by Priscilia Tan

I went for a local film screening called But is the Book Better?: Utter 2014. It was a collection of four local film directors’ adaptations of four separate short stories. What really interested me apart from the fact that the films were adaptations was that the four films were of the four local languages respectively. The first thought I had was how was I supposed to enjoy the films of languages I did not understand. I was anxious to find out how the directors would ensure that their films were not exclusive to any specific group of audience. Yes, subtitles would have ensured that I understood the film, but it does not generally help me connect with it. However, I was pleasantly surprised that I really enjoyed all four films, including those that were not of my mother tongue (Malay and Tamil).

The film I am discussing in this post is Tin Kosong by director Sanif Olek. Basically, the story is about a tin-can collector’s discovery of the harsh reality of living in the city. The story shows how the protagonist struggles in city life with menial jobs and how circumstances keeps pushing him to realize how the fast-paced and economic driven city has no place and compassion for him. There was a two-way interview after the screening where audience could ask the producer and director questions about the films and vice versa. Unfortunately, director Sanif Olek was not present at the event. However, the producer managed to discuss a little about the film on behalf of the director. The producer mentioned that in the process of choosing the short story, they were looking from a selection of “literary pioneers in the Malay circle” and they found that Tin Kosong was “a mishmash of retro fun and a dash of introspection to where we are, what we have become and how we can go on from here”.

One specific feature that I really enjoyed of the film was the song sequence, which showed the character at specific tourist attractions of Singapore. That was really unexpected because when I read the short story before watching the film, in no way did I anticipate the possibility of inserting a song sequence at any part of the story. Yet, the director managed to do so beautifully in my opinion. During the interview, someone from the audience said that the song sequence helped give her a glimpse into the character’s consciousness. I find that I agree with her as through the song sequence, I managed to see what the character saw as an ideal city life. The director juxtaposed this idealization with a reality that is so far from the ideal. I felt that the director chose to use the song sequence to allow audience to relate to the fact that reality is often not how we “dream” it to be. More specifically, the juxtaposition brings us to the conclusion or realization that that the glory of economic development and progress of a city is actually not as glorious as it seems. Instead, reality is much harsher and superficiality does not necessarily equate happiness. In this sense, the song sequence works like sort of a Soviet montage, forcing the audience to work through the meaning of this unexpected sequence, where we draw connections between the images in the sequence and the rest of the film. I felt that the song sequence urges us to take notice of the difference between what is real and ideal. If the filmmaker followed the simple narration of the book, the juxtaposition would not have been as jarring and visual. By presenting the contrast that visually, we are forced to acknowledge and accept this discovery rather than just notice it in passing. In other words, this sequence allows us to more strongly sympathise with the character. Superficially, it seems like an attempt to ease the melancholic mood of the film but instead, it subtly pushes audience to relate to the character.

Personally, I enjoy films over written work as I react more easily towards visuals. I find it easier to understand and relate to a story when I see it visually playing out. That said, written stories leave more room for interpretation so in that sense it provides more freedom. Mostly in films, the filmmaker chooses to show to his audience his personal interpretation of the story. However, I found that I particularly enjoyed Sanif Olek’s interpretation of Tin Kosong and how he chose to present it. Also, there was another point in the film that was intriguing where instead of imposing his understanding of the story onto the audience, the director chose to use ambiguity. In the short story, the protagonist’s wife was an ambiguous one but there were hints that she was ill and thus homebound. In the film however, the director instead suggests that she is no longer alive with the screenshots of an empty house when the protagonist calls her on the phone, thereby suggesting that he is mentally ill when he carries on with a one-sided conversation. Yet, the director does not confirm this suspicion. This is another point that makes audience question what is reality through the protagonist. If his wife is really dead, his refusal to accept her death again reflects his confusion of reality.
Though the book does prompt me to think about issues like the lack of community spirit in Singapore, I feel that the film does a more compelling job in highlighting the extent of such issues through the protagonist’s consciousness. I find it interesting that this portrayal of the protagonist’s consciousness comes from how the filmmaker makes meaning out of the protagonist’s story through his own experience. Thus, in a sense the adaptation brings us through several layers of experiences (the writer, filmmaker and audience), thus making it that much more of a shared experience.