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Today I had chance to go to the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre to watch the exhibition Krungthep 226. Coincidentally, I just saw a sign that there would also be a play called Wi-Fi Project Version 2.0 by the Saosoong theatre group. I was incredibly lucky as it was their last performance and I probably couldn't find it restaged anywhere else soon.
It was actually a collection of two short plays -- The Google Detective and Hi5...eiei. Both plays portray how our interactions with modern technology can be related to our redefinitions of love and romance, as well as cheating and lies. In a monologue manner and sometimes with multimedia interactions, each play was respectively led by theatre veterans, Damkueng Tithapiyasak and Janya Tanasawangkul.
The Google Detective is about a man looking for a romance on-line, only to be exposed to a rather sophisticated cyberworld where it is impossible to believe or to trust anyone. With a view to looking for love, the actor ends up being too cynical and engaging himself rather in finding out who his on-line friend is. Love is thus impossible and replaced with sex and paranoia.
While The Google Detective revels in its rather pessimistic tone of contemporary romance quest, Hi5...eiei starts off more cheerfully with an 'ab-baew' woman also looking for a romance on-line, only to find her long-lost friend looking to rekindle his romance with her. Full of hope and expectation, she gradually changes from her 'ab-baew' personality to a more 'human' one and moves away from the computer to her real life. However, when it transpires that her long-lost friend already has a girlfriend and is only interested in her as his temporary 'gig', she starts to retreat to the on-line community and sadly assume her 'ab-baew' persona on-line. I personally find this play rather touching, especially how the woman at the end smiles and talks childishly in her innocent guiles. It makes me understand that perhaps being the so-called 'ab-baew' can be just a shell for someone to protect his or her vulnerable self in such a terribly cruel on-line world where images and avatars are not to be trusted.
Having watched these mini-plays, I can't help but feeling rather happy as I have distanced myself from the on-line world in my post-cynicism era. I'm pleased to say that I don't have Hi5 or facebook accounts. I only have this blog and its Multiply mirror-site. So those of you who send me invitations, please stop. Let's meet in the real space if you can catch me.
Spoilers alert!
A Moment in June is a beautiful film that tells the stories of three relationships that involve second chances. Two of them happen in reality and one happens in a play. It's stylishly done and suitable for those who adore Wong Kar Wai's films. For me, it's a cross between his In the Mood for Love and Stephen Daldry's The Hours. It goes without saying that both films showcase some instances of passionate, yet brutal, love and longing. Hence, A Moment in June follows suit by picking up on two blissfully painful cases: one is a failing relationship between two men and the other is a sadistic case of a woman who waits for thirty years to meet her beloved man.
Of course, while the latter case triumphs over the long wait, the former just isn't that lucky, as it's possible that an unexpected accident might have just ended the relationship. What this film shows is probably how love is simply just a game where no one will know what will be the ending. But one can't deny that, like In the Mood for Love, the film does glamorise affairs and make people want to have a secret relationship that will enable them to be 'heroic', i.e. to be able to sacrifice their secret need and live with their legally married partner. In a sense, like The Hours, the relationship of a legally married couple is not portrayed as a sanctuary, but a scene of brutal tedium and compromise that will result in madness and oppression. However, what is 'morally exquisite' in A Moment in June is a sense of responsibility, especially on the part of the father who chooses to stay with his wife as he wishes to be a good father.
However, when I come to think about it, isn't this just another myth of perfect family? Does it mean that you can only have good children as long as their parents are not divorced? I think a lot of parents out there just choose their children to be a pretext to cover up their own cowardice. They daren't face the fact that they're no longer in love, but they just choose to stay together for the sake of their children. I think this myth is lame but sadly a lot of films, including both The Hours and A Moment in June, just perpetrate this myth. In my opinion, children are wiser than what adults believe and they learn to adjust themselves eventually with divorces. At least they'll be able to realise that love is complicated and sometimes if parents can't stay together it doesn't mean that they no longer love their children. (In this case, Mrs Doubtfire is more realistic and morally uplifting.)
The film also makes use of a play within a play, or to be more precise, a play within a film. This technique is called 'mise en abyme', a French phrase meaning 'placing into infinity', as it can signify that the whole event of love and the second chance happens all the time in the history of mankind. It happens again over and over, yet with different results, like the ending of the play in which the actress is waiting for her secret lover to arrive when the curtain falls. Sometimes someone does arrive and sometimes someone is stood up. In this light, art imitates life and its complexities.
When I come to think about it once again, doesn't life imitate art too? Don't we somehow will our lives to be like what happens in films and books? Sometimes a play within a film perhaps tells us that the whole film may just be an imitation of the play, especially its stylish yearning and fantasy. And then after watching this film, viewers start to wish to copy what's going on in the film, thinking that it's stylish and glamorous. Then we're in a vicious circle and can no longer separate between fiction and reality. Or perhaps their boundaries are not as clear-cut as we imagine they would be.
