"My people speak disapprovingly of an outsider whose wailing drowned the grief of the owners of the corpse. One last word to the owners. It is because our own critics have been somewhat hesitant in taking control of our literary criticism (sometimes - let’s face it - for the good reason that we will not do the hard work that should equip us) that the task has fallen to others, some of whom (again we must admit) have been excellent and sensitive. And yet most of what remains to be done can best be tackled by ourselves, the owners. If we fall back, can we complain that others are rushing forward? A man who does not lick his lips, can he blame the harmattan for drying them?"

- Chinua Achebe, from the paper Colonialist Criticism

[This issue is dedicated to Philip Cheah and the Singapore International Film Festival]

11.15.06
For what purpose does a film journal exist today? Is it necessary? What function should it serve?

These questions, seemingly simple but with answers that are fiercely debatable, are ones that I began to think about after listening to the podcast called "Tracking Film Cultures" from a recent CD-ROM issue of Vertigo. The podcast, a dialogue between Cahiers Du Cinema editor Jean-Michel Frodon and the editors of UK-Based film magazine Vertigo, spoke mostly in reference to print-film journals, but I believe many of the points addressed are relevant for online publications as well. Jean-Michel made a strong point, and one that I agreed with, standing firm that the critical journal:

.. is now more necessary than ever, because everything is more accessible than ever, which means that everyone is left... is not alone, but is left facing all the opportunities, and we know that none of us is alone, there is someone very close to our ear, and that someone is called 'the market'. The market is whispering in everybody's ear what [they] should see, and we know that the more things are accessible, the more everybody is tempted to see the same thing. And then facing that there are different structures, not only magazines but obviously magazines, to propose, to build the access to desire to other things than what the market is telling you to see at this very moment, which is showing in all multiplexes at the same time...

I do believe that with other bodies, including film festivals [and] including teachers, there is more work for us to do now than ever to build this alternative relationship with cinema.

And the other thing which has to be done, I think, which Cahiers is trying to do and I see Vertigo is also trying to do, is to use cinema to understand the world we live in.

How does one go about facing this challenge, of building this alternative relationship to cinema? First by covering and writing about it (this issue includes new reviews of Amir Muhammad's The Last Communist, Azharr Rudin's The Amber Sexalogy, Dennis Marasigan's Sa North Diversion Road, a feature on Uruphong Raksasad and a reflection on recent highlights from a foreign SEA cinema chronicler), and then trying to make it come alive (with engaging pieces on older films that deserve an audience wider than the ones they have gotten, like Apichatpong's Tropical Malady- which has never shown in the Philippines- and Mysterious Object at Noon, Lino Brocka's Bona, and the cinema of Thai experimental filmmaker Sasithorn Ariyavicha), but also to look at what is happening critically (as is done in the review of the film Singapore Dreaming and the newly pressed book Singapore Cinema, and a piece that looks critically on the current cinematic resurgence in the Philippines).

Criticine is proud to announce a new partnership with the Thai language film journal Bioscope (http://www.bioscopemagazine.com), a wonderful journal whose activities and reach extend beyond the written page into the organization of screenings, contest organizing, book publishing, DVD producing, and film commissioning. Criticine will be translating into English selected Bioscope articles on Thai cinema, and Bioscope in turn will have permission to translate selected Criticine articles into Thai for their publication. An exciting exchange, and I feel an important one, that is directly in the spirit of the vision we have for Criticine.

With the release of this fourth issue this November 2006, Criticine celebrates its first birthday. We'd like to thank all of our contributors for their challenging ideas, our copy-editor and translators for their gracious service, and our readers for making it all worthwhile. We hope we've helped you understand the world we live in just a little bit better, and look forward doing so more in the future.

Alexis A. Tioseco
Editor, Criticine

[This issue is dedicated to Leonardo Lilles Tioseco.]

05.16.06
Representation is a huge issue in Southeast Asia, and while it encompasses cultural diversity, it certainly isn’t limited to it.

What guides our lines of sight? The politics that decide what we see, and the obstacles that block us from seeing more.

