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in plainspeak
Talking about sexuality in South and Southeast Asia
2007, Issue 2

table of contents
This is a special issue of In Plainspeak focussing on Films of Desire: Sexuality and the Cinematic Imagination.
Cover:
poster graphic
films of desire
This publication is for educational purposes and limited circulation only.
Supported by The Ford Foundation
about the event / 2
from the editor / radhika chandiramani / 4
heterosexual romance / 8
spinning a fine web / 11
interview / ellen ongkeko-marfil / 14
my journey of emotions / vu thanh long / 24
films for social change / beth martin / 28
review / alvin s concha / 33
the pornographic imagination / 36
tan’s uncut list of fine singaporean incisions / namita malhotra / 40
interview / michael shaowanasai / 44
beyond normative sexuality / siddharth narrain / 49
review / hoang tu anh / 52
black, white, and the world between . . . / s vinita / 56
snapshots / 58
at the resource centre / 60
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 1

about the event
Films of Desire: Sexuality and the Cinematic Imagination was
a four day event that aimed to explore the ways in which
visual representations in features, short films, documentaries,
animation, music videos, and experimental films engage with
ideas of sexuality in South and Southeast Asia.
CREA is an NGO, based in New Delhi, India, that empowers
women to articulate, demand and access their human rights
by enhancing women’s leadership and focussing on issues
of sexuality, sexual and reproductive rights, violence against
women, women’s rights and social justice.
At Films of Desire there were fifty-nine films screened,
and twelve panels and two skills building workshops were
conducted. There were twenty-six speakers and eighteen
film makers present. More than 100 participants from over
15 countries participated in the event. The films were mainly
from South and Southeast Asia. Some international films
were also screened. Three film packages were especially
curated for the event. The panels addressed themes as
diverse as the question of representation itself, censorship,
heterosexualities, visibilities and invisibilities, concerns of
representation of pain and exploitation, queer politics,
right wing movements, digital technology, Indian cinema,
biographies and films made for social intervention.
Films of Desire was organised by CREA in partnership with
The South and Southeast Asia Resource Centre on Sexuality
from March 7 – 10, 2007, at Neemrana, in Rajasthan, India.
For more information on Films of Desire, visit: www.
filmsofdesire.org Check out the blog on the website as
well.
Event Director: Geetanjali Misra
Event Coordinator: Shilpa Phadke
Organising Committee: Geetanjali Misra,
Radhika Chandiramani, Shilpa Phadke, Shohini Ghosh
Operations Manager: Sushma Luthra
Event Advisors: Aseem Chhabra, Carole S. Vance,
Dede Oetomo, Geetanjali Misra, Prabeen Singh,
Pramada Menon, Radhika Chandiramani, Shilpa Phadke,
Shohini Ghosh, Sushma Luthra.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 ·

from the editor
from the editor
framing the issues
Radhika Chandiramani
The team worked
together to craft an
event that would focus
on the ways in which
cinematic representations
interact with ideas of
sexuality, gender, sexual
identity, erotica and
censorship, sometimes
challenging them and at
other times reinforcing
them.
Welcome to this issue of In Plainspeak that brings you special
articles from Films of Desire: Sexuality and the Cinematic
Imagination, a four day event that was organised by CREA
and the Resource Centre in March 2007 around sexuality
and films. CREA is an NGO, based in New Delhi, India,
that empowers women to articulate, demand and access
their human rights by enhancing women’s leadership and
focussing on issues of sexuality, sexual and reproductive
rights, violence against women, women’s rights and social
justice.
Why did we want to put sexuality and film together, well
might you ask. What comes to mind? Sexy movies? Porn?
Sitting in the back row of the theatre with someone? Perhaps
little else, unless you work on sexuality or with film. But if
you think about a little more, you will see that almost every
film made, has something to say about sexuality. Not just
in what is shown in terms of sex or romantic scenes, but
also by way of the assumptions about the characters and
events in the film. Who does the main character romance?
What are the messages about romance itself? What happens
when sexual codes are broken? If there are any ‘deviants’
(sexual or gender non-conformists) in the film at all, what
roles do they occupy? Are they objects of veneration or
of ridicule? Are they centre-stage or do they lurk in the
shadowy margins? See, there’s more to even a seemingly
girl-meets-boy, they fall in love and live happily ever after
movie. It’s telling us something about the world we live in,
even though it is ‘only a movie’.
These ideas were discussed and worked on through a year
long planning process culminating in Films of Desire with
a team of core organisers that included Geetanjali Misra,
Shilpa Phadke and Shohini Ghosh, and myself. The team
worked together to craft an event that would focus on the
ways in which cinematic representations interact with ideas
of sexuality, gender, sexual identity, erotica and censorship,
sometimes challenging them and at other times reinforcing
them. A space for activists, film lovers, academics, students
and film-makers to share in the pleasure of watching films,
and also to engage with each other in critically discussing
issues of sexuality and representation. Films of Desire was a
happy mix of film screenings, panel discussions, interviews
with film directors, and many discussions that continued
late into the night. This issue of In Plainspeak brings you
some glimpses from there.
As we all know, films are a very powerful medium of
communication. Films reflect what is going on in society
at a particular time, they reflect or allay social anxieties;
they sometimes solidify social norms and, at others, offer
an alternative vision of being.
Films of Desire put the power of visual representation
together with the lure of that most forbidden of subjects,
sexuality, and the result was fascinating. Sexuality, itself,
whether as lived experience, or as a field of study, is a
space of contestation, bursting over with a multiplicity of
tensions. Sexual desire has its own potential to liberate.
Films reflect what is
going on in society
at a particular time,
they reflect or allay
social anxieties; they
sometimes solidify social
norms and, at others,
offer an alternative
vision of being.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 ·
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 ·

from the editor
from the editor
Because of the
undisputed power of
the image, it is important
for us to look at how
different sexualities,
sexual practices, sexual
expectations, gender
roles, and messages
about sexual and
gender conformity
are depicted in cinema,
and how they are
read. Films work in
So also, cinematic representation is complex, in content,
form and its effects. How artists or film makers choose to
represent visual images depends on their imagination, craft,
and aesthetic preferences. Films screened at the event took
many forms – short films, features, experimental films,
music videos, and documentaries.
Viewers are not passive observers of visual images. Different
viewers do not see the same thing when they watch the
same movie – they interpret things according to what they
bring into their movie-watching experience. People ‘read’
films differently. It’s what the spectators bring with their
gaze, or the way they look at something. Thus a queer gaze
can queer a film. As Shohini Ghosh often says, ‘Think of
the male-bonding sequences in Bollywood films, the older
ones like Sholay (Embers) or Yaarana (Friendship), and
the newer movies like Kal Ho Na Ho (If Tomorrow Never
Comes), or even in older Hollywood films like Ben Hur, or
newer ones like Alexander, where part of the audience reads
the scenes as male-bonding sequences and others see them
as covertly or even overtly, homoerotic.’
What is the sex appeal
of a character?
It may be nothing
tangible. It could be
a limp. It could be
a crooked smile.
It could be anything,
but there is a certain
attractiveness in
everyone, and to find
that attractiveness
is a very attractive
process.’
our imagination, our
cinematic imagination.
This imagination is both
personal and collective.
That is why films speak
to more than one
person and hold the
power they have.
Sexual desire is not always only about the ‘sexual’, but
comes imbued with layers of power, and sometimes notso-sunny
motives, like anger, control, retribution, and
even death. The dark places of desire are as important to
understand as its power to revolutionise, through cinematic
representation.
Today, there is a proliferation of visual images all around us
– newspaper photos, TV, films, videos, DVD, MTV, Webcam
shots, and many more. These may be impelled by artistic,
political or economic motivations; whatever the case, they
are thriving. Images talk not just with their audiences; they
also ‘talk’ with each other. More so, with globalisation,
these conversations between representations of visual
images are not restricted by geographical boundaries or by
‘form’.
The interrogation of images and diverse readings of them
was the focus of discussions at Films of Desire. Because of
the undisputed power of the image, it is important for
us to look at how different sexualities, sexual practices,
sexual expectations, gender roles, and messages about
sexual and gender conformity are depicted in cinema, and
how they are read. Films work in our imagination, our
cinematic imagination. This imagination is both personal
and collective. That is why films speak to more than one
person and hold the power they have.
Aparna Sen at Films of Desire
The authors of the articles in this issue of In Plainspeak,
through their reflections on films they watched, panels they
attended and conversations they had at Films of Desire, discuss
how questions of sexuality and representation are often
fraught with anxiety and ossify around a set of stereotypical
binaries: heterosexual-homosexual; masculine-feminine,
sameness-difference, family entertainment-pornography,
to name some, and show how moving away from these
binaries of black and white allows us to enjoy the full
spectrum of the exhilarating range of human experience
and emotion.
Just like what Aparna Sen, one of India’s doyennes of
cinema said at a public interview with Shohini Ghosh at
Films of Desire: ‘I think people have sex appeal and that is
irrespective of gender, or age, or anything. One person
finds another person attractive. It doesn’t necessarily
have to translate into physical intimacy but it could, it
needn’t but it can be an attraction. Like, I have had so
many women friends with whom I have enjoyed hours of
chatting because I just find them so attractive as people
and I cannot analyse why, just like I can’t analyse my films.
I can’t analyse why I find them attractive. I mean you just
buy it, and if that happens with a man then of course it is
expected. It is expected both by society, and by the man,
and possibly by women, that it will translate into some
sort of physical intimacy. It is rare when it doesn’t in case
of heterosexual people, but I’m an incurable romantic, of
course. This is true. In any case, I think of something that an
American actor, whose name I have forgotten, said – that
he approaches a role through that character’s sex appeal.
What is the sex appeal of a character? It may be nothing
tangible. It could be a limp. It could be a crooked smile. It
could be anything, but there is a certain attractiveness in
everyone, and to find that attractiveness is a very attractive
process.’
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 ·
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 ·

heterosexual romance
heterosexual romance
heterosexual romance:
rapture
or rupture?
challenges to
heterosexuality and
marriage have used
arguments about
patriarchy and about
the fact that marriage
is a privilege accorded
only to heterosexuals.
But they have not
challenged the ideal
of romantic love And
permanence that underlies
heterosexual marriage.
Because heterosexuality is normative (meaning that society
considers, unquestioningly, that that is the way people
should be), it is often part of the unspoken. By virtue of
defining other sexualities as non-normative, heterosexuality
then assumes its place as taken for granted. So it appears to
be uniform, without any diversity, in fact, as homogenous.
Sea Ling Chen disrupted this taken-for-grantedness in her
talk at Films of Desire.
Sea Ling Cheng is an anthropologist who researches issues
of sexuality, prostitution, migration, trafficking and human
rights. She has conducted research in South Korea, the
Philippines, Hong Kong, and Shanghai. She is on the faculty
of Women Studies Department at Wellesley College, in
Wellesley, Massachusetts.
Sea Ling reminded us that over the past 30 years, sexuality
studies have destabilised the notion that heterosexual
is natural and good and that any deviations from it are
unnatural or bad. They have done this mainly by focusing
on non-normative sexualities. However, it is important
to turn the focus back on to the so-called normative, i.e.
heterosexuality.
So far, challenges to heterosexuality and marriage have
used arguments about patriarchy and about the fact that
marriage is a privilege accorded only to heterosexuals. But
they have not challenged the ideal of romantic love and
permanence that underlies heterosexual marriage.
Sea Ling thinks that it is important to focus on the
heterosexual couple in order to de-centre heterosexuality
as an institution that organises intimacy and sexuality. We
know that a feminist critique of monogamy challenges the
private ownership of one person by another, as well as the
assumption that the lack of sexual exclusivity will lead to
strong feelings of jealousy and insecurity.
The idea of a heterosexual couple locked together for life as
a nuclear unit is an alien concept to the Mosuo, a matrilineal
ethnic group in China. The Mosuo live around the Lugu
Lake in south western China on the border between Yunnan
and Sichuan provinces. Kids are born into the mother’s
family and all siblings work collectively for the household
economy. There is no marriage as we know it. At the age of
12, the girl is said to have come of age, and becomes free
to receive a lover under the sisi system (or what is called a
‘walking marriage’), where the man walks to the woman’s
house to have sex but returns to his own house the next
morning. The woman can end this ‘marriage’ by just not
opening the door. Children born from these relations live
with the mother’s family. The father has no obligations.
During the Cultural Revolution in China, the Han Chinese
(majority people) considered this practice primitive and
forced the Mosuo to marry. After the failure of the Cultural
Revolution, some of the Mosuo went back to the sisi system.
A documentary made by Chow Wah Shan in 2001 on them
has this quote from a Mosuo woman, ‘I don’t understand
Sea Ling Cheng
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in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 ·

