Remember: Singapore

If there is one thing that Singapore is renowned for, it would be the extremely rapid pace of development, and of course the notorious ban of chewing gum. The usual cliché of “reaching first world status in 4 decades” would need to be inserted here! Singapore is also associated with the countless global brands, symbolizing the modern progressive city that it has become.

Inevitably, things will have to go to make way for development. In the latest series of “things to go”, Bukit Brown Cemetery (one of Singapore’s oldest cemeteries, where many of the founding figures of Singapore’s history lie at rest) will have to be cleared for the construction of new roads. Make way for the living they say…


Amidst all this development, we see a rising counterculture movement amongst Singapore’s Generation Y: Nostalgia. To be sure, they are not rejecting modernization and development, but rather they are also embracing the past and breathing new life into what was “history”. This is a global trend – the revival of Lomography and Polaroid, vintage shops etc. We see brands taking advantage of this trend: like creating smartphone apps that allow one to take digital photo but with the look of yesteryear, and allowing them to be printed as if they were old photographs – almost as a statement against the extinction of the analog format.


In Singapore, we see a very country-specific manifestation of this global trend. Nostalgia seems to be popping up everywhere! Singaporean youths hang out along gentrified century-old streets and shop-houses: Craig Road, Haji Lane, Duxton Road, Arab Street, Club Street, where stores that sell vintage items are the place to be. In the “arty-farty” shops that attract these Gen Y hipsters, we see merchandises from yesteryear being sold: toys that children used to play with growing up in the 70s and 80s, designs from the iconic “Good Morning Towel” (below) reused on things like mittens, pencil cases and more.

As part of the latest café frenzy there is at least one new “indie” café opening up every other month, and we see Singapore’s cool-hunters heading to cafes that serve up food and coffee in retro tableware, and are decorated with bits and pieces of Singapore history.

Any counterculture expresses the ethos, aspirations and dreams of a population and perhaps the nostalgic counterculture that we are seeing from the Gen Y is telling us that we should not forget our past as we move forward, and that maybe not everything should give way to development. This is aptly captured in the film by renowned Singaporean filmmaker Royston Tan. In Old Places he reminisces, allowing us to still catch a glimpse of ‘yesterday’s places’ while they still exist, and before they are relegated to memory.


This counterculture trend is putting its foot firmly amongst the Gen Ys and is not likely to be a passing fad either. As the world gets increasingly urbanized, and as more things get lost in history, faster, this counterculture trend will only get stronger. Are you ready to embrace nostalgia for your brand?

GF*BF (女朋友。男朋友) - a movie review

Just last weekend, I watched a Taiwanese movie called Gf*Bf, which stands for Girlfriend * Boyfriend, a literal translation of the original Chinese title. Spoilers are ahead of course, but first, a trailer of the movie!

Trailer of Gf*Bf

The movie spans across a few decades and follows 3 teenagers as they grow through different phases in life - from high school to college to adulthood and finally as middle age adults. It is part coming of age story, part social commentary on homosexual and heterosexual relationship, and above all, a disquieting observation on the realities of life.

The movie starts during the tumultuous martial law period in 1980s Taiwan. Set against this period are 3 teenagers caught in an awkward love triangle - Aaron loves Mabel, but she only has eyes for Liam, who is secretly in love with Aaron. This movie might come across quite similar to "Eternal Summer" and "You're the Apple of My Eye" but do not be fooled. This movie is much richer, subtler and more delicate. Weaving through the painful love story is a very caustic observation on life and society. In the beginning, we see Aaron as the rebellious teen who believes that "if one person dances, it is called rebellion, but if the whole school dance, it is the student's will". He certainly lives by this motto through college and becomes part of student activist team that demands Taiwan become a fully functioning democracy. But for all Aaron is, he eventually becomes the cheating husband of a rich woman and a lackey to his rich and politically connected father-in-law. The feisty Mabel, who holds her own ground and confronts a shower full of naked high-school boys becomes the mistress of Aaron, because she can't find fulfilment in Liam. And Liam, who is the quiet, shy and repressed teenager eventually dates a married father.

From left to right: Liam, Mabel, Aaron

It is as if life played a cruel joke on all three of them. But at the same time, this is not something too far fetched. As we all grow, we know people who become slaves to the life they chose to lead, and yet we root for them, as we are rooting for the characters to do something else with their lives. We know that they can choose a different path in life, but they don't. There's almost a sense of helplessness as they become driftwood floating along the sea of life. This sense of helplessness is very delicately brought across by Yang (director of the film). There are many things left unsaid, so much so that even the scenes are deliberately kept vague - you need to watch on to understand what an earlier scene meant. A metaphor for life perhaps - that one will only understand today with the hindsight of tomorrow.