What gets represented? The honesty (or dishonesty) in the images we do see, and the sins of omission.

How to make visible corners that are blind? The dual challenge of re-shaping perspectives through works that matter, and seeking an audience for them.

Criticine 3 tackles a few of these issues.

The reviews section features three pieces you won't find in other places: Noel Vera is given space to continue his chronicling of the oeuvre of Filipino auteur Mario O'Hara, with his review of the forgotten classic Uhaw Na Pag Ibig. Short filmmakers never get any attention! Hassan Muthalib introduces you to the kinetic energy of the work of Aaron Chung, one of Malaysia's up and coming cinema artists. Khoo Gaik Cheng addresses some topics programmers and critics have brought up with regard to Ho Yuhang's 2004 Min, but never elaborate on.

Thailand is a country that has been severely underrepresented in this journal, and there's a reason for that. Thailand has never been colonized; a fact they are quite proud of. Perhaps because of this, they are far less bi-lingual than most other major SEA filmmaking countries (Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Philippines, Vietnam), and therefore a large part of good writing about Thai cinema by Thai authors appears only in Thai language. Meaning: we are deprived of insight into Thai cinema from a local perspective. We are taking steps to correct this, one article at a time. For this issue, we have fresh translations of a trio of interviews by Thai filmmaker Thunska Pansittivorakul with leading figures in contemporary Thai cinema: the brilliant director Apichatpong Weerasetheakul, critic and translator Kong Rithdee, and Suparp Rimtheparthip and Thida Plitpholkarnpim, editors of the Thai-language film magazine Bioscope.

While news broadcasts and political leaders continue to throw around the word "terrorism" with reckless abandon, constructing images of fear about the other>, Philip Cheah reminds us of a different kind of horror: state-led terrorism. We reprint two articles produced for the catalogue of Spaces and Shadows, a two-month programme on contemporary Southeast Asian Art culture held at the House of World Cultures in Berlin. The first is Cheah's introduction to Whose Terror is it Anyway? the programme he curated, the second Shaheen Merali's interview with him about it.

The topic of terrorism comes up again in the work of Filipino filmmaker John Torres, but in a completely different context. Where Cheah talked about state-led terrorism, Torres brings it to a much more intimate level: terrorism of the heart. In my interview with him, Torres opens up about the making of his first feature, Todo Todo Teros, and about the pain we inflict on the ones we love.

In another personal piece, Maguindanaon filmmaker Teng Mangansakan recounts how he fell into and for cinema, his first forays into filmmaking, and the challenge of re-shaping a Moro image that has been grossly misrepresented by popular media.

For the final journal entry of his residency in Cannes Cinefondation before returning to Manila, Raya Martin sends us a series of diary entries, scattered but no less engaging, touching on a number of topics, including how he was received in France.

Tan Pin Pin's Singapore GaGa, a brilliant 55-minute sketch of a Singapore often ignored, has audiences paying attention. Special films require special methods of distribution; Pin Pin generously outlines hers. Tracking the journey of GaGa across Singapore, her piece serves as a testament to the resolve and fortitude independent filmmakers need to adopt in order to ensure their works get seen. Your work isn't done when the final dub is finished.

Alexis A. Tioseco
Editor, Criticine

02.09.06
It's been an exhausting past few months. I apologize for the delay in putting this issue out, but it is with great pleasure that I introduce it to you.

A hot-topic of late has been Martyn See's Singapore Rebel, a documentary on Dr. Chee Soon Juan, Singapore's Democratic Party leader. Banned in Singapore, the film's mere existence appears to outweigh its actual content. It's director See has become somewhat of a cause celeb because of the film, challenging the Singapore censors. He has recently completed another film that is sure to stir up talk-- Zahari's 17 Years, about left-wing journalist Said Zahari, who was arrested in 1963 and imprisoned for 17 years for allegedly being a communist. In this issue Vinita Ramani examines the Singapore government's reaction to Singapore Rebel and their implications, while examining the content of the film itself-- something that most commentators have neglected to do

Short films have played a vital role in the development of Southeast Asian Cinema in recent years, but unless you hound filmmakers themselves for copies (I've had to do this on many occasion) or catch a rare public screening, chances are, you won't get to see them. This is something the Asian Film Archive is trying to change. Ben Slater examines the contents of their recently released Singapore Shorts Collection.