heterosexual romance
spinning a fine web
They say this, ‘I am yours
and you are mine’ thing.
What is this?
I am I, and you are you.
You are not mine and
I am not yours.
true love’. During the series, in his quest for ‘the one’,
the bachelor engages in varying degrees of emotional and
sexual intimacies with many of the women, leading of
course to bitter tears for the ones who are not chosen.
This challenges everyday thinking about the practice of
monogamy in heterosexual relationships – to find the one,
he dallies with the many. And even, when he does find ‘the
one’, the question is ‘Will it last?’, because very few of
these coupledoms formed through the reality show have
lasted for any length of time. These ruptures allow us to see
that there is no one version of heterosexuality.
spinning a fine web
the Han Chinese way of love and this small family business.
They say this, ‘I am yours and you are mine’ thing. What
is this? I am I, and you are you. You are not mine and I am
not yours. The most important thing we Mosuos have is our
family. So, if my lover leaves me, it is fine. I always have my
family. So, we don’t have such problems as love suicide or
love murder.’
This is a strong critique of the notion that in romantic
love one person belongs to or is owned by another and
voluntarily submits one’s self completely to the other. This
quote from the Mosuo woman also leads us to question
whether the desire for monogamy is intrinsic or is generated
by the way society is ordered and organised.
Sea Ling then deftly moved us to another context to look
at dating practices and at the concept of heterosexual
monogamy through the reality TV show, The Bachelor,
in the US that has successfully completed nine series. In
each series, one distinguished (by wealth, or looks, or
achievements or a combination) man looking for ‘true
and lasting love’ dates 25 selected women and, over time,
eliminates them one by one, until he is sure that he has
found ‘the one’. The series ends with him giving her a
red rose, and one assumes that they happily walk off into
the sunset, bound in love for life. The show has a huge
following, with audiences vicariously following the twists
and turns of romance, week after week.
Therefore, heterosexualities and their diverse
representations have a subversive potential to open up
spaces that accommodate a plurality of desires and erotic
practices that go beyond a simplistic homo-hetero divide.
Recent work on sexual rights has also gone beyond identity
politics, i.e. making claims based on identity as hetero- or
homosexual, and has moved to claiming rights based on
broader principles such as the right to bodily integrity
and the right to pursue sexual pleasure. Therefore, for Sea
Ling, as for all of us, recognizing the subversive potential
of heterosexualities is not only about gaining sexual rights,
but also a personal and political project of liberation and
empowerment.
heterosexualities
and their diverse
representations have
a subversive potential
to open up spaces
that accommodate a
plurality of desires and
erotic practices that
go beyond a simplistic
homo-hetero divide.
Is heterosexuality easily
assumed to be inevitable?
Is heterosexual marriage as
strong an institution as it
appears be? These are some
of the questions Nivedita
Menon asked and addressed
in her talk at Films of
Desire.
Nivedita Menon teaches
political science at Delhi
University. She has been
a Centre Fellow at the
International Centre for
Advanced Studies at New
York University. Her work
on contemporary politics in
India has focused mainly on
feminist politics and she has
been active for over a decade
in non-party non-funded
citizens’ initiatives around
issues of democratic politics
including workers’ rights,
sexualities issues, and anticommunal
politics.
Nivedita Menon
Nivedita used the metaphor
of a web spun of fine
filament that shows up only
when light glints on some
of the filaments at certain
angles. The whole purpose
of weaving such a fine web
is so that it is not seen, but
there are moments when
some of the filaments get lit
up and we are then able to
see the web. The carefully
constructed web is a
metaphor for the effort that
goes into producing the kind
of discourse that upholds
heterosexuality and marriage,
while the lighting up of the
filaments is a metaphor for
the circulation of different
discourses that sometimes
collide with the one on
marriage and sexuality to
provide a moment of insight.
She illustrated these glints
in the web through four
different stories.
Sea Ling points out that such reality TV performances
queer the public-private divide by making so public
something as personal as the process of ‘finding the one
Nivedita talked about some of the ways in which private
and public imaginations get structured by the assumption
of the inevitability of heterosexuality. Through her talk,
The first story is about how Nivedita’s great-grandmother,
who belonged to the matrilineal Nair community, was
aghast to discover that at the village school, her grandson
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 10 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 11

spinning a fine web
spinning a fine web
was being taught the concept that family meant wife and
children. This was in the 1930s and the great grandmother
herself was not uneducated. The idea that a family means a
man’s wife and his children appeared to be unnatural, antitraditional
and disgusting to this proud old lady. That was
one glint of the web
Second story. This one is about the mother-in-law of C.
Kesavan who was a leader of the Ezhava community during
India’s struggle for independence.
Towards the end of the 19 th century,
one of the big movements for caste
reform required the women of the
Ezhava community in Kerala to cover
their breasts. For centuries, women
in Kerala had walked around barebreasted.
Then, towards the end
of the 19 th century, ‘higher caste’
women began to clothe their breasts
and Ezhava women were not allowed
to do so because of caste hierarchy
rules. Years later, Kesavan’s motherin-law
recounted to him an incident
from her life during those times. It
so happened that while this militant
caste reform movement was going
on, Kesavan’s mother-in-law, who
was accustomed to go about barebreasted,
received some saree blouses
from her sister-in-law (these are
the tight little blouses, rather like a
bustier, that Indian women wear with
a saree). She hid them away. One day
she wore a blouse and was admiring
herself secretly when she was caught
by her mother and berated for being
a slut and asked if she wanted to
walk around dressed like a ‘Muslim
woman’. Scared of her mother,
she hid away the blouses again, and
later told her son-in-law that she
would only wear them ‘at night, for
the delectation of my husband, who
came to me like a divine lover.’
Nivedita used
the metaphor
of a web spun
of fine filament
that shows up
only when light
glints on some
of the filaments
at certain
angles. The
whole purpose
of weaving such
a fine web is so
that it is not
seen, but there
are moments
when some of the
filaments get lit
up and we are
then able to see
the web.
This story clearly illustrates how the secrecy and the
forbidden nature of the act of clothing, actually sexualised
the covering of her breasts, whereas today, the act of
uncovering is more likely to be sexualised. It is also
interesting how the ‘public’ act of caste defiance and the
‘private’ act of sexuality come together in such a way that
there is no longer a clear difference between public and
private. Transgressing the rules of the caste hierarchy itself
brought along its own sexual thrill for the young couple.
It shows how public politics and
private sex come together to create
heterosexual desire. The point of
Nivedita’s story was that heterosexual
desire is not inevitable; it is created
and influenced by different factors,
including acts of transgressing caste
norms.
The third story is about the hullabaloo
that ensued when Khushboo, a Tamil
film star, said, in an interview to
a national magazine, that society
should free itself from outdated ideas
that a woman should be a virgin until
she marries. She went on to say that
women should practise safer sex
and insist on condom use to prevent
conception and HIV. These remarks
were met with vociferous outrage by
different groups who saw it as an insult
to Tamil women and to Tamil culture.
Five women advocates filed a case of
defamation against her, saying that if
she says this, it means that as Tamil
women they can be assumed to have
had sex before marriage! Khushboo’s
remarks were construed to sully the
caste and the religious purity of Tamil
women. Incidentally, Khushboo is
from North India and is a Muslim,
as are many Tamil actresses. Both of
these identities were alluded to when
demands were made that she go
back to her native Mumbai. Political
groups of different hues jumped into
the fray, and to cut a long story short,
the matter ended weeks later, when
Khushboo issued an apology. During
this fracas, all kinds of discourses
were used: that of religion, culture,
caste, class, and purity.
This incident and the ensuing drama
reveals the tremendous anxieties
around keeping the institution of
marriage safe so that religious and
caste identities remain unsullied
and unquestioned. Religious and
caste identities can remain safe only
when the caste or religious lineage is
pure, or in other words, when there
is complete control over women’s
sexuality. A simple statement
promoting condom use threatened
the rules of who could sleep with
whom and under what circumstances
in the fragile kingdom of heterosexual
marriage.
And fragile, it does appear to be if one looks at the recent
debates about adultery in India. If prosecuted for adultery,
a man can be jailed for five years with a fine. Women
cannot be prosecuted for adultery and only the husband
can prosecute his wife’s lover. There has been much debate
over this, and in the name of gender equality, some groups
want women to also be made prosecutable for adultery.
This is a ridiculous situation when you think about it,
because what is adultery an offence against?
It is an offence against an institution – the institution of
marriage. According to Nivedita, adultery is a word that
makes sense only within a dictionary called marriage. If
you believe in that dictionary and you want to speak that
language, do it. But it may equally well be a language that
you can do without, like many other languages. Then, the
word adultery makes no sense.
A simple statement
promoting
condom use
threatened the
rules of who
could sleep
with whom and
under what
circumstances
in the fragile
kingdom of
heterosexual
marriage.
Fourth Story. Some months ago, in a
little village in West Bengal, a 16 year
old girl was beaten, and tortured
by her own village community for
dressing like a boy. What was so
alarming about this 16 year old,
who in newspaper photos, looks
like a thin little 12 year old, wearing
boy’s clothing? The real issue was
that Mamata, who had been dressing
like this for quite some time, had
refused to give up her friendship
with another young woman who had
recently been married off. Mamata
continued to visit her and keep the
friendship going. This does not imply
that they were having sex, but clearly
they shared such a strong emotional
bond, that the new marriage found
itself threatened.
Somehow, in doing this – wearing
trousers and shirts, being closely
bonded with her female friend
– Mamata, who has never read Judith Butler or Adrienne
Rich, slipped through the carefully constructed web. She
thought it was perfectly fine to love a woman and perfectly
fine to dress the way she did. The force of the entire village
had to be mobilised to contain the non-conformity of one
thin little girl.
Nivedita’s talk shone light on this web around us, to use
her beginning metaphor, that we don’t even notice until
something happens – moments like the incidents in the
four stories she told – that makes us stop for a moment and
think, ‘Hey, now what is this all about? If heterosexuality
and marriage are such assuredly inevitable institutions,
what is the need for strict rules telling us what we can or
cannot do?’ What unceasing effort it takes to keep spinning
the web, to keep the twin institutions of heterosexuality
and marriage in place!
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 12 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 13

interview
interview
I’ve always believed that directing films requires boldness and bravery
because it means putting your soul on the line. And women starting from
childhood have always been more constrained from expressing themselves;
among school-age children, teachers would always say how difficult
boys are, unlike the girls who are obedient.
Ellen Ongkeko-Marfil
Ellen Ongkeko-Marfil schooled at the
University of the Philippines, Philippine
Educational Theater Association,
Mowelfund Film Institute with short
visitorship programmes in Paris and
London. She is a veteran writer-directorproducer
for both alternative and
mainstream circuits, once a supervising
producer for Star Cinema and recently
a public affairs programme manager for
GMA Network. She recently founded
ERASTO Productions, Inc. whose first
project Mga Pusang Gala (Stray Cats) was
made possible through equity-sharing of
almost the whole cast and staff. This was
her first full-length digital feature which
she both directed and produced. The film
won the Docker’s first feature award at
the San Francisco LGBT Film Festival, June
2006. Her award winning documentaries
include Walang Bakas (Without a Trace),
Is your Gender an Issue? and, Luha,
Pawis at Tuwa: Kasaysayan ng mga
Babaeng Maralita (Tears, Sweat and
Laughter: A Story of Urban Poor Women)
Her first full-length digital feature is the
critically-acclaimed Angels, a Star Cinema
production.
Ellen Ongkeko-Marfil
How did you begin the work that
you are doing now?
Since college, I was with the Philippine Educational Theater
Association (PETA), a company committed to theatre for
social transformation. It deals with various issues such as
poverty, land reform, women’s concerns… More than a
decade ago, we decided to take our causes to television and
I became an in-house director. I was bitten by the bug – the
medium was for me and the wide audience reach was a major
turn-on. We had kicked out a dictator but the mindsets
hadn’t changed. Soon, I was a supervising producer for a
mainstream film studio while directing drama for their TV
network. Later, I was a news and public affairs programme
manager for another mainstream television network and
was quite fulfilled with the documentaries and the serviceoriented
shows I handled.
But I wanted the combination of drama features and
advocacy as well as the big screen. I love the big screen
and have had an on and off affair with mainstream cinema.
Both because of the art and the craft as well as its power
to influence. Unfortunately, the greater the influence of
any medium, the greater the control – from the state, the
businessmen, the moralists…
The entry of digital cinema allowed me to go into film
seriously. Through digital technology, I was able to go
on my own, direct and produce at the same time, which
means greater control in terms of process, output, and
distribution – and for the big screen at that! My goal was to
use alternative means of doing film (digital, equity-sharing)
to create mainstream impact. I may have moved away from
theatre, but always, I carried the advocacy with me.
Do the films in the Philippines cater
to women? What are the kinds of
films they get to see?
There are various genres and some cater to women – the
romantic comedies, the melodramas, even horror, I
learned is patronised mostly by girls. But as far as sexuality
is concerned, I don’t think most films in the Philippines
cater to women. It’s like romance is for women, sex is for
men. My intention was to fill that gap. So I was thrilled
when a female reviewer who has reviewed Filipino films
for quite some time, wrote about Mga Pusang Gala that
for the first time she didn’t squirm while watching a sexy
scene on screen. Of course, sexuality isn’t just a sex scene
but the whole context. And I thought that seemingly light
comment put the whole difference in perspective.
Is it easy being a woman film-maker?
In the Philippines, many film outfits are headed by women
executives and producers. Of course you have to deal
with the patriarchal values and machismo of mainstream
industries. But certainly, it isn’t closed to women. That
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 14 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 15

