Going behind the scenes

More photos from behind the scenes of my short film, Beatnik Sweetheart.

Well, it’s not technically my short film lah. I’m just the actress! ;)

After receiving my scary ah lian makeup from the makeup artist, I had to stand around with the rest of the crew to wait for the pub owner to open his pub.

Remember I had mentioned that we had to postpone this scene once because the owner couldn’t wake up on time to open his shop for us?

This second time, he overslept again and we ended up waiting about two hours for him.

But he let us mess up his pub for free, so we couldn’t really complain.

The pub is nice. It’s got disembodied heads floating around.

I’m talking about the “head” on the right. Not Shu An, who is an actress.

See? Shu An is a happy actress.

So am I, as a matter of fact.

The scene at the pub was relatively uneventful. It basically involved take after take of drinking fake Chivas (that is, green tea), being rowdy and pretending to enjoy ourselves.

Our next scenes were shot at the DOP’s home.

One of the first things done was getting this poster ironed.

Yes, it is what it looks like.

This poster was to be used as a prop for one of the bedroom walls. Because it was all curled from being rolled up, it had to be ironed to straighten it out.

I had two bed scenes that day.

But I can’t go into detail because if I do, my director will kill me for giving spoilers.

Let’s just say that the process of making out for the camera is never as enjoyable as it looks onscreen.

Here’s my bedroom:

It’s so cosy! I really think I ought to employ art directors to decorate my room. All my bedrooms never look like this.

Final location for the night was at this quaint cafe called Food #03

While the crew set up…

…the actor slept.

But actresses don’t have the luxury to sleep. They have to continously have their makeup touched up.

The other actress (me) was, of course, busy taking photographs in the background.

But I did manage to get a photo of the three of us (actors) together. It’s a bit hard because there’s always one of us busy at any given time. Doing makeup, changing clothes, going through rehearsal, sleeping, being filmed, etc.

And, finally, here’s the director and DOP, with the producer hiding behind them:

Crew people are usually very camera shy, so you have to secretly take photos of them, sometimes.

I’m not saying these particular guys are. I’m just saying in general.

There was once last year, I got scolded by a crew member for taking photographs of the crew working.

It’s tough being a struggling actress-blogger!

Quite a disastrous shoot if ever there was one

So, I’m going to be brutal today and unglam the glam.

Not that I’m saying my films are very glam, but some people do have that idea, occasionally.

I’m taking you behind the scenes of a short film called Beatnik Sweetheart, which chronicles the dysfunctional relationship between three friends in an uncaring world.

The wardrobe, makeup and art people went all out to make us look impossibly good and I think they did a great job.

But beyond the painted faces and pretty sets, a multitude of unglam hiccups plagued the production on Day 1.

The first scene took place at the abandoned police headquarters at Eu Tong Sen Street.

The location also just happened to be home to an army of invisible bloodthirsty mosquitoes. You won’t even know of their existence until itchy welts mysteriously appear on your skin, just minutes after you arrive on the scene.

I started scratching subconsciously.

“Why my arm so itchy?” I mused aloud.

The art director suddenly yelled, “No, no, no! Don’t scratch!”

He stared in alarm at the mounting redness on my arm. Then he leapt away and came back ferociously wielding a spray can.

Liberally doused in a thick layer of insect repellent, I tried to ignore the itch while the makeup artist gunked up my face.

Then it was up to the rooftop.

We had to walk up five very long flights of steps, followed by this long, intimidating ladder.

The landing was cramped and scary, with that gaping hole in the middle.

But what a beautiful rooftop it was outside. I mean the view was beautiful.

The crew spent some time setting up the lights and cameras and mic-ing the actors. And then we were ready to roll.

That was when it started to rain.

Suddenly. Heavily.

You can’t really see from the picture, but the director was standing in the open, getting rained on, while we took shelter in the crammed little landing area.

I’ll bet you saw that camwhoring photo coming, savvy blog reader.

When the rain finally let up, about half an hour later, we had to sit on a picnic mat for blocking and rehearsal purposes as we waited for the ground to dry up a little for the take.

In the film, we’re all cool youngsters and cool youngsters don’t use picnic mats.

What we had were beer and cigarettes.

I was stressed because I had practised smoking (minimally) only three days before this shoot and still felt awkward holding a cigarette.

But I managed to smoke without coughing while the tape was rolling, so I think that counted for something. Nobody complained about my smoking skills.

The only complaint I received was from the camera assistant, who decided to speak out after seeing me throw out five half-smoked cigarettes with each take.