Still in Singapore, Khoo Gaik Cheng samples Be With Me, the new film from director Eric Khoo after an 8 year absence, which opened the 2005 Cannes Director's Fortnight.

The buzz in Malaysia in 2005 was Yasmin Ahmad's Sepet ("Slanted Eyes"). Reaping awards abroad and box office success at home; it is a film many in Malaysia consider to be an important breakthrough work. Little discussed, however, is Yasmin's previous work, Rabun ("My Failing Eyesight"), a made-for-television movie that some, Malaysian filmmaker Amir Muhammad included, claim is better than Sepet. Hassan Muthalib offers a review.

Indonesian cinema has counted a strong year in terms of numbers, but have the works fulfilled their promise? Tag-team Paul Agusta and Lisabona Rahman give a month-by-month blow of the past twelve months in Indonesian cinema.

On the Philippine front, Noel Vera guest programmed a selection of Filipino films for the Rotterdam International Film Festival. He sends in a piece on his experience presenting the works, and the reactions of some prominent critics to it, ending on a moving personal note. In a review of Vera's Critic After Dark, the book that launched the idea for the program in Rotterdam, I appraise the unique position he occupies as a critic in the Philippines.

Raya Martin's journal was a popular piece from the first issue. Also writing from abroad, he checks in with his second journal entry as part of the Résidence du Festival de Cannes. Sit with the old and young: my extensive interviews with the sage, Lav Diaz and the upstart, Ato Bautista are also up for reading.

Lastly, but certainly not least, Benjamin McKay thinks out loud: "Are there indeed possibilities for new ways of writing about Southeast Asian cinema?” Read the article to understand why he's asking. And then write us to let you know what you think.

Until the next issue...

Alexis A. Tioseco
Editor, Criticine

10.23.05
One beautiful thing about the world of cinema today is that the borders that separate us are becoming thinner and thinner. As the speed and ways by which we communicate become faster and more sophisticated, so too does the transmission of culture— of images and sounds, news and art.

Our understanding of Asian Cinema is slowly expanding past Kurosawa and Ozu, Wuxia and Yimou, and beginning to encompass many of the smaller countries and cultures in the territory. But with this new-found interest comes new-found questions and new-found responsibility.

In his timely and poignant essay We Come From Afar and We Will Go Further written for the summer 2005 issue of the Slovenian journal Ekran (edited by Jurij Meden and featuring an inspired collection of articles on World Cinephilia, and the first wide and detailed analysis of Filipino director Lav Diaz’s work), German critic Olaf Möller raises several important questions, one among them dealing with the topic of film writing. Taking to task the Jonathan Rosenbaum and Adrian Martin edited Movie Mutations, Möller questions the book’s theme, scope, authors, and choice for authors on subjects. How important is it for writers and critics to share in defining what works from their country are deemed of importance, and enter the global canon? As the world-at-large becomes more affluent with cinema from smaller pockets of the globe, the question then looms— who do we read?

While writing of western critics on eastern cinema is no doubt invaluable, to allow it to be in a monologue with itself in the dominant discourse is dangerous. It is necessary that the written word of writers native to a country’s cinema reach the world at large, for their insights— that can only be gleaned from one that lives and breathes the history, culture, and air of the work’s origin— is important. Cinema must be dialogue. Through dialogue, we will have so much more to learn.

Criticine is our contribution to this discourse.

Started through the kind assistance of Khristine Consunji, Criticine is a bi-monthly online publication that will focus on Southeast Asian cinema in all its forms (short, long, narrative, documentary, experimental), examining the present while looking at the past, with writers from within or specializing in the region.

But Criticine is not only for the western world.