interview
interview
. . . the struggle was a long
process which started from
my schooldays and not only
during my career life, leaving a
comfortable home to be able to
choose one’s own lifestyle and
values, to learn to brave going
home late nights by carrying
a swiss knife or tear gas can in
one’s bag.
there are very few women directors, however, I can
attribute to the basic upbringing of women. May I quote
from an earlier interview: ‘Women have been more
constrained in expressing their real selves freely, which is
what creativity is all about. In growing up, girls have been
controlled to conform more to the dictates of society, to
be feminine, which means to sit properly, talk softly. You’re
not even allowed to laugh out loud. Not only that, you
are not encouraged to climb trees, you’re not supposed to
go out at night, you have to be protected. No need to be
brave! But that protection meant nothing but repression.
To be a director, you need wounds, you need to be able to
laugh out loud, to be able to go wild and crazy the way boys
are allowed to. I had to exorcise many things, including
my aversion to technology’. But the struggle was a long
process which started from my schooldays and not only
during my career life, leaving a comfortable home to be
able to choose one’s own lifestyle and values, to learn to
brave going home late nights by carrying a swiss knife or
tear gas can in one’s bag. The internal struggle is helped
along of course by involvement in public struggles for
change.
Why do you make the films that you
do?
I usually choose my subject depending on my reaction to
a certain subject, event or situation. Angels, I did because I
felt strongly for the plight of the masseur who serviced me
every now and then and her son who served as her guide.
I was awed by the dignified way they coped with their
difficulties. Walang Bakas (Without A Trace), I did because
it was the 20 th anniversary of the assassination of Ninoy
Aquino and yet somehow, the situation was still the same.
There are desaparecidos twenty years after we had kicked
out a dictator
What motivated you to make Mga
Pusang Gala?
Unfortunately, that year in 1995 when I did get to work
for a film outfit, the talk then was that the film industry
was dying and that only ‘bold films’ were surviving. In the
Philippines, films tackling sexuality are generally classified
as ‘bold’, almost a euphemism for films with nudity and
sex scenes, if not downright pornography.
I decided I needed to go and see these ‘bold’ films for myself.
As a film lover I had gotten used to going to the movies
myself, but this time, out of fear and embarrassment, I
dragged my husband along as these films were patronised
mostly by men. Seeing these films, I was aghast, more than
anything else. One story, for example, is about a rape case
where the victim kills all the rapists in the end. Pretty
acceptable proposition. There was this image, however, of
the man, putting his gun to the woman’s face ordering her
to give him oral sex while he thrust his pelvis in front of
her. The image was shown repetitively, throughout the film
after the incident, in the guise of motivating her to take
revenge. Intentionally or not, I think it created a different
effect. Amidst the predominantly male audience, I saw
some women with their male partners and two women
huddled together, seemingly squirming in their seats.
I checked out one ‘bold’ film after another but I usually
couldn’t watch the whole movie as the portrayal of women
was generally as being objects of lust, in various poses of
undress and the overall feel was that of voyeurism. I felt
violated most of the time.
I realised then how sexuality, being a taboo subject in
this catolico serrado country, has been dominated by the
perspective of men, which dominated women’s own
consciousness of their sexuality – thus the constant desire
to be sexy and to please their men.
I told myself then that I wanted to do my own version of
a ‘bold’ film, this time from a woman’s perspective, but
within the same battleground where the audience are, and
yet change the rules. In short, I wanted to intervene.
Was it easy getting the movie project
off the ground?
My first project pitch was an anatomy of a marriage story
set during the period from the Marcos dictatorship to the
victory of Erap Estrada, a macho actor who rose to become
president. More than a love story, it tackled sex and the
growth of the woman’s consciousness, contextualised
within the growth of the women’s movement of that
period. My film studio was wary of ‘bold’ films. They
focussed on teen romances, capitalising on their TV stars’
following. I decided to go on my own and pitched the story
to various producers.
One male producer asked me if I was married, seemingly
puzzled about why I wanted to do this type of film. The
belief is that ‘sexy films’ is male territory, of course.
Another producer did sign me in, but he wanted me to cut
out all the politics.
Finally, I was able to get the most prolific woman producer
to get excited about it. She may have been disappointed
however because I wanted a female lead who was beautiful
but not male-defined sexy – she was quite flat-chested
for a bold film. Yes I wanted to show flesh, but not for the
audience to feast on. The producer refused the budget I
asked for. I checked out another actress who she thought
was no longer ‘fresh’. Finally, after two years, I was ready to
compromise and offered the project to an upcoming ‘bold’
actress, but the actress’ manager refused. He said it wasn’t
bold or sexy enough. I went on to do other projects. But
still the idea of a ‘bold film’ nagged me.
Thankfully, with the entry of the affordable digital
technology, film making has become democratised,
available to anyone who likes to take part in the discourse
and break the monopoly of dominant culture. I thought this
was my chance to produce myself. I looked for material
that was manageable – few actors, few locations – and I
remembered Mga Pusang Gala or Stray Cats, an awardwinning
play by PETA in the mid 90s, a parody about
a woman and a gay man bonding in search of true love.
Actually, I pitched this to the woman producer but her gay
creative consultant wanted me to cut out the gay part and
focus on the woman’s story. I refused because I thought the
parallelism and the differentiation of the female and gay
oppression was what got me interested in the play.
Finally we just did it ourselves with equity sharing amongst
the cast and crew.
So that is one major difficulty, becoming a filmmaker on
your own terms, carrying your own perspective against
dominant ideology, that is a source of struggle.
Your film has been much acclaimed.
What do you think is the cause for
its success?
I don’t know, my plan was just to do a small film. I was quite
surprised with the noise it made locally, the good reviews,
the nominations, the awards. And then it won the Docker’s
first feature at Frameline 30, the oldest and biggest LGBT
film festival, and now it is going around various festivals
abroad. But although it has its share of great responses
from women, I’d say it’s really more popular with the gay
men. Carolyn Coombes of the Miami Gay and Lesbian Film
What was the point? That
women and gays are stupidly
masochistic? Or that there was
something in our socialisation
and upbringing that brought
out the madness in us when it
came to love and sex. This was
the point. But was it clear?
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interview
interview
Festival, a member of the jury in Frameline, said she liked it
because it isn’t just for gay men but for everybody. Actually
I did it for women primarily. I think women’s cause is very
much tied up with the whole LGBT cause which is about
being able to live out of the box. So maybe it’s that. But
maybe aside from the advocacy, it’s also the good script,
the good acting. May I make a sales pitch here? Come June,
DVDs will soon be available internationally and we are
actually looking for distributors in various territories. Then
maybe the viewers can answer the question themselves.
The film uses humour in a very
cunning way. Do you want to tell
us your thinking behind that?
Actually, at first, I was ambivalent about the play. I read the
play even before it was staged and I could not put it down.
I kept on laughing, but in the end, I felt disturbed, feeling
either stupid or insulted. When I saw it performed, the
feeling was the same and it was shared by others, mostly
women and progressives. It was hilarious, it seemed real
and honest, but it also offended something in me. I could
not articulate why at that time.
Many years later, I decided to confront that feeling. I sat
down with the original playwright and another writer,
both gays, and I shared my issues.
Stray Cats, the play, is the story of Marta, an ordinary
employee and her gay landlord Boyet, a dressmaker. They
become best friends sharing parallel love lives, serving
their lovers, waiting for commitments that never come. In
one night of madness, they take their revenge.
The over-all feeling is, gosh, they’re so stupid, they keep
on taking the abuse, they deserve what they get. And yet I
know there are many people like that even among successful
women and gays, among friends, and even within myself to
a certain extent.
Studying it for a film project, I understood the parody
as a style where you push circumstances and characters
to the extreme, where you
exaggerate to drive home a
point.
What was the point? That
women and gays are stupidly
masochistic? Or that there
was something in our
socialisation and upbringing
that brought out the madness
in us when it came to love
and sex. This was the point.
But was it clear? Without
demeaning the audience
– I was part of the audience
– are they aware of that social
conditioning and do they
process it accordingly?
We decided to make that obvious. The gay character who is
a dressmaker, we turned into a romance novelist, writing a
novel based on his neighbour’s love life; the romance novel
as a backdrop – romantic conditioning as the main culprit
of such craziness.
Romantic conditioning which primes a woman to believe
that her wedding day is the most important day in her
life. That waiting for her prince to sweep her off her feet
– is really no different from the Catholic Bible’s story of
creation where woman was taken from the rib of man, to
love, serve and obey him and be his playmate in paradise
– and this is also no different from the ideology of ‘bold
or pornographic films’ where a woman is portrayed as an
object of lust, her body created for man’s consumption.
Is it a wonder then that indeed women can go crazy for
love, sex and romance at the cost of their being? And how
better to reflect this condition than by presenting the gay
character who beats her in feudal womanhood, serving
his man even more than she does – not only does he cook
his meals, warm his bed, he also provides for his financial
needs, even without any commitment – a very common
situation among Filipino gays.
Mga Pusang Gala was my reaction to the ‘bold films’
which showcased women as objects of desire, as well as
my reaction to the romance
films and what romance
generally did to the psyche
of women and gays. It was
a chance to exorcise the
madness of Love, Sex and
Romance.
Tell us a little
more about how
you developed
the two main
characters,
Marta and Boyet.
Despite this commonality
in oppression, the gay
character seemed ahead –
he adopted a son and he delighted in his work as romance
novelist. The female character had a job as an advertising
executive but was sexually harassed by her boss, which
dominated her career more than anything else.
I wanted to do this primarily for women and wanted the
woman to be equal to the gay character. I thought it was
because both my writers were gay that I could not even
them out. But in truth, I realized that the gay character had
benefited from the male conditioning on the importance
of career, making him more self-contained than a woman
who needed a man for completeness. And so I retained the
imbalance.
It is a parody and pushing things to the extreme served its
purpose.
Did the humour lead to people
misreading it or trivializing it?
In the original script, the lead characters take their
vengeance – they go mad and kill their lovers – parody
style. In the film, parody is mixed with melodrama. The
female and gay characters suffer their pain in melodramatic
fashion. She attempts suicide, he kills his pet cats. I did not
want to trivialize their pain. I did not want the audience
to laugh at their pains. I wanted all my viewers who may
have had broken hearts to remember their pain. So in
parody style, they exorcise their pain and their madness by
conjuring various ways to kill their lovers – from serious to
laughable ways. The exorcism happens in their minds – an
anti-fantasy fantasy, and finally as they bury their dead, they
kiss and embrace and in the morning, they are hysterical to
find themselves naked together in bed. Did they have sex?
I intentionally made it vague which suited the third part,
where illusion and realism constantly interspersed
In the end, I thought it was irrelevant whether they had
sex or not. The story was meant to push people to think
out of the box. So anything is possible. We cannot put
people in boxes and stereotypes. The ambivalent ending
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interview
interview
Is it a wonder then that indeed
women can go crazy for love,
sex and romance at the cost of
their being? And how better to
reflect this condition than by
presenting the gay character
who beats her in feudal
womanhood, serving his man
even more than she does – not
only does he cook his meals,
warm his bed, he also provides
for his financial needs, even
without any commitment –
a very common situation
among Filipino gays.
was a revelation. Audiences made their own interpretations
based on what they wanted to believe.
But in the end, only the emotions were real. And the
exorcism of the pain is the exorcism of the myths….the
only way to heal, move on and resurrect. And only through
awareness can empowerment be achieved. Most times
when I introduce the film to audiences, I say that I hope the
film will give us a chance to laugh at ourselves and heal and
be empowered along the way.
Of course these were all my plans, my sincere intentions,
but film is a medium with its own structures and characters
that follow their own logic after some time.
More importantly, cinema is only one half the filmmaker’s
perspective. The other half is provided by the viewers
depending on their level of consciousness.
So I’m not sure how to answer this question. Certainly
there were those who misunderstood or disagreed, some
because of the style, others because of the content. You
can’t really please everyone.
How have women’s groups reacted
to the film in the Philippines?
Women generally liked it and would tell me they saw,
if not themselves, their friends, in the lead role. Some
cried, some got hurt and walked out. Feminists were torn
between loving and hating it.
It was shown at the 16 th International Women’s Film
Festival in Manila, but after much argument, I heard, about
whether it was a woman’s film or not. Even when it was
first invited, the organisers asked if my protagonist was a
victim or an empowered woman. I answered that she is a
victim but in the end she exorcises her pain and moves on.
‘Isn’t honesty the issue?’, I thought.
This seems to be a main concern of most women’s festivals
– to show women as empowered. Though I understand
where they are coming from – because indeed there is a
need for a woman to see herself in a new light – it actually
disturbs me. I think it does the movement injustice when
women artistes just beginning to speak up are immediately
boxed in within particular frameworks.
I want to ask them how many women film makers are
there? In the Philippines, many of the film outfits are led
by women. And yet there are less than 10 women film
makers, and the majority will not do so-called ‘sexy’
films.
I understand the requirements of a movement, analytical
frameworks in studying and presenting issues. But in
cultivating artists, freedom of expression is primary. Yes,
expose them to all theories but let them filter it themselves
and let them express it in their own way. ‘Politically correct
lines’ should only be used in commissioned works as in
advertisements or company’s audio-visual presentations or
instructional materials.
I’ve always believed that directing films requires boldness
and bravery because it means putting your soul on the line.
And women starting from childhood have always been more
constrained from expressing themselves; among schoolage
children, teachers would always say how difficult boys
are unlike the girls who are obedient.
Women’s organisations generally put up women’s film
festivals to further their cause, but most times, I think, they
forget to take care of the artistes and their target audience.
They get too focussed on furthering the correct line when
the theoreticians among them are actually arguing among
themselves. And they end up marginalising themselves
from the majority.
Meanwhile, there are hardly any women film makers, and
hardly any materials, especially on sexuality as this is male
territory. I think there is a serious problem.
Stray Cats would later get into a lot of gay festivals abroad
but hardly any women’s festivals. We did apply in some
but hesitated in many others because fees could not be
waived, or if we were accepted, the filmmaker would have
to shoulder the shipping fees and her airfare. And there are
no cash awards either.
Researching festivals through the internet, I would find,
correct me if I’m wrong, that most women’s film festivals
worldwide have difficulty sustaining themselves because
they hardly get an audience. This is really disturbing and
needs serious reflection.
I believe the first agenda of women’s film festivals is to get
more women to use this medium to speak-up and to reach
out to as many women. Let a thousand flowers bloom and
let us have a discourse.
And how did the gay groups react?
We opened the Pink Film Festival in Manila in June 2005
to full audiences who laughed and embraced the film. The
gays, yes, they owned up. Often, they would say how they
kept on laughing but that inside, it was quite painful.
It would move on to receive the first feature award at
Frameline 30, the San Francisco LGBT film festival, the
oldest of its kind at 30 years, and the most attended, at
70,000 audience last year. It also received a $10,000 cash
reward.
It is presently going around various festivals, mostly LGBT.
It inked a contract with a U.S based distributor specializing
in LGBT films.
In the Philippines, gays embraced me and said they were so
happy to finally see their stories told, although there were
others who said, they are no longer like my character. They
are now executives!
Overall, it was great to be embraced by the LGBT
community.
Ellen at Frameline 30
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interview
interview
The story was meant to push
people to think out of the box.
So anything is possible. We
cannot put people in boxes and
stereotypes. The ambivalent
ending was a revelation.
Audiences made their own
interpretations based on what
they wanted to believe.
Do you feel the need to develop a
network to support your work?
How do you go about it?
Definitely, who doesn’t need a network? Especially an
independent filmmaker like me whose resources are very
limited compared to the whole infrastructure set-up of
major studios. There are various networks to work on –
from like-minded colleagues in cinema to co-advocates of
a cause. Unfortunately, cinema , as it is, cannot be dictated
upon by causes, issues, political lines or ideologies.
Organisations working on gender issues on the other hand
have their own political or ideological lines.
I was very happy with the FOD festival-conference because
this kind of gathering which embraces quite a large
perspective sets great possibility for networking. Imagine
organising that into one whole theatre circuit! That would
be a great service to both parties – the film maker-advocate
and the organised groups. But of course, at this point, as
was mentioned in one of the panels at Films of Desire, it
still is a struggle for some to see the power of film – to fund
it and yet not completely dictate on it! I like the dictum at
Frameline. ‘To change the world one movie at a time!’ It is
the same for networking.
What are the kinds of challenges
that you face as a filmmaker?
The main challenges are around content, funding and
distribution.
Content – In my previous work, I had always attempted to
situate my story within the broader socio-political context
in my country – the poverty, the political bankruptcy. Stray
Cats, however was strictly middle class and very urban.
That makes it seemingly limited but I did not try to make
it otherwise because I believe, the male-female-gay-divide
is first among all conflicts – even before class and racial
conflicts. That position, of course, is an issue of contention
even among women’s organisations where issues of
poverty, lack of education, health care, work opportunities
more often than not take greater concern. In any case, this
would have its consequence, in terms of ‘Filipino-ness’ and
maybe even box-office returns. Content is a major concern
specially considering the expense – even digital technology
is not cheap – and the effort. As an independent filmmaker,
my challenge is to go where the audience are, to look for
materials where I can meet them halfway.
Funding – Though cheaper than 35mm film, digital
filmmaking is still expensive. Where do you get funds
and yet not be dictated to? With mainstream producers,
box-office rules, dominant ideology rules, generally. With
cause-oriented organisations, the organisations’ ideologies
prevail, generally. With film grants, art rules, generally.
Stray Cats was possible because I asked my cast and staff
who represented all genders, to take part in the business
through equity-sharing. This way, not much cash was
needed. It was a labour of love and majority owned the
film in various percentages. I believe that in any attempt at
liberation, the business organisation behind the production
must be reviewed and revised.
Distribution – This is the greatest challenge because
definitely, mainstream business rules here. So, one always
plays a balancing act to fulfill mainstream requirements
somehow. One may believe there are many like-minded
people like oneself but are they organised in this level?
Films of Desire is one event where these organisations see
the importance of this medium. It is a good start, a great
possibility. The challenge for independent filmmakers with
the help of cultural and educational organisations and
institutions is to set up these alternative circuits.
What are your views on censorship?
Have you had problems with the
censors?
In the play, the female lead, during sex, would shout ‘Jesus,
Mary and Joseph’ during orgasm. I censored this myself
in the film. I did not want to court the Church’s ire, so
I opted to sacrifice that nuance. Religion, indeed, plays a
dominant role and it is always a constraint, a challenge,
to find ways to go around its powers to reach a wider
audience.
At the time that the film had its commercial run, the ‘bold’
films were no longer in. Previously, these films were either
given an X or labelled R-18 by the MTRCB (Movie and
Television’s Regulation and Classification Board). But more
than government intervention, it was private business
intervention that did them in. The owners of the biggest
chain of malls where 50% of cinema houses are located
banned R-18 films from their cinemas. They claim this
move was welcomed by their clientele.
Woe to us who wanted to handle more mature subject
matter or else risk your money and allow yourself to be
limited in audience reach. And so I opted to make my
cuts to get an R-13 rating. In defence I said sexuality is
most important during the adolescent years when they are
conscious of sexual identification and love, sex, and romance
become a major concern. It took a lot of convincing.
Pornography and censorship is a contentious issue. Airtime
spots would not be so expensive if it were not effective
in influencing consciousness and behaviour. The problem
with censorship is whose values will dominate? What age
is mature enough?
This is a matter of struggle for every society.
What are some of the things you
have learned that can help other
film makers use film as a tool for
intervention into social problems?
To intervene means: To see the problem and offer a
different perspective; to go where the people are and meet
them halfway; to give people the access to these tools for
communication; to allow those who take up the tool, the
film makers, to express themselves from their inner truths;
and, to aid in discourse and not just impose ideas. A film
that can touch hearts and minds and provoke discussion as
well, is the best tool for intervention.
Ellen at Films of Desire
MGA PUSANG GALA
(STRAY CATS)
Ellen Ongkeko-Marfil
115 min / Filipino, Tagalog & English with English
subtitles / 2005 / Philippines.
Stray Cats is an imaginative parody on adult romantic
relationships. Gay Boyet and straight Marta are
neighbours. Boyet writes romance novels inspired
by Marta’s idiosyncratic anxieties about Steve, her
noncommittal boyfriend. Marta is quietly envious of
Boyet’s ‘family’ — his adopted son, Jojo, a 15-year-old
pickpocket, and Dom, his financially dependent lover.
The film depicts how these two hopelessly romantic
friends negotiate for fair and equal treatment by their
respective lovers, and how eventually they both liberate
themselves from their ‘romantic traps’.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 22 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 23

