因「獨」而「立」——陳翠梅與馬來西亞電影新浪潮
文 / 謝鎮逸
電影新浪潮與獨立電影
在「大馬電影新浪潮」這旗幟底下，基本上都是以獨立製作的電影來組成，並以阿米爾·穆罕默德（Amir Muhammad）在2000年推出的《唇對唇》（Lips to Lips）為濫觴。而作為其中一位領軍人物陳翠梅，在2004年的短片《丹絨馬林有棵樹》得到國際關注以後，隔年就與另三位電影工作者李添興、劉城達、阿米爾·穆罕默德共同創立獨立製片公司「大荒電影」並開始積極製作多部力作。敏感的在地觀眾開始留意到這股潛力非凡的本土創作者，更感到本土電影的潛在可能性。
「大馬電影新浪潮」這稱謂及其實質意義雖然遠沒有法國新浪潮般那股英雄主義式的浪漫情懷，亦不同於發跡於1980年代、關注於社會寫實運動的台灣電影新浪潮。雖然不如其他地區的新浪潮都有一定幅度地影響後繼的電影發展，但馬來西亞的主流商業電影卻和新浪潮猶如兩個平行世界、互不相擾。要等到2000以後才開始真正展露頭角的這一批年輕電影工作者，卻是以獨立製片之姿，來逃離中心、並從疆界邊陲的海岸試著掀起新的浪潮往中心內陸的岸上拍打。
縱觀2000年代的這些獨立電影，大多數都普遍有著相似的共通點；低成本、非職業演員、冷靜或冗長的鏡頭語言、文青般的哲思絮語等。在題材的選擇上，也較為關注人在都市化後的變異、對國族與多元族群認同議題的處理等；冥冥中都有著相去不遠的同質性。在馬來西亞取得拍攝場地的執照申請程序冗長且極其不易，因此許多獨立電影幾乎都是靠著打游擊的方式在公共場合進行拍攝。這也是為什麼很多獨立電影都有著看似粗糙的影像質感，並且某程度上也有著相當紀實的臨場感。
基本上很難從當地文化部及公家單位要到文化事業的經費補助，所以早期的獨立電影幾乎都仰賴團隊自費和電影節的資金供養。而在這群人之間都因著「同道中人」而促成了一種同儕關係間的默契；可以看到大家常互相給予拍攝上的資金支援、技術協助甚至出演要角或客串等。在這種互助文化之下，也讓這一群電影人在大片荒漠中凝聚起一片雖小卻清新快意的綠洲。
由於這些獨立電影的目標觀眾群始終是鎖定藝術電影的愛好者，作品流通的管道自然也會受限。國內主流電影院線要放映這些片子，通常只能與國外的參展藝術電影一同並列「國際外語片」的小眾形式上映。這種現象不僅讓人啼笑皆非又慨嘆，且放映廳院和場次屈指可數、宣傳低落且市場低迷。因此獨立電影的放映場域通常以地下的方式流通，如咖啡廳、複合式空間或私人工作室等。另外，少量的DVD光碟也是極為有效的傳播形式。
獨立之所以為「獨立」，雖然素來就蘊含著的某種抵抗之姿，但是否能夠真正超克國族主義的框架以及資源不均分挹注的文化政策，並在這低資源以及低限技術的門檻之下，發揮其最大的品質成效？既然是「浪潮」，就意味著總有不停息的潮汐在往前推進。而如果我們能夠意識到浪潮是以一波接一波、各自競相勇撲上岸的階段形式，那「新浪潮」當然也不會只是一個在斷代中封閉又單向指涉的浪漫修辭了。
陳翠梅的創作路徑
如果沒有前述的這些種種框架與條件限制，恐怕也難以催生出這一波「大馬電影新浪潮」。陳翠梅作為中堅力量，實力自然不容小覷。但更難能可貴的，是她對於影像創作上極為開拓性的實驗性嘗試以及對從個體到社會的命題掌握。
2004年拍了《丹絨馬林有棵樹》，旋即在各大影展如奧伯豪森國際短片電影節上大放異彩。導演自稱該片是一齣虛構的「自傳」；以一名逃學的高中少女與魯蛇男子之間的滿嘴屁話、斷斷續續地閒聊，卻不無對未來不安定的生活作出似而畏懼又像逃避的無言控訴。
在馬來西亞這種結構複雜的地方，很難與各種情境的政治脫鉤；無論是家國的，或是宗教、種族、語言、性別，以至於個人的生命政治。《一个未来》找來曾為「內安法令」受害者的政治人物蔡添強，演出一個在烏托邦未來世界的「異端」，因而被神秘人士押走。關注難民議題和族群離散意識之辯證的《南方以南》，敘述生活在1980年代、東海岸關丹的一戶華人家庭，與片中的越南難民彷彿是遙遙對應的另種平行關係；鏡頭前的這片南中國海作為漂流的意象也不言而喻。首部長片《愛情征服一切》，有意識地透過一個看似俗爛的愛情故事，卻又打臉了無數個甘願為愛奔走天涯的癡情少女。《蘑菇兄弟们》則講述四個嘰歪男人，口中故作輕蔑自家妻女，卻又不願承認女性是他們難解的困擾所以才必須短暫離家逃避。
2010年的次部長片《無夏之年》，可看作是陳翠梅階段性的大作，也是對自己創作歷程的整理。導演選擇回到了童年故鄉蛇河村拍攝，並以兩段式的倒敘結構來處理人物記憶的回溯。故事講述離鄉多年的歌手回到靠海的故鄉，並與兒時玩伴和他的妻子一同乘船夜遊月圓之夜的海面。他們聊起各種美麗的傳說故事，還比賽誰能夠在海裡閉氣最久。最終歌手以他最終極的方式永遠地銘刻在他的原生地之中。片中利用月光來作攝影照明，在夜遊的那一場戲裡，觀眾沉浸在幾乎全暗的氛圍當中，只能透過不時從銀幕上傳來的依稀燈火來端視如憂鬱藍調一般的靜謐海面。為了達致最理想的鏡頭也必須配合月圓週期拍攝，其技術難度可想而知。
無論短打抑或長征，陳翠梅總以她細微的敏感度與趣味哲思兼具的台詞，來架構出她的電影世界。或許會有人認為來自多族裔社會的創作者總是會對我他之間的流動與變化關係特別有自覺；但就算這不是一種必然，也無法否認在其作品裡依然看得見日常/尋常的生活裡頭那些隨時可能帶來崩解或不安的危機感；無論是各種維度上的政治，抑或個人經驗中的情感梳理。