A feel-good comedy for everyone, Happy-Go-Lucky is just a perfect film for those who think they have a bad day. Poppy, the protagonist, is exactly what the film title says. She is just happy. But what is interesting in the film is that her happiness and positive attitude are constantly tested by everyday happenings. Her bike is stolen, some people stare at her, her driving instructor thinks she's stupid, and a shop assistant refuses to talk to her.
Somehow the film makes me realise that it's so hard to be happy in contemporary society. In order to survive in this 'liveless' society, people naturally put up barriers, as part of their self-defence mechanism and this mechanism in turn exacerbates the hellish condition of the city. Poppy, probably recognising this, refuses to act like other people. She just shines and people's reactions don't deter her from continuing to be simply nice and pleasant.
However, one can't ignore the fact that she's quite lucky. She's got good friends, especially Zoe, who can lend her a shoulder to cry on, a good relationships with friends at work, and a good boyfriend. Perhaps this is the bare necessities for one to be nice. If she's got no one to start with, one wonders whether Poppy will have this attitude. But of course one can't deny that with this happy-go-lucky attitude people are naturally attracted to her. I, for one, don't like her at the beginning of the film, finding her pretty annoying and loud, but towards the end I just can't help falling in love with her and just wish that the world should be populated by more people like her.
The scene where she refuses to let Scott, the driving instructor, drive his car (the role marvellously played by Eddie Marsan, shows that Poppy's positive attitude is not just mindless cheerfulness, but a carefully thought out one. She wills herself to be that way so that people around her can be more cheerful and nice to each other. But of course this can be easily misinterpreted, as Scott thinks that she tries to lure him through what he thinks is female guile. Another scene that is worth mentioning is her strange encounter with a homeless guy. With her response 'I know', one can't help but wonder how much she does know. But it is my personal belief that she actually knows what is going on.
Now, with all these reflections in mind, I just think that if there're real people who think like Poppy, I should like to applaud them. The reason is because these people know sorrow only too well and are very sensitive to what is going on in the world. They are, in other words, receptive to the evils that are happening in the world. It's likely that this kind of people will suffer from mental illnesses more than ordinary people. One of the mechanisms to prevent these illnesses is of course to sport a happy-go-lucky attitude. But soon enough realisation and depression will come in through back doors and they'll end up in hospital beds faster than 'normal' people who are so cold and indifferent.
Dear Kapi
I know you will find this letter one day. You must be grown up now and probably lead a happy life in a hi-so condo in Bangkok. I think you must now be grown up enough to stomach the whole reality. What you've just seen in the film in which I am both the co-director and the main financial supporter is just one side of the story. Of course I decided to make the film so that you can better learn about our special relationship. It's meant to be used in conjunction with the big cabinet full of drawers that I managed to categorise and catalogue my life for you. (Do I need to tell you that I'm a very neat person? My neatness is part of the OCD syndrome that I've long been suffering from. One of the symptoms is my need to make sure all drawers in that cabinet are full of rubbish that I want to give to you. Don't throw any of them away. Even though I have died, I'm still keeping my eyes on you.)
Kapi, I think I'd better come clean with you. The reason that I needed to leave you with Grandpa and Grandma that day is not because I needed to do what I had promised. I know you probably believe that the accident that day made me feel too guilty to raise you up and that I needed to do what I promised -- not to be near you or to touch you again because I was such a careless lady. No, even the dumbest person would probably find my reason weak and lame. Of course, I could've jumped into the water to help you, but because I was wearing Coco Chanel that day so I just couldn't. Also, because to be honest, I somehow wanted to get rid of you that day but you survived. You were too lucky, Kapi.
That day was very significant. I just talked to your father, Ant Thin Summin, a Burmese janitor with whom I fell in love whilst I was in Burma. Of course, my parents disagreed with our romance and said that I could've found a better person who were from the upper-middle class, not this low life whose salary was not even enough to support my lunch. Have I told you that I worked in the Burmese embassy as my father (yes, your grandpa) helped support the Junta in legal matters? I couldn't help but fall in love with Ant Thin Summin at first sight while he was cleaning the embassy toilet. I got pregnant soon after and you, Kapi, were the product of our class-free romance. However, Thin Summin later betrayed me. He found himself a British gay sugar daddy who promised to take him to the UK. He didn't hesitate to fly with that big fat old farang of course. I felt sad and suicidal. The accident that day was, I need to say, partly intentional. I just wanted to get rid of you Kapi. You just reminded me of my miserable relationship with that Burmese guy who was confused with his sexuality.