my journey of emotions
my journey of emotions
films of desire
my journey of emotions
Vu Thanh Long
Away from the crowd, away from the noise, away from the
stress of work, I have spent a wonderful time at Neemrana
– a beautiful old Fort 120 kms from Delhi – where Films
of Desire was taking place.
Not being a filmmaker who brought his work, I could
totally be a viewer with all the freedom to pick up what to
see. Films of Desire was not just a film festival but a chance
for people who are working in completely different areas,
but on the same theme, sexuality, to meet and get to know
the work of each other and discuss ideas.
The films were all great, they brought to me all kinds of
feeling, introduced me to different cultures’ point of view
in regard to relationships, love, sex, and so on. There are so
many things I remember from the event, but most of all are
the films by Victric Thng, Nia Dinata, and Royston Tan.
LOCUST
Victric Thng
4 minutes / Cantonese with English subtitles / 2003 /
Singapore
A momentary encounter evokes both a sense of fondness
and bitterness of the heart. Moving and lyrical, the
film’s backdrop of Hong Kong heightens the emotive
narration. A poignant, poetic film about memory and
longing
Still from Locust
First on the list for me is Locust by Victric Thng. The film
was amazingly short – 4 minutes. Locust was just simply
amazing; it kept me holding my breath from the beginning
until the end. Lost in the crowd, there two young men
hugging, just forgetting about the noisy world around and
sharing a moment of love. Just within four minutes, Locust
brings a person from the sweetest of feelings to the moment
of one’s heart being broken. I wish I understood Cantonese
just to taste the mood of the film in the original. Everybody
will find the sentiment shown in Locust somewhere back in
their own memory. Love was never mentioned in the whole
film, but everything was covered with love, with all the
tenderness and sadness love can bring. No wonder Locust is
a multi-award winning film from festival to festival.
Victric Thng
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my journey of emotions
my journey of emotions
Still from Love for Share
Nia Dinata answering questions after screening the film
Now for the next one I really liked, Nia Dinata’s film. On
the bus to Neemrana, I had a few conversations with Nia
Dinata, a film maker from Indonesia, and got introduced
to her film Love for Share. A man with more than one wife,
what a good idea, I should go to Indonesia – that was my
first funny thought, and I thought about what I have known
about polygamy in Vietnam. Later, my decision to watch
Love for Share turned out to be a great choice. I’m not a
‘film person’ to say how cinematically it was filmed; but
in my eyes, it is absolutely a beautifully shot movie. Three
separate stories, three women from different classes of
society, share the same tragedy – sharing the husband with
some other women. The first story happened in a high-class
family. Salma, an educated woman, got surprised, angry,
and then finally accepted the fact that her husband had four
wives. The second story was about Siti, whose face I can
recognize somewhere from MTV, a young rural woman
tricked by a driver to become his third wife. And the last
story deals with Ming, a waitress at a roast duck restaurant
who later became the owner’s second wife in exchange
for money and housing. These three women, either living
their lives with acceptance or desperately struggling for
freedom, found their own solutions later on and did not
let themselves become victims to the situation. Nia, the
director, then told the story about the making of Love for
Share, about how she did all the visiting and interviews
with individuals who are living with polygamy, and how she
developed those real stories into one single film script. All
of these made me completely admire this working-mother
small Indonesian filmmaker.
At the closing ceremony, a hilarious short film Cut from
Royston Tan, one of Time Magazine’s 20 Asian heroes under
the age of 40. Cut was a hugely entertaining yet bitter look
at censorship in Singapore. I could not stop laughing with
all the cut listings and parodies. That was so true, and so …
Singaporean. Royston is a hero! I just wish there will be a
Vietnamese version of Cut someday.
BERBAGI SUAMI
Love for Share
Nia Dinata
120 minutes / Bahasa Indonesia with English subtitles
/ 2006 / Indonesia
The film is an intriguing portrait of polygamous
lifestyles in different classes and ethnic backgrounds
in contemporary Jakarta. A gynaecologist, Salma,
discovers, to her shock, that her husband has taken a
second wife. Salma shuts her world; she lives in denial.
Until one day, her husband gets a heart attack and
become bed ridden. Salma has to face the other wives
on a regular basis since all the wives thrive to offer
attention for the sick man. Siti, a country girl, realises
too late that her uncle, who has moved her to Jakarta,
promising to send her to beauty school, has other
intentions. She finds herself living in a polygamous
household of her own uncle. The notion of three
women living under one roof and serving one husband
itself constantly disturbs her. Her hope for survival rests
in her growing intimacy with one of his other wives.
Ming, a waitress, contrives to become her Catholic
boss’ second wife. The lives of these three women from
three different social classes and ethnic backgrounds
intersect as the similarities in their stories are revealed.
The film deals with polygamy: sharing a husband’s
love and attention with several other women. The
film reveals their troubles and internal conflicts. In
their course of finding the answers to their problems,
sometimes they meet with each other without even
realizing that they share a similar story.
http://www.berbagisuami.com/
Vu Thanh Long is a young researcher at the Institute for
Social Development Studies (ISDS), Hanoi – Vietnam. His
work is mainly on HIV/AIDS, Sexuality and Reproductive
Health.
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films for social change
films for social change
films for social change:
possibilities
and perils
Beth Martin
Bishakha Datta
In the late 80’s I was a student at the New School for Social
Research in New York pursuing a non-traditional degree
titled Art, Culture and Society and taking such courses as
the Blackness of Blackness, Art and Politics in Thatcher’s
England, History of American Radicalism, Human Rights
and the Politics of Violence in Latin America, and Sexuality
and Representation. I remember fondly spending class
time viewing and discussing such films as Tongues Untied,
Daughters of the Dust, Young Soul Rebels, and Sammy and
Rosie Get Laid. Those were the good old days when I had
the fantastic opportunity to explore the intersections of
gender, race, class, and, sexuality and how they are shaped
by media, art, and culture. For whatever reason, as a white,
middle class, and at the time heterosexually identified
woman, from a politically right-wing family, I was filled
with rage at social injustice and enamoured with the idea
of political art. The New School, a university shaped by the
commitment of artists and intellectuals, many of whom
were exiled from Europe during the rise of Hitler and
Mussolini, was the perfect place to be.
Now, over a decade and a half later, having been estranged
from my early passions for the role of art and culture
in social change, but still strongly committed to social
justice, I’ve found myself at the Films of Desire event and
very excited about the panel discussion ‘Films for Social
Interventions.’
Bishakha Datta, documentary filmmaker and writer, and
Joanna Kerr, former Executive Director of the Association
for Women’s Rights in Development (AWID) now
working independently, presented particularly salient
points regarding the role of film in social change. Having
been a feminist activist and member of AWID for many
years, I was looking forward to hearing Joanna, who has
contributed so much to the global movement for women’s
human rights. I had become disillusioned with the work
I had been doing for the past several years, primarily in
conflict-affected settings addressing war-related violence
against women, which can leave one feeling bleak about
the possibilities for positive social change.
I was equally intrigued by what I had learned about
Bishakha’s work as Program Director with Point of View,
an organisation that aims to promote women’s perspectives
through media, art and culture, particularly because of
my earlier interests in art, culture and social change. The
presentations by Bishakha and Joanna explored both the
possibilities as well as the challenges of using film for the
purpose of social interventions.
Joanna posed interesting questions: How does change
happen? What is the role of film in influencing change in
relations, actions and behaviours? She highlighted the fact
that several recent films have had tremendous impact in
both changing public opinion as well as policy at the national
and international levels. Fahrenheit 9/11 and An Inconvenient
Joanna Kerr
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films for social change
films for social change
Truth are perhaps the most
notable in the global scope
of their impact. The Accused,
which Joanna described as
highly contentious, depicted a
graphic scene of Jodie Foster
being gang-raped in a bar. This
film had a tremendous impact
in that people reinterrogated
their understandings of
violence against women. Such
films as Brokeback Mountain and
Transamerica 2 have created
space for the mainstream
to, in an era inhospitable
to gay rights, engage with
these issues. Despite these
successes, she underscored
that film is often underutilised
by social movements with
organisations relying not only
on two-dimensional media
such as the dreaded newsletter
(which Joanna is on a mission
to eradicate!) but also, and
perhaps worse, propaganda
which does not allow space
for dialogue around issues and
results in compromised credibility.
As an example of how a social change organisation can
utilise digital media at a low cost, Joanna presented a short
digital film created by AWID about women’s visions for
the future to be presented at a conference of about 1800
feminist activists, most of whom were the talking heads of
organisations. The film, which was a dynamic series of brief
interview clips with and images of feminists worldwide,
was an example of how issues can be presented in an
engaging and thought-provoking way, rather than the usual
bland rhetoric of an activist on a soap box. The purpose of
the film was to provide an opportunity for voices, which
wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity to be heard at
the event, to create debate through documentary film and
provide a structure for conference participants to engage
While roles,
responsibilities and
resulting intentions
of social workers
or rights activists
and filmmakers or
artists may differ, it is
important to reflect
on some of the
concerns, challenges
and contradictions
that arise when
considering the role
of art or film in
influencing social
change.
meaningfully with each other
afterwards.
What an inspiration – as an
activist, one does not need a
filmmaking degree to create
affordable and effective
films for the purposes of
communicating ideas and
promoting dialogue. Just as
I was about to get lost in my
fantasies of going back in time
– returning to past jobs, tearing
up all of the really crappy
so-called behaviour change
communication materials we
had struggled to create for
the purposes of eradicating
(!) child marriage or domestic
violence – and putting digital
video cameras in the hands of
the communities where we
worked, and posing relevant
questions, Bishakha reminded
us of some cautionary tales.
While roles, responsibilities
and resulting intentions of
social workers or rights activists and filmmakers or artists
may differ, it is important to reflect on some of the concerns,
challenges and contradictions that arise when considering
the role of art or film in influencing social change. Bishakha
reminded us of the darker legacy of political art – for
example, Leni Riefenstahl made extremely powerful films
that could be seen as aesthetically stunning, but they were
commissioned by Hitler and glorified Nazi Germany.
More recently, in India, the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, a
Hindu fundamentalist organisation of which the Bharatiya
Janta Party (BJP) is a political ally, commissioned a film,
Bhaye Prakat Kripala, which is another example of powerful
Hindu nationalist propaganda.
Regardless of the politics of a film, Bishakha raised a critical
question as a filmmaker: Am I treating my audience as
adults or children? In propaganda the filmmaker does not
allow viewers to think for themselves, but rather asserts a
particular point of view by presenting only information that
reinforces the propaganda. In her introductory remarks,
Bishakha spoke of the tension between her two ‘identities’
– documentary filmmaker and director of an organisation
that uses media, art and culture to create social change.
Certainly, as a filmmaker she is not interested in wearing
the cloak of the propagandist. ‘I resist placing myself in the
box of a film maker who works explicitly for social change.
I make films to express what I feel about something, to
tell a story that interests me.’ Yet, in her work with Point
of View, she is very intentionally trying to promote social
change through the use of film.
For the artist who is committed to social change, an
exploration of the tensions between art and politics is
necessary. Point of View has hosted the women’s film festival
‘Made by Women’ to promote women film makers’ visions
and perspectives – clearly a political event. Bishakha and
her colleagues struggle with the following questions while
selecting the films: ‘What is it that we want to promote
about women’s visions? Do we want to promote something
that we ourselves feel? Do we want to showcase work
that we feel is politically important but cinematically not
significant?’ They have found that the best way to represent
women’s visions is to showcase films that are cinematically
significant. Otherwise, they
run the risk of people coming
and critiquing the work of
women as second rate. It’s
quite an interesting paradox
that the political impact of the
event is greater when the films
are selected for their cinematic
significance rather than their
political message.
So then, can a film be
interesting, tell a story, make
us think, and possibly, in some
measurable way promote
change? Bishakha argues that
film is a medium through
What is it that we
want to promote
about women’s
visions? . . . Do we
want to showcase
work that we feel is
politically important
but cinematically not
significant?
which ideas are changed, and changing ideas contributes
to social change – thus social change may be a by-product.
And, the film maker does not necessarily have to begin
with the intention of changing ideas. Indeed, there are
numerous examples of films – powerful and moving – that
do change the ways people think about themselves, their
relationships and the world. While they may not result
in large-scale shifts in policy or public opinion, they do
have an impact. In addition to the films mentioned by
Joanna, Bishakha offered Babel as an example of a film
that encourages people to think about clashes of cultures
and Manjuben Truck Driver which challenges the audience
to reconsider gender norms. Films of Desire screened
countless films that prompted me, and I’m sure many
other participants, to reflect, interrogate, and, yes, change
our attitudes, beliefs, behaviours. Certainly a prerequisite
for social change is transformation at the individual level,
so one attitude at a time, films do make an impact.
With the increasing accessibility of digital video and
information and communication technologies, more
and more people are making films which are receiving
increased viewership through the internet. Bishakha argues
that putting video into the hands of people who would
otherwise not have the opportunities for their voices to
be heard is perhaps one of the most positive developments
regarding creating films for social change in the past decade.
She highlighted the work of
Video Sewa, an organisation
based in Ahmedabad, which
has done just that. Working
with a union of women
working in the informal sector,
Video Sewa has undertaken
such interesting projects as
making a film to communicate
the concerns of workers in the
Ahmedabad Municipal Market.
The video provided a unique
opportunity for the women
to voice their concerns to the
Municipal Commissioner of
Ahmedabad. Such projects
do not require an outside
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films for social change
review
filmmaker to come in, but
rather the video cameras are
in the hands of the women
themselves.
Being interviewed and video
recorded by a peer is very
different than by an outsider.
The relationship is to a great
extent equalised and more
likely based on pre-established
trust.
Again, if only I could go back in
time to the camps of displaced
persons in Darfur – where
so often the foreign journalist sweeps into town seeking
to interview a rape survivor! Indeed such video projects
based on self-representation have tremendous potential.
Certainly a
prerequisite for
social change is
transformation at
the individual level,
so one attitude at a
time, films do make an
impact.
On a larger scale, in the short
two years that I have been in
India, I’ve certainly noticed
shifts in public discourse
on gender, sexuality and
representation. There have
been a number of film festivals
and other cultural events that
have created space for the
voices of sexual and gender
minorities that have resulted
in a ripple effect through
print, television and radio
media. Although there is the
rising tide of nationalist and
fundamentalist ideologies
reacting to and resisting these ripples here as well as in my
country and the rest of the world, there are also thriving
opposition movements.
the multiple readings of
last full show
Alvin S. Concha, MD
Again, with greater access to the media and the expanding
virtual world comes greater potential for increased
viewership (although I can’t say the camps for displaced
people in Darfur are not home to internet cafes). One of
the challenges for film makers and activists is reaching a
wider audience. In terms of films for social change, perhaps
the problem is that we’re falling into the trap of creating
propaganda rather than film that challenges people to think
without forcing rhetoric on them. Bishakha stated, ‘I don’t
think we can create social change unless we’re talking
outside the circle of the converted.’ These points are
reinforced by Joanna who stated that activists, by tending
to create propaganda, limit their scope to people already
within a particular movement and that communicating
across movements is necessary.
Although the Films of Desire event itself was communicating
within a particular circle, with a group of people already
open to challenging social norms about gender and sexuality
and how it is represented in film, I do think it succeeded in
contributing to social change. The individuals present were
likely to have changed ideas and will have returned to their
respective countries and work sharing their experiences
with others.
The kind of change that Films of Desire may have been
promoting, although we may not always see it, is taking
place. And on a personal level, I’ve been reunited with
my old passion for exploring and transforming multiple
oppressions through art and culture, and that passion has
been enriched by the shared experience of viewing and
discussing powerful films from South and Southeast Asia.
Beth Martin received a B.A. in Art, Culture and Society
from the New School for Social Research (New York, USA)
and a Master’s in Social Welfare from the University of New
England (Maine, USA). She has over ten years of experience
working on issues of gender equality, sexual rights, violence,
immigration, and mental health in Sudan, Sierra Leone,
Ghana, Nigeria, and the United States with local, national and
international organisations. Currently she is the Programme
Manager of the Expanding Discourses Initiative at CREA in
New Delhi, India.
Filipino love story movies are notoriously lengthy, but this
one was able to depict a romantic relationship in a relatively
short time. A couple of comments on this film in YouTube
talk about the shortness of the film. I am of the belief
that, in 18 minutes, filmmaker Mark V. Reyes has already
succeeded in laying down the emotional and political aims
of this movie, Last Full Show (2005).
Set in Manila, the film follows the sexuality exploration
of Crispin, a rich teenaged boy who goes to school with
a chauffeur. In a dark old movie house frequented by men
who seek out sex with other men, thirty-something Gardo,
a regular in the place, approaches Crispin, who has managed
to enter the theatre unaccompanied by the chauffeur. In
a very short time after they meet, the two passionately
kiss each other on the lips, the kiss being the film maker’s
rendering of the start of a sexual relationship.
What follows are cinematic sequences which portray
Crispin and Gardo’s affair, so carefully edited as to weave
a romantic love story at one level and to suggest a steamy
sexual liaison at another.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 32 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 33