Every September for the past 5 years, The Substation, an independent arts space in Singapore, has been playing host to an intimate event called the Asian Film Symposium. One key element of this event is S-Express: specially commissioned sixty to ninety minute curated programmes of recent short films from countries in the Asian region. These programmes are prefaced combined with themed talks by the curator dealing with the current state of independent cinema in their country, and followed by a Q&A session with the curator and one of the filmmakers with a film in the programme. When S-Express first began in 2001 there were three participating countries— Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand, before it expanded to include Indonesia in 2004, and China and the Philippines in 2005.

I had the pleasure of curating the initial S-Express Philippines programme, and in the process of doing so, wondered to myself why it was only now, in the 5th year of the event, that the Philippines was involved. Why hadn’t we taken part in it before? The answer soon became clear—communication. We weren’t in dialogue with our brothers and sisters in the region, and knew very little about them; just as they knew little about us. While putting together the programme I took this idea a step further, acknowledging that, in a Philippine context, we weren’t communicating with ourselves—weren’t in dialogue with our own country beyond our urban Manila shells.

The revelation was eye-opening for me, and one that led to the discovery of burgeoning cinemas and filmmakers in various parts of the Philippines. From the Crystal Piaya Awards held annually in Bacolod, the politically-minded ST Exposure movement in Southern Tagalog, Sinebuano and Cebu Filmmakers Society in Cebu, and the inspiring Guerilla Filmmaking workshops being held by 25-year olds in Davao, one could clearly see: the country was rich with filmmaking activity and spirit in all its regions; but sorely deprived in support and exposure for these happenings

We have much, not only to share with the outside world, but also to learn about ourselves.

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This first issue of Criticine features a healthy dose of reading. Malaysian cinema is bursting with energy, and in this initial offering there are several articles that look at its current situation from different sides. Inspired by two recent events and two particular films, Singapore-based journalist and critic Vinita Ramani looks to the past and examines the ever-important notion of plural identities in Malaysian cinema. With knowledge and perspective only gleaned with age, Hassan Muthalib narrates to us the five voices that have defined it, while also proffering up reviews of significant recent works; Ho Yuhang’s Sanctuary and Deepak Kumaran Menon’s Chemman Chaalai. Two films that, as cultural critic Khoo Gaik Cheng reveals in her essay, are breaking down barriers, but sadly, because of the dialect spoken in them, aren’t even considered Malaysian in Malaysia. Riri Riza’s Gie, a biopic about 1960’s political activist Soe Hok Gie, has been the topic of keen interest in Indonesian cinema in 2005, and critics Paul Agusta and Lisabona Rahman watch the film a second time, and share their critical conversation on its merits and demerits, and weaknesses in comparison to a curious propaganda film from the 80’s. Critic Noel Vera reviews Filipino director Mario O’Hara’s lost masterpiece Bakit Bughaw ang Langit?, prefacing the article with a note that will leave you in tears. Using the Philippines as an example, former University of the Philippines Film Institute Director and current visiting professor at the NUS in Singapore, Rolando (or Roland is he is wont to be called) Tolentino takes a critical approach to current happenings in the cinemas of Asia.

Turning our attention to specific directors, from Paris we receive the first journal entry of precocious 21-year old Filipino filmmaker Raya Martin, one among six young directors chosen for the prestigious Résidence du Festival de Cannes. On the interview front, are question and answer sessions with two of the most interesting and challenging figures in Southeast Asian cinema today. Australian scholar Benjamin McKay, who is in the midst of completing a pioneering study on early Malay cinema, speaks to one of those filmmakers stirring things up in Malaysia, the ever-witty yet no-less intelligent Amir Muhammad. And while both in Singapore; I have an extensive chat with the truly international Bangkok-based Pen-Ek Ratanaruang.

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We know we have yet a ways to go: expanding coverage (we don’t want the certain country pages to remain bare for long) and translating texts (to different SEA languages for those not fluent in English) are two projects for the future; but we have taken the first step, and we hope that you walk along the path with us.

Alexis A. Tioseco
Editor, Criticine