“One day, they could come for you.”

How I got into the story started from last year while I was in the NST. This is the article.
  

The news reporters from paper’s Selangor bureau had covered much ground when it came to the cow’s head protest. They had spoken to people in Taman Ixora, Section 23, Shah Alam and gotten responses to the protest.

There was also a lot of feedback about how residents felt about the relocation of a historic temple to their neighbourhood. Since it was the relocation of the temple that supposedly sparked the protest. 

But my article was not specifically on the cow’s head protest and chaotic MBSA dialogue that followed. It was how that incident tied into the rise of Malay supremacist groups. The article also looked at whether such a gruesome display of civic rights meant that the average Malay was getting more intolerant and that they were prepared to resort to more vicious means to get their feelings across.

Somehow that incident never left my mind. That the cow’s head protestors were a vocal, militant minority had been established. But what I wanted to know was what the “silent majority” of Taman Ixora felt towards them.

More importantly, why did this silent majority sit back and allow the militant minority to act and speak in their name? Were they scared of them? Did they not care that a group of 10 or so men had hijacked their community and gone on to do things on their behalf?

If they could allow this group to lord over them, what happens when they do something more drastic the next time some communal issue crops up? For instance, if non-Muslims want to have special gatherings or kenduri at their houses and the noise and guests spill out into the streets? Would the community sit by while this group goes up and threatens the non-Muslim residents?

It sounds paranoid but think about it. If you sat by and allowed a group of people to carry the head of a dead cow through the streets in your name, then you’re telegraphing to them that you agree with them.

Emboldened by your permission, they’ll feel that they can do anything. The next time they won't be reluctant to start intimidating your neighbours. If you sit by, then you’re sending a message to those bullies that you’re not going to get involved. That this kind of behaviour is ok. Even worse, that you agree with them.

It’s like that saying when the Nazis started rounding up people for death camps in 1940s Germany:
“When they came for the communists, I did nothing. When they came for the Jews, I did nothing. And then one day, they came for me.”

This is what the film was going to be about. Whether the people of Taman Ixora, Section 23 will allow history to repeat itself.

ends

How I turned Siti's world upside down, again.

The way her head twisted up at me when she said “WHAT?” was as if I told I was not really Muslim. Or that I was going to leave and join a Buddhist monastery and had asked her if she wanted to come. 

It was like: 

“what? What? WHAT? WHAAAT?” 

Of course she tells it differently.   




 

 
But after she said yes and we started talking about the project she immediately threw me questions that I had not thought about and which were critical to the film.

I won’t pretend that I am not a newbie. I’ve only done two films before this and they were works of fiction. This one was going to be a true story. Even though I hadn’t done any documentaries, I have wide experience doing articles on intricate social issues.

The principle is the same if you’re approaching a story in print or in video form.  

Why should this story be told? And why should anyone bother reading/viewing it? I had answered these two questions but there was a third question that I hadn’t thought about but which she did. 

“What kind of impression do you want to leave on the audience?”

When I’m writing for print its in 2-D. Now that the story is in 3-D there is an extra emotional dimension that you as the storyteller has to consider.

With print, you can influence how your reader feels because they have no other choice but to take what you say as the accurate representation of the story you are telling.

If you say the “man looked remorseful” then they have to take your word for it. They have no other way of independently checking it out.

With film, your subjects can be seen by the viewers themselves. They don’t need you to tell them whether someone is sad, happy or honest. They will see it for themselves.  If you try to hide or manipulate your subjects, the viewer can see that too.

So the challenge is how to tell a story and leave your reader/viewer with an
impression that is true to the story. As opposed to them getting an impression that they think you conned them into.

Mencari jodoh filem

It ain’t really that hard to decide on what story I want to tell. What is hard is actually how to tell it. But i have a good story for this year’s festival and there is this burning in my gut that tells me to pitch it to KOMAS. 
 
The story’s been going around in my head for some time. I know exactly what kind of angle it should be. Probably because I wrote about it when I was in the NST sometime in September 2009. Due to space constraints I wasn’t able to really explore it in depth. I wrote about one aspect of the story and how it tied into the rise of the Malay supremacist movement. But the article concentrated on whether this small but world-infamous protest was a sign that the movement was gaining traction.
 
There was another side of the story that needed telling and I decided that film would be the medium.

I thought about going at it alone. I had asked my good friend Halim, who i've done two films with and he was like:

“Awww dude, why don’t we do another adaptation. I have this great book man about what it feels like to be the “other woman” in a relationship. I mean this is the story of the “other side man”.
 
“Dude let’s do that man. Let’s do that. It’d be awesome”.
 
‘Awesome’ in the same way that eating a whole bunch of strange mushrooms would feel ‘awesome’. But I wasn’t in the mood for shrooms.  
 
Halim was also in Kelantan so that made it difficult to do it together. 

But I felt that I didn’t want to go at it alone. Not because I wouldn’t be able to hack it alone but because I wanted a fresh perspective on the subject. Someone who could see the dimensions of the story that I didn’t see.

And so began the great quest of “Mencari jodoh filem”.