eview
review
The blossoming bond is severely
opposed by Jess, Gardo’s friend,
who points out that the situation
might lead to the detriment of
Crispin’s studies and that the
relationship is something that
might cause Gardo to end up in
jail, Crispin being a minor. Gardo
doesn’t want to listen to any of
Jess’s warnings. Crispin, on the
other hand, manifests profound
love by filling a wide corkboard
in his room with movie tickets,
presumably those which he bought
for his trysts with Gardo. Another lightly.
picturesque sequence shows the
lovers enjoying an airy ride while
hanging from the back of a jeepney. After the ride, Crispin
agrees with Gardo that riding a jeepney is fun and that he
doesn’t need a chauffeured car anymore.
LAST FULL SHOW is set
in a serious mood.
As the relationship intensifies, Crispin gives Gardo a
precious necklace, a family heirloom. When Bert, Crispin’s
suspecting chauffer, learns about the gift, he cunningly
intervenes, one night, by preventing Gardo from going
inside the movie house where Crispin desperately waits for
his lover. The film closes with a sequence trailing Crispin
getting out of the movie house after waiting for Gardo to
no avail. ‘I want to go home,’ Crispin tells Bert. The very
last scene shows a striking radiance produced by the front
lights of Crispin’s car.
The liberal use of verbal and visual metaphors helps in
deriving multiple meanings from the movie’s sequences.
In the film, ‘dance’ is used to suggest sex. ‘Soup’ is used to
refer to the soup that Crispin and Gardo are having at their
favorite restaurant, and to the body fluids they exchange
during sex. Similarly, a cock-fighting scene can be taken as
it is or, because the conversational context of the scene is
right after Gardo and Crispin were supposed to have sex,
can be read as a metaphor for male-male sex, ‘cock-tocock’,
as it were.
There have been many depictions of male-male
relationships within Filipino movies before, which are of
This is one of very few
Filipino films that deal
with the intricacies
of male-male love in a
rather demanding way.
The audience has to
confront the issues
without taking them
the comedy genre. It is common,
for instance, to watch a sequence
wherein a father slaps his son’s butt
or pinches his ear after catching the
son flirting with another boy. With
the son letting out an exaggerated
scream of pain and a musical score
that lends a side-splitting mood to
the scene, the father’s moralising
manoeuvres over his son’s sexuality
are successfully delivered for the
spectators to easily shelve as just
another slapstick rendition within
the movie. The audience is almost
always compelled to laugh, allowing
the scene a non-confrontational
way of presenting male-male sexual
attraction and dismissing the grim issue of external forces
intervening in personal desires. But Last Full Show is set
in a serious mood. This is one of very few Filipino films
that deal with the intricacies of male-male love in a rather
demanding way. The audience has to confront the issues
without taking them lightly.
The first few sequences of the film illustrate Bert’s role
in Crispin’s life. He not only chauffeurs Crispin, but
also stands as the boy’s physical (and, eventually, moral)
guardian. Bert’s sly intervention during the film’s climax,
therefore, serves as a metaphor for heterosexist society
that constantly tries to police ‘non-conforming’ sexual
relationships. There was no actual confrontation between
Crispin and Bert, and yet Crispin felt so uneasy, and guilty,
after the driver intervened in the relationship.
One wonders whether the conclusion can be read in
different ways. For one, Bert, who takes on a heterosexist
deportment was depicted as a devious antagonist, especially
during his confrontation with Gardo. In a sense, the film
also effectively demonises the heterosexist and ekes out a
subversive stance of celebrating male-male love.
And so, despite putting up a climactic sequence
that emphasises Bert’s adamant efforts at ending the
relationship, Reyes leaves us with generous space to create
several closures from which we may choose. At face value,
‘I want to go home’ may signify
Crispin’s self-policing: ‘I give
up and I want to go back to
my old hetero-normative,
anti-paedophilic standards of
affection’. Yet, considering the
foreshadowed room of Crispin,
where he keeps a corkboardful
of movie tickets, ‘I want to go
home’ may also mean ‘I want to
return to where I can muse over
positive emotions, in my room,
which is a haven of everything
that reminds me of my love for
Gardo’. Furthermore, bearing
in mind the poignant image of
a very bright light (metaphor
for a ‘bright idea’) during the
last few seconds of the film, the
ending may also mean ‘I want to
go home… Hmmm, I have an
idea: I will take the jeepney next
time.’
The last sequence ultimately
highlights Reyes’ genius, as well
as his authentic trust for the film
spectators to derive their own
meanings out of the film, as if to
say: ‘Choose your own politics’.
Alvin Concha is a medical
doctor specialising in Family and
Community Medicine. He works
in Davao Regional Hospital in
the Philippines as a clinical and
research consultant. He also heads
the Human Resources and Training
Unit of the same hospital. He is
currently completing a Master’s
course in Applied Social Research,
Major in Gender Studies.
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interview
interview
the
pornographic imagination
Richard Fung at a panel with Shohini Ghosh, Ranjani Mazumdar and Helen Hok-Sze Leung
Pornography seems to always provoke a reaction in most
people. Not the same reaction, because people have such
different ideas about it – some look horrified while others
get a peculiar gleam in their eyes. There are those who
think it should be banned outright, others who think it
should only be viewed by people like themselves (and not
by the great unwashed masses because who knows what
might result), and yet others who say ‘What’s the big deal?
Let those who want to watch it, watch it. People have a
right to see what they want and to express themselves’.
So it was very useful to listen to what Richard Fung had
to say about pornography at Films of Desire. Richard is
Associate Professor in the Integrated Media program
at the Ontario College of Art and Design. He is a world
renowned video artist, writer and public intellectual. He
has received the Bell Canada Award for Video as well as
the Toronto Arts Award for Media Art. He lives in Toronto,
Canada. Of Chinese origin, his family comes from Trinidad
in the Caribbean.
Because pornography is such a contentious issue, Richard
preferred to focus on his own work and his relationship
with pornography, instead of talking about theories. He did
this by offering three ways of locating the issue: What is
porn? What is the context? What is the difference between
gay porn and heterosexual porn?
The first question is much tossed around in arguments
about pornography and erotica. Richard said the answer
is quite simple, according to Richard Dyer, a British film
scholar, who defines it as ‘pornography is work whose
principle purpose is to incite sexual arousal’. Now as it
so happens, films arouse all sorts of bodily reactions – we
laugh, we cry, we get excited, but in the body-mind split,
the body is always relegated to some lower status, and so,
it’s important to keep that in mind when we think about
porn films.
It is also important to think about context because in
each of our locales we have different histories, ways of
understanding terms, and political debates. At the same
time there is an intermingling of the local with the global.
Globalisation is not something happening ‘elsewhere’ but
is happening here, wherever one is.
Richard’s work on porn has been mainly on gay pornography
and the kinds of depictions in gay porn and the debates
around them are very different from those around
heterosexual pornography. The issues of spectatorship in
these two kinds of porn are also quite different. In the
People use porn in
different ways and
one of the things
that gets lost
in debates about
censorship, is that
porn is about fantasy.
It exists in a space of
fantasy and fantasy
positions that people
take on, that may
have nothing to do
with one’s life. And
that is why, without
suggesting that is
the ideal, porn offers
a certain kind of
freedom.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 36 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 37