“Can you don’t throw away?” he said, eyeing the dumped cigarettes heart-brokenly. “Just pass to one of us to finish it.”

“But it’s got my lipstick all over it,” I said. “And it’s Virginia Slim VERY LIGHT.”

“A cigarette is still a cigarette,” said he.

Couldn’t argue with that.

A beer, though, is sometimes not a beer.

My poor Corona was topped up with chrysanthemum tea after each take, until it became more tea than beer.

An hour later, I started feeling severe gastric pains.

I realised belatedly that I should have taken breakfast. Beer and tea are a recipe for disaster for my weak stomach.

I went to the producer and made an apologetic request. “Sorry, can you please get someone to grab my gastric pills from downstairs?”

“Shit.” she said.

She went down herself. And I felt really bad because that meant five long flights of stairs and one long rickety ladder, times two.

We finished the scene a few hours later and ate packet lunches right here, sitting on the ledges:

My gastric pains went away.

Next location was Changi Airport for one very short scene.

It went relatively smoothly, except that the airport was too empty at the time for the director’s liking.

“It wasn’t this empty when I last came to recce!” he proclaimed.

But it eventually filled up, somewhat, and we got our shot after endless takes.

Here’s me taking a photo of the DOP framing me for the shot.

I love doing that.

Close-up of the picture feed from the video camera:.

By the time this very short scene was done, it was almost 5 pm. We had only completed two scenes (since 7:30 am). We had two more scenes scheduled to go.

But then the director said, “It’s a wrap!”

“Huh?” we all went.

It turned out that we couldn’t do the next two scenes because:

  1. The owner of the first location (a pub) had overslept and told us to postpone our shoot to the next day.
  2. The owner of the second location (a boutique) changed her mind and decided not to let us to shoot there.

So, I was about to change out of my costume when the director suddenly made a new announcement.

“Hey, let’s shoot the tunnel scene tonight, instead.”

The tunnel in question is the new expressway tunnel next to Fort Canning Park.

The plan now was to go back to our “base” (the DOP’s apartment) to rehearse our hot lesbian action scene (yes), have dinner there, wait till about 9 pm when there will be fewer cars on the road, then travel to the tunnel.

My gastric pains came back.

Worse, I was getting the worst backache I’ve ever experienced.

I could hardly sit still in the car as we travelled back to the apartment. My front and back were both killing me.

I had run out of antacids and had to wait till we reached the apartment. From there, I walked out myself to the nearest supermarket to get more antacids.

Our costumes for the tunnel scene:

I didn’t realise that I was wearing the wrong shoes for this photo until I got home and saw the photo.

I was supposed to be wearing black pumps for this outfit but because they hurt my feet, I went around in my canvas shoes outside of takes.

Another picture with the wrong shoes:

Our rehearsal at the apartment took longer than planned, so by the time we left the apartment, it was almost 10 pm.

On the sidewalk opposite the tunnel, waiting for the crew to arrive:

With our co-actor:

Our actor was a little weird. We made him sit on the ground to pose for photos with us, but he didn’t like it very much, mumbling something about the ground being dirty or having ants or something.

He sat down just enough to snap one photo and then sprang up again, visibly distraught.

We made faces at him and then continued camwhoring.

Shortly after, the crew arrived and it was off to the tunnel.

It was quite exciting in there. Kind of scary, kind of grungy, kind of crazy.

We took 10 minutes to plan and prepare the shot, then we went for a take.

Right after the first take (which turned out to be no good), we heard sirens.

“Weee-ooo-eee-ooo-EEE-OOO-gonna-get-joooooo!”

Along came an LTA marshall, beckoning us to go to him at the opening of the tunnel.

Our spirits dampened, we trudged wearily back to where we started.

Had our particulars taken down, had a bit of a lecture about trespassing, and then we were let off with a warning that we might all be receiving fines in the mail in two weeks.

It had been a long day. 15 hours, to be precise. Six hours overrun.

Inexplicably, though, I enjoyed the shoot, enjoyed the cast and crew and looked forward to the next day.

To be continued.

Anti-smoking actress picks up smoking

Yesterday was the most ironic day of my life.

I performed an anti-smoking skit at a health fair at Suntec Convention Centre.

On the same day, I picked up smoking.

Both occurences aren’t related, are isolated, therefore ironic.

Well, don’t yell at me just yet. At least finish reading this post, then vote for me, then yell if you must.

I’ve performed the anti-smoking skit, commissioned by the Health Promotion Board, about seven times since last year.

The past performances were for the civil sector (army camps and airbases) while yesterday was to the mass public (health fair).