This film is also a strong social commentary on homosexual relationships. While Taiwan is fast becoming a gay bastion in Asia, there are still many laws that prevent homosexual couples from forming families - there are no provisions for same-sex marriages nor homosexual adoptions. The question one asks here is why? Is there an assumption that heterosexual relationship is the right relationship which has a happy ending? Clearly, in "Gf*Bf" there is no such happy ending. Almost every heterosexual relationship depicted is broken in some way. Mabel's mother is a stage dancer who does not acknowledge her daughter and runs away to another city. Aaron is in a loveless marriage and is having an affair with Mabel. Liam dates a guy who is married and even has a son, but continues the relationship with Liam anyway. Set against the social revolution in the 80s and 90s Taiwan, the lack of progress of homosexual rights seems even more ironic. If the people can muster up the will to demand a fully functioning democracy for Taiwan, why can't the people do the same for homosexual rights? Yang seems to lead us down this line of questioning with the wedding of the the flamboyant Sean. But a wedding it is not, rather it is a loud and lewd foam party with taut male torso. Is this what the Taiwanese homosexual community is destined to be - a faceless, superficial community who will "drop all grievances to attend a party"?

At the end of the day, Aaron, Mabel and Liam yearn to love and be loved - all their pains come from trying to love. The awkward love triangle has no apparent resolution until the viewer realizes that Liam in 2012 is the father (and guardian) of the love-children of Mabel (who passes on) and Aaron (who did not want to give up his current life for Mabel). It's an extremely bittersweet conclusion to the love triangle - a cruel joke almost. Yet in a way, everything is "resolved" in this unconventional family.

Yang, in his directorial statement said that this movie is about love and family, and that he wants the audience to know that "no matter what shape [family] takes on, no matter gay or straight, the main thing to understand is where there is love, there is family." And this unconventional family is, strangely the result of love.

Go watch it, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Book Review: Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death and Hope in a Mumbai Slum

Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death and Hope in a Mumbai Slum. Katherine Boo by Katherine Boo
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Reviewing this book is not something that came easily to me, because this book is somewhat different from what I had expected. Picking up a book on India almost means that one will either be reading about the rags to riches stories, detailed emotional stories of the underclass, or some other stories that will arouse strong emotions in the reader. Not this book.

What is beautiful about this book is that it does not milk you for your sympathy, it does not wrench your heart, nor make you cry and weep over the lives of the 'residents' of Annuwadi. Instead it presents to the reader a novel of the every day lives of the undercity dwellers - the "life, death and hope" of them as individuals, and as a loose community who lived together not because they chose to. And so rather than crying your heart out about the tragic lives that they lead, we finish the book gaining new perspective and new understanding.

We feel like we have learned about the stories and the lives of the many different individuals in the book, and about Annuwadi. We feel like we might have more than an inkling of what every day is like for the residents there. We feel like we might have known the inner workings of the bureaucracy surrounding the fast developing Mumbai. Katherine manages to achieve this because she did not write a novel about one protagonist and the happenings around his/her life, instead she wrote about the many people of Annuwadi. She gave voices to different individuals - to Abdul, the garbage sorter who keeps the family business running because he’s really good at his job; to Manju, the college going daughter of the female slumlord Asha; to Sunhil, a scavenger who has to keep going to keep him and his sister alive, and many others.

And not once did Katherine allow herself to come into character, not once did she hint at any form of sympathy towards them, because the dwellers are not the poor and pathetic Indian caricatures that readers may have in their mind. So while we read about the corruption that happened to the Annuwadians time and again, the injustice that befalls them, the terrible living conditions they face, we come to realize that this is par for the course for the Annuwadians.

When we realize this, I suppose the bigger emotion is the hope that each individual Annuwadian have for tomorrow. That despite all of that, they carry on, hour by hour, day by day, week by week. And this “hope”, is seldom the stereotypical big hopes and dreams that we are used to, mostly it is a hope for something more immediate – putting food on the table, being able to give lessons to the children, making sure that the child is safe from danger.

Yes the book might not satisfy in the way we expect –it lacks the emotional arc that we might have become used to. Yes the book does indeed portray the world outside Annuwadi as somewhat of a ‘dark evil capitalist’ world. But this book is really not about those things. It is not about pitting the Annuwadians against the rising modern Mumbai, but instead it is a stunning portrait of the lives of the people living behind the wall filled with the advertising for “Beautiful Forevers” - a somewhat poignant dividing wall of modern Mumbai airport, and the modern Mumbai slums.


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