interview
interview
For many of them gay
porn was the only
place where they found
an affirmation of their
sexual desire. At the
same time, the images
were only of white
men. So in a way the
Asian men were being
undermined by not
being seen as worthy of
sexual desire.
mid 1990s when Richard was organising gay Asian men
in Canada who were immigrants, he found that their
relationship to gay porn was ambivalent. For many of
them gay porn was the only place where they found an
affirmation of their sexual desire. At the same time, the
images were only of white men. So in a way the Asian men
were being undermined by not being seen as worthy of
sexual desire. At the same time, if you criticised gay porn
or gay male culture, it was seen as homophobia. Looking
more carefully, Richard did find porn with images of Asian
men, but they were placed in an oriental context, again for
the white male viewer. In video stores, porn videos were to
be found on the Asian shelf, Latino shelf, Black shelf , etc.
Today there is no such categorisation.
Richard pointed out that there is very little inter-racial sex
in gay pornography. Today, there are many sites for porn on
the Internet, including sites Asian sites, Latino sites etc. It
shows that Asians or Latinos are being eroticised but that
is like making it equivalent to having a sort of sexualised
taste, it is not really about addressing questions of race or
culture. Multiculturalism has still not come to porn.
Richard also spoke about using pornography as pedagogy,
especially now that AIDS has made it critical to talk about
sexuality and safer sex. He gave the example of how he
made a safer sex porn tape for the Gay Men’s Health Crisis
(GMHC), a major AIDS organisation in New York, to make
condoms ‘sexy’. In this film, an East Asian man, a Chinese
Canadian man and a South Asian man have sex together
using safer sex practices. What was interesting was that in
discussions with gay Asian men about how they use porn,
Richard discovered that just because they demanded to be
included in porn, did not mean that they were turned on
by seeing people who looked like them. A film does not
exist just by itself – it is what we bring to viewing it and
how we interpret it that gives it a certain meaning. He gave
the example of his lesbian room-mate who looked at gay
male porn while having sex with her girlfriend. Because
there were no power relationship issues involved for her
in her viewing gay male porn, it turned her on. People use
porn in different ways and one of the things that gets lost
in debates about censorship, is that porn is about fantasy. It
exists in a space of fantasy and fantasy positions that people
take on, that may have nothing to do with one’s life. And
that is why, without suggesting that is the ideal, porn offers
a certain kind of freedom.
Currently there is very little debate about porn in Canada,
probably because of three main reasons. There is a strong
anti-censorship movement led by artists, film makers
and intellectuals. Toronto is also home to the Toronto
International Film Festival which is a big tourist attraction,
and the film festival director managed to ensure that the
films to be screened did not need censorship certificates
as long as everyone in the audience was over 18 years old,
because he made a case that one did not need a license
to show films to artists. The third reason was quite ironic.
Under the Butler Decision, the government could not ban
material for being sexually explicit, but could ban material
that could cause harm, primarily with a view to protect
women and children. The very first thing the government
banned was a lesbian magazine called ‘On Our Backs’. It
was ironic because lesbians are not usually regarded as a
danger to women and children. This act by the government
revealed how it follows its own internal logic and cannot
really be trusted.
Richard’s final point was about the term ‘onscenity’ coined
by Linda Williams, a major scholar of anthropology. She
made up this term in relation to ‘obscenity’. Obscenity, is
about things one is not supposed to speak about – so it
has a sense of being ‘off-stage’. Onscenity refers to those
acts or expressions of sexuality that are forced out into the
open by the popular media, like the sexual escapades of
celebrities or political leaders; they are willy-nilly brought
on-scene. Thus the unspeakable and the speakable come
to meet, albeit with varying degrees of tension, which is
what we are seeing is happening in many public discussions
about sexuality in contemporary society.
It was enlightening to hear Richard speak. Most talks
about pornography are usually about whether it should or
should not be banned. Rarely do they discuss pornography
Richard Fung
‘if you are going to
look at pornography
thinking that you are
going to get spiritual
upliftment, that’s really
where the problem
begins.’
as a genre or type of film that belongs to a family with
shared characteristics (like action films, or horror films
or comedy). Therefore they do not raise questions about
how race is depicted or whether viewers identify with
the content or not, or even how porn may be used as an
educational tool.
As Shohini Ghosh, another major film scholar summed it
up, ‘If you like to watch action films, comedy, detective
films, pornography, or you like to see spiritual discourses
then you go with certain kinds of expectations. You are
getting something out of it whether it is spiritual upliftment
or an erection. It depends on what you are really looking
for. But if you are going to look at pornography thinking
that you are going to get spiritual upliftment, that’s really
where the problem begins.’ Need one say more?
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 38 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 39

tan’s uncut list
tan’s uncut list
Tan’s unCut list
of fine
Singaporean
incisions
Namita Malhotra
Royston Tan’s film Cut is a highly acclaimed short film on
censorship that was made in defiance of the 27 cuts that
Tan’s previous film 15 was subjected to. In this short
satirical musical, a censor board official in Singapore meets
her biggest fan in the supermarket. The fan goes into a
rhapsody over the sheer artistry and brilliance of her cuts
that have changed the narratives of remarkably violent
and/or sexual films like Swimming Pool, Hong Kong’s Purple
Storm, Scratch, and, Intimacy, to benign films that resemble
sappy greeting cards.
Debates around censorship are often configured between
the State and the film maker, overlooking the ubiquitous
censor board official, and this short film brings to the
forefront the figure of the censor board official, her or his
tastes, interests and facets of her personality. When Tan’s
film 15 was subjected to the surgical trauma of multiple
cuts by the censor board, Tan made Cut – a vicious stab
at the Singapore censorship regime, which is brilliantly
ironical and funny.
A censorship regime necessarily implies that a small group
of people, whether smirking judges, rule-making legislators
or fastidious censor board officials can determine what the
public can watch. Tan’s film plays with the idea of the fantasy
of the regulatory authorities to be adored and appreciated
for their work. In a world where the film makers are creative
rebels, the iconoclasts, and the brilliant visionaries, how
come we don’t notice the ubiquitous spectacled censor
board official watching films with a hungry passion and a
ready scissor to do snippety snip with, while still keeping a
coherent narrative?
The chance meeting between the uptight official and the
geeky fan begins with the fan exclaiming – ‘You know,
I’m your biggest fan. I know every cut you’ve made in the
history of cinema.’ This short film uses contemporary pop
songs and ballads, like Thank you for the music (Thank you
to the censors), and is packed with kitschy dance numbers.
The fan then proceeds to list a remarkably long list of cuts.
‘There were two cuts in Titanic, two in Swimming Pool, one
in City of God, and the most important scene was cut in Y tu
mama tambien….’ and the seemingly never ending list goes
on and on.
Tan’s list of fine incisions made by the Singaporean
censorship authorities, has the sheer fantastical quality of
Borges’ list of animals found in a Chinese encyclopedia,
that include animals that are ‘i) frenzied, j) innumerable, k)
drawn with a very fine camel hair brush’ and oddly would
never belong together, and only meet in the space of the
making of such a list, or as Foucault says, in the non-space
of language.
One of the particularly arch comments made to the stoic
censor board official in Cut is about her cuts in Chicago
to remove references to pussy in the songs, and how the
censor board ‘took on a new challenge to display their
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 40 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 41

tan’s uncut list
tan’s uncut list
musical skills, and even Andrew Lloyd Webber cannot reedit
his songs the way you can’. And, of course, to ask,
whether her husband is also cut.
An obvious parallel in the Indian context is the 21 cuts that
Anand Patwardhan was asked to make by the Central Board
of Film Certification (CBFC) in his film War and Peace. The
list contains scenes like:-
Cut 1 ‘Delete the visuals of Gandhiji being shot by
Nathuram Godse’
Cut 5 ‘Delete the commentary “BJP is faced with growing
criticism” ’
Cut 7 ‘Delete the entire sequence, visuals and dialogues
spoken by dalit leaders including all references to Lord
Buddha’
Cut 8 ‘Delete the reference to BJP uttered by villager’
Cut 11 ‘Delete the visual of ‘Hindu rath’
Cut 21. GENERAL CUT ‘Delete the entire visuals and
dialogues of all political leaders, including President,
Prime Minister and Ministers’
Though Cut seems relevant to most countries where there
is a censorship regime, it is particularly relevant in India,
because of the existence of pre-censorship of cinema, in
contrast to either television or books. In Cut, the bewildered
fan asks of the censor board official – ‘But who looks after
your moral welfare. How do you resist the temptation to
become a call girl, when you watch the uncut version of
Chicago, a drug addict when you watch Trainspotting or
a lesbian after Boys don’t Cry, or a serial killer when you
watch the Japanese film Battle Royale.’
Inspite of the fact that Tan’s film is a vitriolic response
to the regime in Singapore, it actually makes a far more
complicated argument about censorship than the accepted
model of viewing it as a prohibition on freedom of speech
and expression. Annette Kuhn’s work on censorship makes
the argument that to look at censorship as a prohibitive
gesture of power, ‘does not go far enough, and may actually
inhibit our understanding of how, and with what effects, the
powers involved in film censorship work’. A prohibition/
institutions model of viewing censorship does not allow
us to see that the law is not just interested in prohibiting
a certain kind of seeing, but also equally interested in
suggesting a proper way of seeing. Censorship has to be
understood as power that emerges in concrete sets of
relations, rather than an institutional privilege. Thus, in
this case, it is far more useful to view censorship not so
much as the imposition of rules on a preconstituted entity
(a cinematographic film), but as an ongoing process of
constituting objects from and for its own practices.
Kuhn’s work on the productive discourse of censorship
and Foucault’s work on reconceptualising power provides
a way to look at censorship not in terms of prohibition or
erasure, but that censorship depends on the production of
a range of effects. One instance is the creation of the ideal
viewer who has to be discursively crafted. All regulatory
fantasies of censorship authorities are played out with
this imaginary viewer in mind, with the State adopting
many roles, of Benevolent Daddies protecting an infantile
vulnerable viewer (parens patriae), of avuncular authorities
investigating the nature of the viewer, or as Nurturing
Nannies (as Tan’s film describes) trying to circumscribe
the world that the viewer is exposed to. In the end, the
abstract viewer in law and policy, is mostly mobilised as a
category of regulation. The abstract viewer is made more
intelligible through legal and juridical discourses that allow
for classification and administration of the public/viewer
by regulatory authorities. It is perhaps ironical that it is the
legal and juridical fantasy of sexual deviance, violence, and
depravity that would result from the untrammelled flow
of cinema, is what allows for the creation of the precise
fantasy of disciplined public in a theatre watching films in
an orderly fashion.
Regulation and censorship works beyond the rather limited
role of making cuts in films, as much as to constitute ideal
viewers, rather than ideal or even watchable films.
Kuhn’s argument is that censorship is often viewed as a
blackening out of moments that can then not reach the
viewer, but that instead we should find discursive modes to
talk about film censorship that takes into account allegedly
diverse phenomena. Tan’s film is one way of finding a
discursive mode to talk about film censorship that takes
into account the State-produced discourse around nation
building, moral panics around sexuality, spatial anxieties
over exhibition and theatre spaces, legal dilemmas around
piracy and copyright. Cut absurdly invests the process of
censorship with creativity, and instead of erasure through
censorship, in fact, makes it seem as if a wholly different
film is possible. The fan exclaims to the censor board official
– ‘In the acclaimed film Eight Women, cut one woman, so
there are seven women only’. The notion of a productive
discourse on censorship, is creatively explored in Tan’s film,
where instead of an erasure, censorship leads to a range
of effects in a riotous colourful conversation about films,
pumped up remixed songs and synchronized dancing.
The most blasphemous tongue-in-cheek moment in the
film, is when the geeky fan tells the official that the Pirates
Association is eternally grateful, because the huge amount
of cuts by the Board, has led to an incredible jump of 60%
increase in their sales. Perhaps that is the contradictory
reality that all regulatory mechanisms have to face these
days, the leak of information regardless of control, in bits
and bytes into various modes of circulation to eventually
lead viewers into seeing what they want.
Donna Harraway’s Cyborg Manifesto, talks about the
creation of an ironic political myth that is faithful to
feminism, socialism and materialism. And, in the context
of film censorship, Tan’s film Cut uses irony as ‘a rhetorical
strategy and a political method’, that is about ‘humour and
serious play’. As the geeky fan sings in Tan’s film – ‘Thank
you to the censors, for the scenes you’re chopping, for all
the crimes you’re stopping . So thank you, Madam Censor,
for saving our country’.
Namita Malhotra is a media practitioner and legal
researcher at the Alternative Law Forum in Bangalore,
India. She works on issues of media censorship, media
laws, intellectual property, and open content. She teaches
a course on Rethinking Media Laws at a women’s college
and has conducted sessions for the Censor Board of India
(the southern region) on the tangled history of censorship
and cinema.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 42 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 43