I couldn't kill you that day because Thong, the little twat, found out. With guilt, I just couldn't face you anymore. I decided to give you to Grandpa and Grandma and leave for the UK to look for Thin Summin. I found him and he changed his name to Anthony Summers. What a shameless guy! Of course he spurned me for the second time. I didn't have enough money to buy my flight back. Grandpa and Grandma were so furious that they didn't give me money anymore. I had no choice but to prostitute myself and found myself infected with HIV. That's when I thought I needed to fly home and spend the last days of my life with you Kapi. Also, I needed to make sure you would get what you should -- that hi-so condo and a holiday home in Hua Hin. These I bought with money I saved from my 'trip' to the UK. Don't tell anyone, Kapi, but the real world is not as clean as what you saw in the film. (Do you remember Pierre? He's one of my customers. I sent him to see you to check whether you're OK.)
By the way, Kapi, could you do me a favour? Can you promise me that you'll not show this film to other people, especially those with red shirts? They will surely not be happy with our hi-so lifestyle. Our misery is so light and pale in comparison with theirs. Here we're concerned only with whether you'll want to see your father or not, but there they're probably concerned with what to eat or where to sleep tomorrow. Do I need to tell you that not everyone have in an immaculate traditional Thai pavilion, a holiday home in Hua Hin, a duplex condo in the city centre, and a Grandma who can speak French? This film should be kept a secret between you and me ok?
I love you so much Kapi and I still remember the days when we were sleeping together in a little seaside bungalow with white curtains overseeing a white horse. The whole setting was so fashionable and seemed like it just came fresh out of a music video. Or was it a music video that I remember?
Au revoir,
Your Mom xx
Spoilers galore!
I watched Happy Birthday tonight at Paragon Cineplex simply due to some positive reviews on-line. The film was good even though I think it's a little bit too cliche and sentimental. Perhaps I've been watching too many weird films that I just can't tolerate simple films anymore.
The relationship between Then and Pao starts from their common interest -- travelling around Thailand. Then loves photography and Pao loves drawing -- what an idyllic starting point for love among the Thai middle-class. Middle-class viewers will probably enjoy the first half of the film as the couple drive around scenic routes in the North of Thailand (the area around Mae Hong Son I think). However, while their middle-class romance is blossoming, a car crash results in Pao suffering severe brain injuries, which reduces her to a condition of living like a vegetable. That means theoretically she's dead but technologically she's surviving through the aid of oxygen.
Because of his middle-class promise made to her that they'll take care of each other until they die, Then takes care of Pao, cleans her, changes her sanitary pads, and takes her out shopping. His care for her borders on the level of insanity. Despite the protests from her parents to 'let Pao go', Then holds on to what remains of his girlfriend dearly. He's broke paying loads to keep her 'alive' and loses his job due to lack of concentration. In other words, the director wants to make clear that he suffers a lot because of her as he wishes to cherish their promise. The director also wants to show how heroic he is in trying to maintain his loyalty especially in the contemporary social context of fast love and easy sex.
However, I can't help but thinking that Then is making a serious mistake, trying to hold onto Pao's body. Throughout the film, we see him change lotuses in front of a Buddha replica. But one wonders whether he really understands Buddhism, especially the concept of 'letting go'. Lord Buddha preaches against desire, especially that for material objects. In a sense, Then's wish to keep Pao's body is like a child guarding a toy that's broken. It's obvious that Pao already exists in Then's vivid imagination. I think it's perhaps much better if the film shows his true understanding of Buddhism, that Pao's existence is not just physical but mental. Pao's body is just an external shell, waiting to decompose. Pao's existence in Then's imagination should be much more revered.
Besides, the film should've further raised the mooted topic of euthanasia, especially from the point of the person who suffers. We only see the opinions of her boyfriend and her parents, but of course we don't learn much about Pao's attitude towards life and death in general. The treatment of her character in the first half of the film should've focused also on her opinion so that this would shed light on another perspective on the matter. She functions as a silent body or when we hear her speak it's mostly from her boyfriend's imagination.
If we treat this film as a piece of middle-class propaganda, think about the effect it will cast upon middle-class viewers, how the film will shape their middle-class conception of 'true love' and its connection with the physical. Perhaps it's something to do with our age of consumerism and materialism that we middle-class people need an actual object to confirm our idea of love. Pao's body is unfortunately and paradoxically used selfishly by Then to confirm his everlasting love to her. Wouldn't it be better if he just accepted her death and continued with his life without her body but with his memory of their time together? Pao would surely love to see him happy rather than slaving over her unconscious body and getting crazy in the process.
I just don't find Then's love for Pao heroic; it's just possessive, middle-class and rude.
Today I had chance to go to the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre to watch the exhibition Krungthep 226. Coincidentally, I just saw a sign that there would also be a play called Wi-Fi Project Version 2.0 by the Saosoong theatre group. I was incredibly lucky as it was their last performance and I probably couldn't find it restaged anywhere else soon.
