smoggy streets.

Ha Long/Ha Noi

Spent a cold, uncomfortable night trying to get to sleep and was woken up at 5, this time by barking dogs. Extremely glad to be returning to Hanoi and Green Park Hotel, where one could at least have a decent shower even if the room smelled of cigarette smoke.
Breakfast was baguette with butter and jam, fried eggs, banana and coffee. Accompanied by the thunderous beat of disco blaring from next door. Which was P and S’s wake-up call.
Spent a lazy morning on the boat enjoying the scenery as it slowly wound its way through Ha Long bay back to the city.

Lunch back in Ha Long city at a joint that was part of APT travel’s (Your pleasure’s our success!) network. More of the same, including potato with pork and fries.
Then a long nap before reaching Ha Noi around 4 pm. Replenishment was at Fanny’s (48 Pho Le Thai To, LP). Picked durian and com (young sticky rice) for an ice-cream version of the Thai dessert. Other delicious flavours tried included ginger, dark chocolate, gren tea. Came to about 35kd, including coffee. As I was about to drink from the glass of water, J’s horrified stare stopped me. But it turned out that S had already done so but no one had even noticed her raising glass to lips. At which point we promised to watch S like a hawk.

Went in search of Ipa-nima (LG) after that, but the number did not compute. The address given was 59G but the trail stopped short at 59D with no handbag heaven in sight. So we had dinner instead, at Brothers Café (26 Pho Nguyen Thai Hoc, LP). It was supposedly set in a 250-year old Buddhist temple, but little trace of that remained from the admittedly elegant restoration. The buffet (220kd) was above average and my favourite was the crab vermicelli.

Ha Long Bay/Cat Ba Island

Woken up by a crowing rooster. At 5 am. Too tired for it to bother me too much.
Breakfast at the hotel had pho (yay! though the beef was tough) along with the usual continental spread. Then a 3-hour ride to Ha Long city to catch the boat. The journey was broken up with a toilet/souvenir shop break where minivans spewing tourists squeezed into a small parking lot. “10th/11th century” relics were cavalierly displayed in dusty cases and going for a steal at a couple of hundred dollars.
Operation Ha Long continued at the jetty as tour agents settled the tickets and herded us about. Trolley bags in hand, we clambered over another boat to get to ours. No sweat, though the boats did begin to drift apart as S was straddled across them. Lunch was served on board, simple but satisfying: cucumber, fish, tofu, green veggies and fried spring rolls. Lounged on the upper deck after that.

The Ha Long bay experience sometimes seemed like a composite of past tours – cruising down Lijiang, drifting on a bamboo raft in Yangshuo, with shades of Longqingxia thrown in. The sense of déjà vu was particularly strong with the visit to the limestone caves. The admittedly impressively-sized Thien Cung Grotto was lit “in the Chinese style,” which meant a garish array of multi-coloured lights.

As it was low tide when we reached Cat Ba island, we had to transfer onto a smaller boat to get ashore. “Like refugees!” gaily commented one of the uncles in our group. The ride to the bay area from the jetty was soundtracked by what could conceivably be Vietnamese folk music/opera. We were deposited at Nam Duong hotel and opted for rooms on the 5th floor (two rooms with 2 twin beds as opposed to a 3-1 split). Hiked up the stairs to our rooms and found lovely views of the sunset from the hallway. Found out later that the other half of the group ended up in a hotel with no seaview, though they could have gotten up close and personal with the hill if they so wished from their windows.

Cat Ba in off-peak season brought to mind Tossa del Mar and Viareggio. We plonked ourselves down on a bench and watched the sun go down while snacking on dao (tiny apples with a crunchy bite) and tiny tangerines (very sweet and flavourful). Dinner back at the hotel was a variation of lunch: beans, better fish, calamari, tomatoes fried with egg, soup. Shared table with retiree from France who was traveling with his wife?/mistress?/girlfriend?
Checked out the beach after dinner. Found two campfires going on: one with disco music blaring and tentative dancing, while the other was much more sedate.

