The seven filmmakers of '7 Letters'

My short film is about a family looking for their roots: a mother goes on a road trip to find out more about her child. The film is about the legacy we leave for future generations, borne out of love.

This is my first drama. We focused on searching for the lead actress and spent a long time auditioning. Finding the right cast is 80 percent of the film done. One memorable experience would be how we were chasing the sun because we had to rush to wrap up filming before it set.

To me, what it means to be a Singaporean is to continue to discover ourselves through the growth of our country. I do hope that we can ‘self-censor’ less so our voices can be heard. 

7 Letters was something born from the ground up – it began with the spark of an idea between the directors, which each of us then ran away with.

My short film is set in the ’80s and revolves around neighbours who don’t speak the same language, but communicate over their love for music. I wanted to capture the sounds of my childhood, too – one of it being Chinese opera.

We filmed at Tanglin Halt Block 79 – a first generation of HDB flats that will be demolished soon. One memorable moment was trying to bring a modern-day kid back to the ’80s. We had to convince him that people at the time used soap as shampoo, and kids would squat by the drains and brush their teeth.

I haven’t made a film in ten years, so I was surprised they found me. It’s very heartwarming to be a part of the ‘fraternity’ again. I’m 50 this year, so there’s a connection to what I feel about SG50.

My short film is set in 1971, about an Indian family mulling over an offer of British citizenship. My short studies the notion of state and identity during Singapore’s early years. It’s a biographical account of a moment of my parent’s life, a time when patriotism, loyalty and a sense of belonging collided between two generations of people.

My grandfather was also a catalyst – I love and hate him with the same intensity, but without him, the story would not function as well. 

Singapore and I are the same age and I hold dear the years we've shared together. I was exposed to a variety of cartoons as a kid – Japanese, American, British. I grew up on a diet of foreign culture and stayed smiling all the way as I always had that delicious plate of local food in front of me. Very inspiring, indeed.

My short film is a tribute to the pioneer generation of Singaporean filmmakers. It’s about working towards something you believe in. And ultimately, it’s about passion.

Our film industry used to be a huge, commercial one, and then it died. We’re picking up the pieces and slowly getting that engine to run again. The beautiful thing is, we have a lot of young talent brewing here on this tiny island, and that’s worth celebrating. 

‘Tradition’ is the central theme of my film. My story centres on Qing Ming (the tomb-sweeping festival) and how a grandma roots her family in tradition – sometimes even beyond the grave. Each year, my family and I visit my grandparents’ graves in Malaysia. It’s on these trips that I find myself thinking about what it really means to be a Singaporean.

Working in a small country like Singapore has made me aware of the need to speak to audiences beyond our shores and the importance of staying relevant to audiences at home. I think this tension is inherent to the mechanics of storytelling – how to be strangely new yet comfortingly familiar.