0Freie Generation Reporter:innen: You were here in 2017 for the Talent Project Market. How does it feel to be back?
Zhi Wei Jow: It’s amazing. When I was here in 2017, I watched a lot of films and realized that Berlin has such beautiful cinemas. I’d just been editing on a small laptop. So, seeing my film here on the big screen for the first time was such a moving experience.
FGR: What has your favorite moment at Berlinale been?
ZWJ: There are many things but sharing it with my producers and the actors Edward and Raj was a great experience because everyone had worked really hard on it. The film had been in production for seven years, so finally being able to share it with them has been incredible. It was also the first time they got to watch the whole thing.
Other than that, the Q&As have been fun. People are curious and interested in the film. After working on it for such a long time it’s been great to share it with people and hear what they think about it.
FGR: Did you always intend it to be marketed towards young people or did that happen while applying for the Berlinale program?
ZWJ: To tell the truth, I don’t really think about who this film is for. A lot of my cinephile friends have been watching Tarkovsky, Kurosawa and Ingmar Bergman since they were 15. And I don’t think Kurosawa and Bergman made these films for young people. That made me realize that cinema is for everyone. If you’re willing to go on a journey with a filmmaker, it can be for everyone. So I don’t restrict myself thinking it’s catered for one specific audience.
FGR: Why did you decide to make the film about Meng rather than the father? Did that evolve while you were writing?
ZWJ: I think Meng shares some qualities with me. It is a personal film, so perhaps I feel closer to Meng in a way. But he is not a replication of me – it’s still a work of fiction. And I’m very proud of that because sometimes fiction can expose certain things in a truer way than just replicating what I’m about as a person. And I try not to dictate in a certain way, I try to let the creative process flow in an intuitive manner.
FGR: Which parts of the story are influenced by your own life?
ZWJ: The beginning of the film is inspired by my own experience. I was brought up by my grandmother when I was young because my parents were working a lot. Then she had an illness and passed when I was very young. Years later my dad had the same illness and I realized that it’s hereditary, that I could also have that illness. I was in a very bad state because I was terrified of losing my dad. And I spoke to him, and he said to me: whatever happens, my next life is you. So, in a way the film talks about that, this idea of lineage, of what is inheritance and what is our own individual service.
FGR: You also talk a lot about the immigrant experience in Singapore. Why was it important for you to dig into that?
ZWJ: To answer that I must first go into the history of Singapore. Singapore is a very small country in Southeast Asia made up mainly of immigrants. I myself am an immigrant – my grandparents came from China, which makes me second-generation Singaporean. This idea of immigration is a question that runs through the whole country, because most of us are immigrants. But new immigrants coming and working in Singapore are seen as lower class and are doing jobs Singaporeans don’t want to do. That’s why I feel passionate about this topic – we are all immigrants in Singapore and should think about that when thinking about new immigrants.
FGR: In the movie we come across death a lot. Whenever it is at least close by, a tapir occurs. Why is that?
ZWJ: In 2015 or 2016 there was a picture in the Singapore Daily News. It was a very blurry image of a creature in black and white running down a road in the middle of the night. Of course it was a tapir. In the news they said a tapir had not been seen in Singapore for 30 years. The possibility was raised that because Singapore is such a small country and developing at such a tremendous rate, the tapir’s habitats have been cleared for structures and buildings.
As I was writing the film, I always knew I wanted an animal in there. In the second half of the film, I wanted to keep the characters close to nature. So, I thought to myself that the tapir is the perfect symbol for this idea of the characters trying to find their position in our country, but they have nowhere to go, so they must go somewhere where maybe they don’t belong.
In the film, the tapir goes into the city and Meng goes into the jungle. It’s like a switch.
Also, the tapir has a deep history in Singapore. In the 16-hundreds, when the Chinese Emperor sent out people to capture magnificent specimens of animals from over the world to be presented to him, an admiral captured the tapir and he described it as a supernatural animal. In mythology, the tapir is a dream eater. It means, that a tapir eats nightmares so that you can have a peaceful rest. And rest is an important theme in the film.
FGR: Could you elaborate on the military service in Singapore and whether it was more of freedom giver or taker to you, as both were shown in the movie?
ZWJ: For me, it used to be two and a half years of conscription, but it has been reduced to two years. Because Singapore is a very small country, in order to have a proper army they feel the need for conscription, otherwise it wouldn’t be big enough.
Regarding freedom – I think it’s both. There’s this dichotomy because in the film, Meng finds his own freedom. He’s always looking for his idea of freedom and it’s more about his individually going out. I think I shared that quality with him while making this film, after all the delays with the pandemic. I don’t think it’s necessarily the army that gives or takes.
I think everybody feels different about the army. Personally, I was more interested in cinema and movies. Then all of a sudden, I was put into a different track. It makes you reposition yourself within a new context.
FGR: Was there something particularly challenging for you during the shoot?
ZWJ: To be honest, I feel like everything is a challenge for me and I’m always trying to find solutions. It was a tough shoot because we shot in Singapore and then on Christmas Eve we flew to Taiwan and had to spend three weeks in quarantine over Christmas and New Year’s. For me it was okay because I’m good with solitude, but it was really hard for some of the crew members.
But the toughest would have been shooting in the jungle in winter because it was so cold. We were shooting at very high altitudes so even though it can be quite hot in other areas of Taiwan, it was freezing.
FGR: Did you have a specific writing ritual, like getting up at a specific time each day?
ZWJ: Before I became a director, I always wanted to be a script writer because I love the writing process. I love being along with my thoughts, coming up with the characters and the world. I always tell my producers to leave me alone to finish everything and I’ll show it to them when I’m ready.
For this specific film I went to Japan. I’d get up at 11 pm and write until the sun came up. Then I’d take the metro to a temple – Engaku-ji, where Ozu Yasujiro, a great Japanese filmmaker, is buried. I would go to his grave with two bottles of Sake – because Ozu really loved Sake and he is buried with his mother – and I’d sit there and tell him about the story I was writing. Ozu is one of my favorite filmmakers, so that felt very natural to me, and I really loved that. I’d sit there for about an hour and then go home to bed.
The first time I went to the temple, I didn’t know where to go because it’s a very big temple with thousands of graves. And when I told a monk at the reception that I was looking for Ozu, he drew me a handwritten map with directions to his tombstone.
FGR: Was Ozu also one of the reasons you wanted to become a filmmaker or is there another story to it?
ZWJ: I think I was quite a directionless kid. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. But somehow, I fell in love with the cinema. I started watching films from all over the world – Italian films, Hollywood school ball comedies, Chinese cinema. And one day I thought maybe I should try to be a filmmaker. But of course, it’s very scary. Nobody in my family is an artist or knows anything about cinema. So, I went to my mom and told her about my thoughts.
And she told me the story of my grandfather. He was a laborer back in the sixties in Singapore and after work every day without fail he’d go to the cinema by himself. He’d come home, take a shower, comb his hair with gel, put on his clothes. He’d take his own stool in case the cinema is full.
In Singapore, we are quite a pragmatic society. Being in the art is not an easy thing. But because of my grandfather, my mother was very open about it. She said: somehow I think your love for cinema was given to you by your grandfather. Because he passed away when I was very young, I never knew him that well. But this seems to have been a connection for us. And hence began my journey.
I’m very lucky. I really think if I had been born to another family, this would not have been possible.
FGR: I’m certainly glad your mom was so open and made this path possible for you. Thank you so much for your time!
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