interview
interview
Michael Shaowanasai
Michael Shaowanasai is a Thai artiste and actor. His
works include performance art, photography, video,
film and installations. He graduated from the School
of Law at Chulalongkorn University in 1985, earned
a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts degree at the San Francisco
Art Institute in 1994 and a Master’s of Fine Arts from
the Art Institute of Chicago in 1996. Michael is a
founding member of Project 304, a Bangkok-based
contemporary art group. Among his more provocative
works are Welcome to My Land ... Come and Taste the
Paradise, an installation and performance by Project
304 in Bangkok and Fresh Young Boys’ Semen for Sale,
a performance on Patpong in Bangkok. Among his film
and video works is the 2003 feature film, The Adventure
of Iron Pussy, which he co-directed with Apichatpong
Weerasethakul. Michael portrayed the title character, a
transvestite Thai secret agent whose alter ego is a gay
male 7-Eleven clerk. The film was screened at several
festivals, including the Tokyo International Film Festival,
the Berlin Film Festival, the Melbourne International Film
Festival, and had a limited commercial run in a Bangkok
cinema and a DVD release in Thailand.
How did you begin the work that
you are doing now?
I am an artiste and have been active in the international
art scene since 1997. I included film as one of my media
in college at the San Francisco Art Institute of Chicago.
It is not new that artistes make film and video, but it is
regarded as ‘art stuff’, hard to understand and such like.
Crossing back and forth is fun. It makes your edges sharp
and it’s fun to push the envelope and ‘mess’ with tradition.
That is the name of my game.
Tell us how you became a film maker
and an actor. Was it easy? Did you
have to struggle?
It is fun to sit in the director’s chair. But I do not like it if it
is for a big long project, shorter ones are better. Directing
is only for a ‘non lazy’ person which I am not. I have told
the audiences that I am not ‘in love’ with cinema like other
directors. I ‘like’ it. I like it very much. Will I stick with it
forever? No! I have other things to do in life. I am a learning
actor. I have a lot to learn. I need cash.
Acting is fun, particularly for Iron Pussy. She is my own
character. I know her inside out. It is a walk in the park.
Well, my co-director tried his utmost to make it most
difficult for me. Not that he does not like me; he knew that
there was more I could give to the film.
I have acted in other films and with other directors as well.
Not all gay or woman characters. It is fun but I know that
I have a lot to learn to be a better actor. I take parts that
will challenge me and that at the same time I am sure that I
can do. When you mess with other people’s money and the
mass appeal, I have to be an ‘ actor’ with the touch of an
artiste. So, the orders shifted. I like it.
How was the experience of
working on The Adventure of
Iron Pussy which is so out
of the ordinary? Did you
expect a lot of resistance
from people?
It is not at all out of the ordinary.
If the film was made 40 years
ago, it would be the norm even
with me as the main character.
The time has shifted. My
director has made Iron Pussy
as a homage to Thai cinema
from the 50s to the 60s. It
was in the period that I was
growing up and watched films. I
was thrilled that he came along and chose this route.
The audiences all over the world that are 40 and 40+
related to it in a click!
Michael Shaowanasai
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 44 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 45

interview
interview
Resistance? Of course, the film was yanked out of the first
Bangkok international film festival for the reason that it is
not a ‘film’ but in the same breath it was nominated at the
Berlinale for the Gay and Lesbian film award. It was a big
slap in the face for Bangkok. Audiences love the film but it
is the stone in the shoe of Thai film business people. You see
we are independent film makers, we have no share in the
market. They do not like the new comer or the changes. We
got nodded for the award but got shot down last minute. It
was fun for me to be the stone in somebody shoes!
What was the general reaction to
this movie from the audience and
more particularly with your friends
and family members?
No one really hates it. The ones that hate it, do not
understand the concept. And the ones who like it will
defend it for me. I am blessed.
No one really knows how to support my works. If they like
it (that is if they understand it), I am screwed! If they do
not ‘get’ it, I will be screwed too and they will get screwed
because others will condemn them.
My family, they love it. You have no idea who my dad is,
right? (search his name, Dr. Aroon Shaowanasai) It was a
blast! In the film I looked like my mom. She loves it. I turn
out to be the second oldest leading lady in Thai cinema.
The audiences valued the person that appeared on the
screen as being extraordinary. It is not true. I am still me. I
have other media to work with and I have moved on. People
think that when you make film, you can make more. I am a
lazy guy. I have other loves and talents. It is hard for others
to understand. People want more and more films and of
course, I will not give it to them.
There are several different versions
of Iron Pussy. What is the next
version going to be?
You will see if you look in different media, apart from film.
It could be anything, anything at all. You just have to wait.
There are four versions of Iron Pussy now. The first
three are short videos, under 30 minutes.
Each director will have the vision to transform
her into anything he/she imagines. Today is film.
Tomorrow might be… Bollywood maybe?
What is the biggest challenge
for you? How do you deal with
it?
Money. You need people that believe in you, and those
need to be people with money! My way of dealing
with it is that we will cross the bridge when we get to
the bridge. Like I always say, we are all eligible for seat
upgrades; we’ve just got to get to the damn airport first!
Were there any stereotypes that you
came across during the making of
the film?
Being a gay film director. Openly gay film director to be
exact. It is easier if you dress the dress and talk the talk.
But when you get money, you can go wild, in the system.
There are a lot of gay directors in the scene now. But those
guys are master class. I can see that the younger generation
is coming up. I am just one of the lower ones.
On the sets? They love me. The Director of Photography
was so in love with me that he got my shots in all the angles
for himself!
What are the ways in which you
engage with the media?
Media is fun. Some of people can think a lot of them will
write exactly what you said. You throw your ideas in the
air and some will pick it up as it is, some will think ‘What
are you?’
Iron Pussy is highly entertaining.
Was it on purpose? Has it been
misinterpreted or mis-read? Was IT
intended to make a statement of
sorts?
Nope, I do not think we wanted to make any statements.
We just did it and had fun. The styles, yes, they were on
purpose.
Misinterpretation and misreading can be because of cultural
differences in the audience, but it’s not a big deal. Like the
scene in which I fly a kite with my leading man. ‘Flying kite’
is a Thai slang for masturbation. So in the scene there are
two men flying a kite, and one is in a woman’s disguise. You
do the math. The film is highly intended for Thai audiences
and they get it.
Thailand is considered one of
the more liberal countries in
South and Southeast Asia
when it comes to issues of
sexuality. Do you think
Thai audiences are ready
to handle sexuality?
This is my very own opinion. The first
sentence is overrated. Yes, we are
open but not that open. I can feel that
the door is closing as we speak. Is it
good to be conservative? I do not
know. What can I say now, there
are a lot of issues of sexuality that
we are fighting. Human rights
for instance. We are not just
dressmakers and showgirls. We
are still only the ‘colours’ of
the society. Without gays and
lesbians, the scene will be dull.
We are not first class citizens.
What we have got is good but
do we really want that? Why
enjoy the bone when we can
have a piece of steak?
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 46 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 47

interview
beyond normative sexuality
We are human. ‘We’ can deal with sexuality anytime.
Will it be healthy and fun? I don’t know about ‘them’. It
is the cultural things that take time to shape. Audiences
are hungry for sex but what are we be able to give them.
Woman is just an object? Gays are just sex crazy? People
over 35 have no sex? We are ridiculous.
What is censorship like in Thailand?
Did you have a problem?
beyond normative sexuality
queer desire and the cinematic imagination
Censorship is another thing that we have to deal with in all
areas. I am from the very first set of artistes that ran into
problems with censorship law. Most artistes here play by
the rules, painting nice pictures and such like. I did not. I
thought it is a free country with free speech. But Thailand
is not.
My director just ran into a problem with censorship in his
new film. With his big name, he is fighting in a civil way. I
will give him a hand of course. But his way is too civil, not
my style.
What’s coming up in the future?
I have been sitting by my pool having Pina Colada for the
past two months. You know what, the future will come and
it will knock me off my derriere. I have no worry about
the future as I always said that we are eligible for the seat
upgrade but first we have to . . . ?
What are some of the lessons that
other film makers here can learn
from you?
Will I tell them? No way! Find out yourself and you will
cherish the memory. Lesson that I have learned, is only
tailored for me. It is like underwear, we all have a pair
or two. But would you wear other people’s underwear? I
will live longer and then in the future I will talk about my
lessons.
Or, well, if you have not got it by now, read this from the
top again.
Michael as Iron Pussy
THE ADVENTURE OF IRON PUSSY
(HUA JAI TOR RA NONG)
Michael Shaowanasai and
Apichatpong Weerasethakul
90 minutes / Thai with English subtitles / 2003 /
Thailand.
Male convenience store clerk by day, fabulous drag
queen/ secret agent by night, Iron Pussy is called into
action to investigate a secret cache of foreign money
that has turned up in Thailand’s banking system. Our
fearless (and always impeccably dressed) heroine must
go undercover and infiltrate socialite Madam Pomidoy’s
mansion, posing as Lamduan, a maid. But Iron Pussy is
no mere maid, she’s also a fabulous singer, as well as
the epitome of the ideal Thai woman. When Pomidoy’s
crooked son, Tang, falls for her, Iron Pussy is torn to
discover the truth about Tang…and about herself!
The four-day film event ‘Films of Desire: Sexuality and
the Cinematic Imagination’ organised by CREA and the
South and Southeast Asia Resource Centre on Sexuality,
held at the majestic Neemrana Fort Palace from March 7
to 10 brought together film makers, academics, activists,
students and media practitioners on a common platform to
debate, discuss, listen to presentations and of course watch
films related to sexuality.
The event was an opportunity to watch some of the
contemporary films in the region, and to listen to
academics and film makers on their work. By focussing
on transgressions, a major part of the event focused on
Siddharth Narrain
questioning the framework of normative sexuality and how
non normative sexualities get represented.
Nivedita Menon’s presentation, in which she skilfully
unveiled the ‘glowing filaments in the invisible webs of
heteronormativity’, set the tone for the discussions in
the conference. Emphasising that defining non-normative
sexuality is not easy, she used a number of examples to
expose this web. ‘Enormous effort goes into spinning these
filaments, to make sure they are as invisible as possible. I’m
going to focus on the point on which the light has glinted,
and the filament has been revealed, i.e. the light that slants
on the filament is constantly circulated by other kinds of
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 48 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 49