As for picking up smoking, I’ve got a short film which starts production on Tuesday. I play a jaded ah lian and am required to smoke in a few scenes.

After two disastrous attempts in the past to play a convincing smoker, I’ve decided it’s time to do it right.

I don’t want to get addicted, so I scheduled myself only three days of practice with a real cigarette before filming starts.

I don’t think it’ll be enough to make me look like a seasoned smoker, but at least (I hope) I won’t look like a complete non-smoker.

I think it’s an acceptable compromise.

So it just happened that I started smoking practice on the same day I had to perform the anti-smoking skit.

I’m sorry for this show of duplicity, but it’s all part of the job, after all.

I got a pack of Virginia Slims because I’m told that it’s the mildest available. No photos because I don’t want to advocate or glamorise smoking, you understand.

I smoked two sticks today (hours apart, of course).

I hate it. It doesn’t feel good. It tastes horrible. And it leaves a disgusting aftertaste which lingers for hours, even after I brush my teeth (and tongue) and eat a packet of chocolate popcorn and drink a can of Kickapoo.

But I enjoyed the process of learning how to light a cigarette, how to hold it, how to inhale and exhale, how to look like I’ve been smoking for ages.

I always enjoy learning and experiencing new things, challenging myself to excel in everything I do. That’s something I can’t change about myself. And that is why I must eventually pick up smoking, in order to do my job better.

After today’s experience, though, I totally do not want to be a smoker. It’s horrible, stupid, counter-productive, expensive, life-threatening, smelly, inconvenient, not fun at all.

And I really hate holding an object that bears a disgusting photo of some decaying body part. It’s disturbing. I cringe every time I catch a glimpse of cigarette packs.

I have another performance at the health fair today, after which I will practice on two more sticks. Narcolepsy made drives to the pharmacy a dangerous task because I can fall asleep any minute without even noticing it. The way out I have found for myself is ordering medicines on https://wilmetteinstitute.org/modafinil-online/. Here I can buy Modafinil and other drugs I need without a risk of getting into a car accident. It’s nice to have such an alternative to regular pharmacies.

But, yes, I’m going to stop smoking after filming ends.

I hope the nicotine doesn’t get me by then.

Here’s the video

I deliberated for a few weeks whether to post this up.

I finally decided to do it because I’m so busy these days that I need to employ more lazy blogger tricks.

Today’s lazy post is a YouTube video. Haha.

I didn’t want to post it up at first because there are some physically-intimate shots in it involving me and it’s weird posting something like that knowing that family and relatives read my blog.

But, what the heck. I’m sure they can handle it. It’s nothing sleazy, anyway.

A quick background first.

This is one of the films I did for NYU Tisch Asia graduate film students last year. It was their very first project and shot on Super 16 mm film.

(If you were reading my blog three months ago, you’d have seen my posts about it: Flat 7-Up doesn’t taste very good and Last day is for camwhoring.)

The requirements of the project: 4 minutes, black-and-white, no dialogue, no music.

The video you’re about to watch is the director’s cut. It’s in colour and has some musicky stuff in it, but it’s otherwise the same film that was submitted.

It’s called Mara’s Playground and I play the role of Mara.

So, here it is! Hope you like understand it.

Making kissing sounds alone

I have officially gone into Hysterics Mode because I feel totally unprepared for my performance on Friday and I have 1,360 words to memorise by then.

So, here’s a quick and dirty post before I go back and bury myself into my script (which has been totally rewritten by my mentor-director, which raises the performance difficulty bar of the piece by 3,000%).

Anyway, I went to NYU Tisch Asia yesterday to do ADR. (That’s short for Automated Dialogue Replacement, which is the process of dubbing over voices or re-recording lines for film and TV.)

That’s the ADR studio. It’s also used to record sound effects, so you can see samples of different terrain in the ground as well as random props to create everyday sounds.

It’s dark because I had them turn the lights off so I could get into the mood easier. I was there to do mood sounds — breathing, panting, screaming, kissing — for my two short films.

It’s really weird simulating kissing sounds alone, without the help of a partner. But I enjoyed the challenge of making it sound convincing. I used my right hand. It was a challenge alright because hands don’t kiss back.


Standing in front of the microphone and watching myself on screen so I can synch my sounds to my screen actions.


The lights were turned on for a bit so I could have my photo taken.


Can you see me doing the victory sign through the glass panel?


My directors overseeing the recording.


Previewing my films in the theatrette.

Can’t wait for the official screening on the 19th when I’ll get to watch the final product with the newly-recorded sounds!

Now nursing a strained throat from all the screaming.