*本文為節錄版，原文載於《放映週報》焦點影評，第628期，2018/08/07；並經得《放映週報》與桃園電影節同意轉載。
Indie Films Standing on Own’s Feet: Tan Chui Mui and the Malaysian New Wave
/ Seah Jenn Yi (Translated by Show Ying Xin)
Malaysian New Wave and Indie Filmmaking
Under the umbrella of the “Malaysian New Wave,” independent filmmakers in the country are bonded together, with Amir Muhammad’s Lips to Lips (2000) often seen as the beginning of the movement. One of the leading figures Tan Chui Mui gained international attention with her short film A Tree in Tanjung Malim (2004); she then teamed up with James Lee, Liew Seng Tat and Amir Muhammad in 2005, co-founded the independent production house Da Huang Pictures. Audiences began to pay attention to these high-potential local filmmakers, and they also felt the potency of local films.
The naming and substantive meaning of the “Malaysian New Wave” are far from the heroic, romantic sentiments of French New Wave which emerged in the 1950s, and the movement also differs from the Taiwanese New Wave in the 1980s which keeps a close eye on the social reality. The Malaysian New Wave, unlike its counterparts which have influenced the subsequent cinematic development in the society to a certain degree, has kept themselves apart from the mainstream commercial films. This group of young filmmakers emerged in the 2000s, producing indie films from the marginal position, and has set off a wave beating into the center.
These indie films created in the 2000s have some features in common: low cost, non-professional actors, calm and long shots, and philosophical dialogues. In terms of subject matters, they had similar concerns about the alienation of people in urban life and also issues about national identity and multiethnic identity. The process of obtaining filming venue license in Malaysia can be time-consuming and extremely difficult; therefore, many indie filmmakers shot in public spaces in a rather guerilla way. This is also one of the reasons why the image textures of many indie films seem so rough, as they convey a sense of on-the-spot immediacy to a certain extent.