eyond normative sexuality
beyond normative sexuality
discourses – spinning around off these productive glints,’
she said.
Among the examples that Menon cited was that of the
matrilineal system of the Nairs in Kerala, which was
legislated out of existence, as it was seen as a form of
non-modern prostitution, through a series of land reform
legislations. Menon’s mother, who grew up in the matrilineal
system told her the story of how when she (the mother)
was a young girl, her brother was memorising his English
school work, rocking to and fro and repeating ‘family means
wife and children’. Menon’s great grandmother who was
present at that moment was appalled. She started shouting
at her daughter saying, ‘Is this why you send children to
school? To learn such unnatural nonsense?’
This finds resonance in Sea Ling Cheng’s presentation,
where she discussed the idea of the heterosexual couple
pursuing a nuclear family as unnatural from the perspective
of the Mosuo matrilineal people in China. Cheng also cited
Catherine Frank’s fascinating analysis of The Bachelor, a
reality TV show to discuss how that even in the fetishism of
heterosexuality there can be internal questioning. Cheng
quotes Frank, who after the analysis of The Bachelor asks
‘What if we reconceived monogamy as a fetish?’
Film maker Sabeena Gadihoke’s presentation ‘Translating
Heterosexuality’s Nervous Encounter with Queerness’
highlighted the difference between the hetero-normative
self and the hijras. By focussing on the documentary form,
Gadihoke, in a fantastic analysis of Thomas Watman’s
‘Between the Lines: India’s Third Gender’, looks at the
transformation of the photographer Anita Khemka in her
journey to document Bombay’s hijra community. Khemka,
who starts off from her voyeuristic position behind her
camera, crosses over to the focus of the film maker at some
point, as she gets fascinated by the life of Laxmi who is
one of the hijras in the film. In a startling moment, Laxmi
completely turns the table on Khemka by questioning the
heterosexual norms she lives by.
In a bold analysis of transgressive desire in Bollywood
films, Rashmi Doraiswamy looked at the incest taboo. Ruth
Vanita’s reading of Bollywood songs tracing same sex desire
between women and Helen Hok-Sze Leung’s reading of
queer undercurrents in Hong Kong cinema put in focus
queer readings of mainstream cinema. Arvind Narrain’s
presentation on dosti (male friendship) in Bollywood films
explored the possibility of using queer readings of film for
social interventions.
Helen Hok-Sze Leung’s presentation on the emergence of
Queer Asian Cinema looked at the problematic implication
of the metropolitan directionality of many of the movies
in this genre. She looked at the notion of ‘inevitability’ in
the recent Hong Kong film ‘Butterfly’ to make the point
that the film departs from the ‘global gay model’ to suggest
that the answer is not of personal liberation but of queer
conformity to what must happen.
Richard Fung’s presentation on pornography examined
the contradictory tensions within gay Asian pornography,
which while affirming the desire of Asian gay men,
reinforced anxieties of the Asian being the subject of
white male desire. Lawrence Liang, in his presentation
on censorship, located sex and sexual expression at the
intersection of the ability of queer persons to constitute a
subject of speech, and looked specifically at the productive
aspects of censorship.
Four days of intense film watching and academic discussions
that wove the different threads of desire, sexuality and
cinematic representation together, made Films of Desire
an unforgettable experience.
Siddharth Narrain works with the Alternative Law Forum in
Bangalore. Trained in both law and journalism, Siddharth’s
interests are broadly human rights and law related. At ALF
he currently works on areas related to socio-economic rights,
sexuality media. He has worked for Frontline Magazine and
The Hindu newspaper as a correspondent based in New
Delhi, covering mostly socio-legal and human rights related
issues.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 50 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 51

eview
review
Beautiful Boxer
a heart-touching movie
Hoang Tu Anh
When I got a request to write a review of a film that was
screened at Films of Desire, a film that I was interested
in, I felt excited and immediately said ‘yes’. After sending
out the email, I already regretted it. Oh, it is hard. Which
film should I choose? I have watched so many films in
these four days at the incredibly beautiful Neemrana Fort
Palace. Love for Share, Cut, Beautiful Boxer, Split Wide Open,
Sea in the Blood, Locust, Mr and Mrs Iyer, Bugis Street,…all the
footage screened slowly in my mind again. Each film is so
meaningful to me, though in different ways. Then I stopped
at Beautiful Boxer, an amazing film that brought me a lot of
emotion. It was the opening night film and was quite an
experience to watch it outdoors, under the stars, knowing
that Nong Toom (the beautiful boxer herself) was with us
in the audience and would answer questions later. I talked
about the film with my colleagues for weeks after I came
back from Delhi.
Nong Toom answering questions after screening Beautiful Boxer
What I like in Beautiful Boxer is the way the director makes
the story go. It is so true, so natural that I hardly felt any
artificial cinematic technique in it. During the Question
and Answer session after the movie, Nong Toom admitted
that the film is about ‘90% of my life’ and the remaining
10% is not shown because of time constraints. By the way,
I really like her. She dresses quite simply, put on very little
make up and answered questions in an honest manner.
Transgender and transsexual issues are not very much
discussed in Vietnam until recently after a singer had an
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 52 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 53

eview
review
operation to become a woman. However, most of the
discussions in the media are very much to satisfy the
curiosity of audiences. The interviews often start with
questions such as what is her current life, especially her
sexual life after the operation. What does her partner
think about this or what do ‘real’ men think about her?
How much did she have to pay for the operation? Very few
questions are about her identity, the value of finding and
preserving it, or acknowledgement of her effort to gain it.
One article had a big title ‘30,000 USD to find herself’.
The article focusses on the physical change but fails to talk
about the immeasurable cost of her inner damage all these
years. This is what Beautiful Boxer does very successfully.
I like very much the comment at the beginning of Beautiful
Boxer ‘He fights like a man so he can become a woman’. It
really shows the conflict inside a transsexual person and
the pressure of society. For many of us, to be ourselves,
rarely becomes a question. We take what people call us for
granted. For a transsexual person, it is a painful journey
and very costly. Nong Toom has to pay with a lot of sweat,
bruises, blood, money, a lot of money. She may not be able
to be herself if she is not a champion kick boxer, if she does
not ‘fight like a man’. She may not be able to apply make
up as she wants if that does not help defeat her opponents
or make more people come to see the boxing. This means
that she is allowed to do that not because of herself but
because of others.
In Beautiful Boxer, a transsexual person is presented as a
serious human being who is looking for herself and trying
to fulfill her human rights and sexual rights.
It really bothers me when I reflect on most of the films
or TV shows I have seen in Vietnam that have transgender
or transsexual characters. It seems like there are more
and more films and shows including transgender and
transsexual characters and people. However, this is not to
show acceptance but the lack of it. Transgendered people
are often portrayed in a ridiculous way, just to bring laughs
to audiences. We really need a film like Beautiful Boxer to
show on main screens in Vietnam.
After I came back from Films of Desire, I bought the CD of
Beautiful Boxer. Surprisingly, it is available in the market but
I didn’t know about it before. Many of my colleagues asked
me to show the film and have more discussions in the office.
I have planned on doing it very soon. I don’t know if there
is any chance for the film to be screened in movie halls in
Vietnam but it should be. Besides the important messages
that the film brings, one reason to show it in Vietnam is that
it is a story based in Thailand – a country which is very near
Vietnam. So when the film is shown here, people cannot
say that it is a Western notion.
Finally, I want to say Congratulations Nong Toom!
Congratulations to the director Ekachai Uekrongtham!
You have brought hope and confidence to many people and
many families.
Nong Toom at the Q & A with Radhika Chandiramani and an
interpreter
Hoang Tu Anh is a founding member, senior researcher
and program manager at the Consultation of Investment in
Health Promotion (CIHP), Hanoi, Vietnam. She is also founder
of the first on-line counselling program for young people on
sexuality, reproductive health and HIV/AIDS in Vietnam. She
also works on research and programs to promote gender
equity and sexual and reproductive rights of women, women
who have experienced violence, MSM and PLWHA.
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lack, white, and the world between
black, white, and the world between
black, white,
and the world between…
Confession: I don’t like seeing
the dark side of the human
mind. I am also a committed
Bollywood buff. I love seeing
romance, sunshine, mustard
fields, dancing in the rain, and
spontaneous music played by
an invisible band. And I love the
‘Yashraj’ banner.
And then I see two films at Films
of Desire: Alexandra’s Project (by
Rolf de Heer) and See the Sea (by
Francois Ozon).
Alexandra’s Project is about Steve,
his wife Alexandra and their two
children, Emma and Sam. On
his birthday, Steve returns from
work to an empty home and
finds nothing, except a video
tape labelled ‘Play Me’. It is a
recording made by Alexandra
and their children wishing him
a Happy Birthday. Once the
children leave the television screen, Alexandra begins a
striptease. This however takes unusual and unpleasant turns
when Alexandra takes Steve through a series of shocking
The world around us
has always taught us
that ’good’ comes in
the color of ‘white’,
‘bad’ in the color of
‘black’, and ‘grey’ is a
bit of both. The same
world has (perhaps)
also taught us that
it is important to put
people and situations
in these boxes of black
and white as if that is
the ultimate solution
one can strive towards.
S. Vinita
and startling experiences and
Steve finds himself imprisoned
in his own house with no choice
but to watch the whole tape.
The second film See the Sea is
about Sasha, a young British
woman, living alone with her
baby daughter at a peaceful
beach community. A stranger,
Tatiana, appears at her doorstep
wanting to pitch her tent in
Sasha’s yard. The two women
build an odd rapport, and one
can perceive a significant tension
between them. The film with
rather gory scenes (especially
the one of faecal nature) ends on
a shocking and morbid note.
On both occasions, I came out of
the screening room completely
disgusted and overwhelmed by
gloom. I did not understand why
people made such movies. (My
Bollywood-loving mind says movies are for entertainment
and entertainment equals romance, sunshine… currently,
Bollywood romance also holds true of personal life and
I assume that all is well and
beautiful everywhere.) I didn’t
relate to any of the characters.
The entire depiction of violence
in intimate relationships made
my mind restless and I needed
instant gratification by way of
immediate and definite answers.
The world around us has always
taught us that ’good’ comes in
the color of ‘white’, ‘bad’ in the
color of ‘black’, and ‘grey’ is a
bit of both. The same world has
(perhaps) also taught us that it
is important to put people and
situations in these boxes of black and white as if that is
the ultimate solution one can strive towards. In doing so,
one has to steer clear from the ‘grey zone’ because that can
only be interpreted as being in a state of confusion. This
feeling surrounded me as well, and I had gnawing feeling
that probably it was this colour preference of mine that was
problematic Or worse, maybe I loved only one of the two
colors –that of happiness and sunshine.
In terms of black, white, and grey, I was also struck by
the portrayal of the characters in the two films. While
See the Sea had two distinct characters, that of the victim
and perpetrator, the characters of Steve and Alexandra
in Alexandra’s Project could not be classified into black and
white. Both had immense shades of grey. My discomfort
arose from my inability to put the two characters in boxes
of ‘good’ and bad’.
My professional work requires me to engage with greyness
all too often and I, in fact, have pushed others to recognise
points of discomfort or questioning which do not have
definite answers. My work also deals with violence and
violations and I am passionate about addressing such
issues. This further nuanced my discomfort: was talking
or dealing with violence perfectly fine with me but the
visual representation of it was not? Why was I finding
viewing the violence between two people so disturbing?
Or is the violence that
I have normally seen,
too fantasy-like and
I am awed, but not
disturbed? Why was
I not comfortable
with some forms of
representation of
violence?
But then again, films from
India are full of violence. Is it
because the hero who slays the
villain always triumphs in the
search for the ‘victory of truth
and justice’? Or is the violence
that I have normally seen, too
fantasy-like and I am awed, but
not disturbed? Why was I not
comfortable with some forms
of representation of violence? I
was also amazed by the kind of
violence that was depicted in
both these films: while one was a
good amount of blood and gore,
the other was at a psychological
level extremely unsettling. I was amazed by the similarity
of effect both films had on me.
This probably was the power of representation (aha!
moment, finally?!). If these two films caused me to question
every concept and belief I have held on to, then how are they
bad films? Weren’t they meant to challenge the viewers?
They challenged me in asking myself questions I had never
asked. These two films specifically made me reexamine my
beliefs and ideas about relationships, violence, pleasure and
many other concepts that I currently do not have words
for, and articulate them in my mind in such a way that
there are no black-and-white answers. The films did not
only make me face ‘grey’, but also adopt it to my thought
processes. At the time of beginning to write this article, I
had sought closure but I have not yet found any.
And, I am fine with it.
S. Vinita works with CREA, based in New Delhi, India.
She holds a Masters in Social Work with a specialisation in
Medical and Psychiatric Social Work. At CREA, her work
focusses on facilitating a process of building leadership with
women working in community-based groups.
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 56 in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 57

snapshots
snapshots
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 58
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 59

At the Resource Centre
About the Resource Centre
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to resourcecentre@tarshi.net by June 30, 2007.
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The South and Southeast Asia Resource Centre on
Sexuality aims to increase knowledge and scholarship on
issues of sexuality, sexual health and sexual wellbeing in
this region. The Resource Centre specifically focuses on
sexuality related work in China, India, Indonesia, Nepal, Sri
Lanka, Thailand, The Philippines, and Vietnam. The Centre
serves as a space for activists, advocates, practitioners,
and researchers, to better understand, examine, and
expand upon the complex issues surrounding debates on
sexuality.
On the Advisory Committee of The Resource Centre are:
Chung To, Chi Heng Foundation, Hong Kong
Dede Oetomo, GAYa NUSANTARA Foundation,
Indonesia
Geetanjali Misra, CREA, India
Khuat Thu Hong, Institute for Social
Development Studies, Vietnam
Ninuk Widyantoro, The Women’s Health
Foundation, Indonesia
Pan Suiming, Institute for Sexuality and Gender,
Renmin University, China
The South and Southeast Asia Resource Centre on Sexuality
is hosted by TARSHI (Talking About Reproductive and
Sexual Health Issues).
TARSHI, a not-for-profit organization based in New Delhi,
India, believes that all people have the right to sexual
wellbeing and to a self-affirming and enjoyable sexuality.
TARSHI works towards expanding sexual and reproductive
choices in people’s lives in an effort to enable them to
enjoy lives of dignity, freedom from fear, infection, and
reproductive and sexual health problems.
Contact Us
The South and Southeast Asia Resource Centre on
Sexuality
11 Mathura Road, First Floor
Jangpura B, New Delhi, 110014, India.
Phone: 91-11-24379070, 24379071
Fax: 91-11-24374022
Email: resourcecentre@tarshi.net
Website: www.asiasrc.org
Editorial team:
Radhika Chandiramani
Arpita Das
in plainspeak · ISSUE 2 · ‘07 · 0