We returned to the bay area to find Cat Ba stirring. There were kids everywhere, men hanging out by the shopfronts, young men and women cruising down the grandiosely broad boulevards. We decided that their principal form of entertainment was klkk, kia lai kia kih, or ‘walk here, walk there.’ “Hey, how’s it going?” “Well, we’ve just kl, now we’re gonna kk!”
There were also massage parlours, karaoke joints, street peddlers (selling pearls, clothing, food), cafes and even the odd disco or two. The Flightless Bird (LP) was full so we settled for flashing-ball-of-light café instead. And watched in disbelief as S poured her coffee into a glass after we had had a conversation about the perils of ice the previous night. Despite pouring the coffee back out, it was too late, and S ended up with an upset stomach. So much for rocking the Cat Ba.

Ha Noi

First thought as the plane was landing: boy, the air sure was hazy. But at least it wasn’t raining. Took a cab into the city (US$10 or 160,000 dong) to Green Park Hotel (http://www.hotel-greenpark.com/). It took a while since the driver didn’t seem to know where it was located. Good thing it was a flat fare.
After depositing our luggage, the first order of business was lunch. The hotel’s recommendation was Pho 24, which was too clean and proper for our liking. Decided to amble over to the old quarter instead where we finally settled on a place on Pho Ly Quoc Su. Alas, given that the copy of Lonely Planet I was lugging along was of the 2001 vintage, we found no sign of pho at the given address. The place we eventually ate at had only pho ga, bird flu be damned. Besides, the outbreak was in the south. Had a most satisfying late lunch (15k dong a bowl).


Moseyed around the area after and took in St Joseph’s Cathedral. One of the strangest sights in Ha Noi was seeing people all decked out in winter wear: woolen caps, scarves, puffy jackets, coats with faux fur trimming. It was enough to make one sweat just looking at them.


The girls went in search of a tailor and ended up at Lotus (89 Hang Gai, Luxe Guide) for made-to-measure ao dais etc.
Coffee break was at Trung Nguyen (20 Pho Hang Mam, LP). Figured if an LP recommendation was still around, it had to be good. Had a cup of chon, aka weasel poop coffee (12kd), which was very thick and very sweet, a definite pick-me-upper.
Signed up for a Ha Long Bay package at Kangaroo Café on Hang Be, found out later it was a rip-off of the original cafe on Pho Bao Khanh. Not that it made a difference. We were happy that the US$30 2 day/1 night Ha Long/Cat Ba package was cheaper than the US$45 quoted by the hotel. There were packages offering a night onboard the boat but we needed to stay on land given J’s motion sickness.
Dinner was at Green Tangerine (48 Hang Be, LG), which served French food in a lovely little courtyard. Enjoyed the pork fillet and the apple and mango crumble. P ordered the fig’s fritter with gorgonzola cheese, which was very good. The scallops were nicely done, though the presentation was rather fussy with the pieces laid out on a chess board of vegetables surrounded by curlicues of mashed potato. S’s five delicacies dessert platter sounded more enticing than it tasted. Waiter was a little snooty though. US$20 each.

What’s Going On…?
Eason Chan
One of Eason's great strengths is his versatility as a vocalist. Unfortunately, that can make for rather scattered albums. Lead single 裙下之臣 'Don't We All Love Dresses' (I think 'Slave to the Dress' would be more to the point) is an ode to women, and, unusually enough, promiscuity. Accordingly, it's one of 2 tracks deleted from the mainland China release. I guess married men in entertainment do get away with double standards.
The heart of the album though, is the two songs 富士山下 and 不如不见. 富士山下 is a lush, gorgeous piece of music, matched with lyrics about a love that's not meant to be, with Mount Fuji looming in the backdrop. It's not an easy song to get a handle on: it's wordy and the lines run into each other with barely a break, but Eason floats along with the words effortlessly, letting 林夕's poetic if sometimes obtuse (then again, it's probably a function of my poor Cantonese) lyrics breathe.
不如不见 has a lovely, wistful melody by 陈小霞, the kind she's so good at writing. 林夕's lyrics didn't seem too promising at first. For some reason, there's this annoying habit of lyricists referencing their own past work, so 十年 is mentioned in the lyrics and in fact, the entire theme seems to be 想哭 redux. And yet, the lyrics and music work together and Eason's quietly affecting delivery is the unexpected sound of heartbreak.
Elsewhere, lyricist extraordinaire 林夕 shows his chops on a track titled Akira Kurosawa. Well, not exactly, the Chinese characters 黑择明 literally mean darkness chooses light. From this pun, 林夕 has fashioned lyrics about life and death infused with imagery of the cinema. Most impressive.