Basically, it was difficult for indie films in those days to receive financial assistance from the related governmental agencies; thus they relied on their own expenses and funds from international film festivals. In between this group of filmmakers, there was an affective comradeship that formed tacit cooperation in terms of financial support or technical assistance; they even starred in one another’s films. This culture of mutual assistance has allowed these filmmakers to gather a small but refreshing oasis in the vast desert.
As the target audience of these indie films is mainly art-cinema goers, the circulation of the works is inadvertently limited. For the mainstream movie theatres to screen these films, usually it will take the form of an art film festival in which the local indie films are packaged together as “international foreign-language films.” This phenomenon is not only ridiculous but also saddening, what more with the results of very few screenings, low publicity, and a weak market. In this regard, the screenings of the indie films are mostly underground, in places like cafes, multifunctional spaces or private studios. Besides, selling of DVDs is also an effective way of communication.
The production of indie films has always implicated an attitude of resistance. But how do they go beyond nationalist framework and unequal cultural policies, while maximizing their quality performance in this field that requires only low budget and with no or few prerequisites? Since it is called a “wave,” it also alludes to restless tides that move forward time and again. If we understand the wave as a form of non-stop movement, a phase that allows competing forces to go one after another ashore, then the “New Wave” is certainly not romanticized rhetoric that described an enclosed generation unilaterally.
The creative journey of Tan Chui Mui
If there weren’t any limitation and tough condition in Malaysia, like what has been mentioned above, it might be difficult to imagine the birth of the Malaysian New Wave. Tan Chui Mui, as the backbone of this movement, her pioneering and experimental attempts in image making is highly commendable, not to mention the way she deals with the proposition of individual and society.
A Tree in Tanjung Malim won her international acclaim such as at the International Short Film Festival Oberhausen. A self-proclaimed fictional “autobiography,” the film narrates the story of a truanted high-school girl and a “loser” guy who chat about nonsense, but it shows their wordless discontents about the insecure future, seemingly fearful yet escapist. In a nation like Malaysia which is structurally complex, it is difficult not to take into consideration of the politics of many situations, such as the national, the religious, the linguistic, the gender and the biopolitics of individuals.
One future (2009) features the politician Tian Chua who was a victim of the Internal Security Act (ISA), in which film he plays the role of a heretic in a future utopia, being taken away secretly by a mysterious man. South of South (2006) is about refugees and diaspora: the juxtaposition of a Chinese family living in Kuantan in the 1980s with a group of Vietnamese refugees. The South China Sea, through the camera, is seen as an image of drifting. Tan Chui Mui’s first feature film Love Conquers All (2006) consciously tells a cheesy love story, yet it is also a slap in the face for many infatuated girls who would do anything just for love. Company of Mushrooms (2006) tells the story of four crooked men who pretend to be scornful of their wives and daughters, but the men are reluctant to admit that they escape from home even for a short while precisely because they are troubled by women.
Tan Chui Mui’s second feature film Year Without A Summer (2010) can be seen as a masterpiece of this stage of her career. It is also a reflection of the course of her artistic creation. The film was shot in her hometown, Kampung Sungai Ular, using two-sectional flashbacks to trace the recalling of memory. A singer who has left home many years returns to his hometown besides the sea, riding on a boat under the full moonlight with his childhood best friend and the latter’s wife. They talk about all the beautiful legends and stories and even compete to hold breath as long as they can under the sea. Eventually, the singer is forever engraved in his birthplace. In the film, moonlight is the only source of lighting for shooting. In the scene of the night boat ride, the audiences are immersed in the almost all-dark atmosphere except for some weak lights on the screen, and can only glimpse at the peaceful sea surface in melancholic blues. To take the best shots, the filming schedule has to adhere to the moon phases, which is an obvious technical challenge for the shooting team.
Regardless of shorts or feature films, Tan Chui Mui’s cinematic world is often marked by her subtle sensitivity and the amusing but philosophical dialogues. Perhaps some would think that a director/author from a multiethnic society would always be self-conscious about the fluid relationship between oneself and the other; yet, even if this might not be unavoidable, it is undeniable that Tan’s works are filled with feelings of anxiety and sense of crisis in individuals’ daily, mundane life. These feelings can be political, from various aspects, yet they can also be a sorting of emotions in personal experiences.
* This article is an excerpt from a full article published on Funscreen Issue No. 628 on Aug 7, 2018, republished with permission from Funscreen and Taoyuan Film Festival 2018.