Edmund Yeo

Recently, as I was finishing up a making-of documentary that I was working on in the past few months, I decided to do some research on other great making-of documentaries. It's always great to seek inspiration from the masters, and I was also thinking of an Andrei Tarkovsky documentary that I watched on Youtube a year or two ago, Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky . Thanks to Cinephilia & Beyond's comprehensive article on documentaries of Andrei Tarkovsky , I learnt of a great Youtube channel which had uploaded some really great Tarkovsky interviews and documentaries.

Last week, just a day before I headed off to Ningbo China for a short trip over the weekend, I walked past the nearby arthouse theater Waseda Shochiku and paused when I noticed that they were screening three Theo Angelopoulos films in a span of two weeks. The films were:

(UPDATED: This blog post was initially a repost of an email on the Malaysian Cinema mailing list from Venice Film Festival programmer Paolo Bertolin asking for the means to contact FINAS (the National Film Development Corporation of Malaysia). Was hoping that posting this in public would help him get a reply. He got it, problem solved, so as per his request, I'll remove his email exchanges in the mailing list. And expand more on my last few paragraphs regarding my thoughts about film festivals. It's sort of a love letter for film festivals, perhaps.)

I was quite surprised when Radoslav Sharapanov left a comment on my recent Andrei Tarkovsky Facebook post that today is actually Tarkovsky's birthday. Tarkovsky died in 1986 at the relatively young age of 54, when I was only 2. He would have been 80 years old this year. Same age as my grandmother.

The very awesome arts and culture website Empty Kingdom had just posted an interview  they did with me. In this interview, I discuss why I stick with short films, and mostly on my latest short LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER.

Yesterday, just like many other times, I woke up to the beeping sounds of Facebook chat, alerting me of incoming messages. It was a film festival programmer friend of mine, his message was this: Edmund, this has to do with one of your favourite film topics, Theo Angelopoulos. He had just died in a traffic accident, ran over by a motorbike!

If you have read my epic previous post about the 60 SECONDS OF SOLITUDE IN YEAR ZERO screening held on the 22nd of December, I don't blame you if you've thought that my trip in Estonia climaxed during its first day. I thought the same too as I left the Port of Tallinn on a boat, heading towards the venue of the closing ceremony. That was my last public screening of 2011, ending a very busy year when I had travelled around the film festival circuit almost every month. I would just kick back and relax, recharge my energies. I had a few more days in Tallinn, I expected to spend them in solitude since I was staying around longer than the other invited guests (I was scheduled to fly back to Tokyo on Christmas day). Explore Tallinn, soak in the festive atmosphere, I don't really celebrate Christmas, but the excitement of being half a world away would probably dampen the inevitable melancholy feeling that often plague my soul. But then, as usual, life is full of little surpr

Merry Christmas. Having a 7-hour layover in Amsterdam on my way back to Tokyo, so I'll recap my past few days in Tallinn.

VCinema had just posted up Marc Saint-Cyr's interview with Kiki Sugino (actress and producer of my short film Exhalation ) regarding both our collaboration and also HOSPITALITE by Koji Fukada, which she also produced and acted.

Okay, I've disappeared off the past week to do some writing. I managed to finish a film treatment, which I'm absolutely excited about. Am now working on the screenplay, not an easy task, but am trying my best. Creativity is a precious little thing to hold on to.

Less than two days left before I head off to Rotterdam International Film Festival, so pardon the onslaught of EXHALATION stuff here. While preparing an EXHALATION press kit for the festival last week, I enlisted the help of Toronto J-Film Pow-Wow's Marc Saint-Cyr to conduct a short interview regarding the film. Marc Saint-Cyr had previously reviewed EXHALATION . The short interview is here . I'll share an exchange from the Q and A regarding why I alternated between black-and-white and colour in the film. MSC: How did you decide which sequences in the film would be in black-and-white or color? EY: The black-and-white, was, in fact, a last-minute decision made during post-production. I remembered reading an interview with Andrei Tarkovsky where he pointed out that a black-and-white film immediately creates the impression that your attention is concentrated on what is most important. On the screen, color imposes itself on you. In order to underline the melancholic

This is a quote from one of my heroes, Andrei Tarkovsky, on colour cinema. When we watch something going on we don't notice colour. A black-and-white film immediately creates the impression that your attention is concentrated on what is most important. On the screen colour imposes itself on you, whereas in real life that only happens at odd moments, so it's not right for the audience to be constantly aware of colour. Isolated details can be in colour if that is what corresponds to the state of the character on the screen. In real life the line that separates unawareness of colour from the moment when you start to notice it is quite imperceptible. Our unbroken, evenly paced flow of attention will suddenly be concentrated on some specific detail. A similar effect is achieved in a film when coloured shots are inserted into black-and-white. Colour film as a concept uses the aesthetic principles of painting, or colour photography. As soon as you have a coloured picture in the

Yesterday afternoon I headed off to Miura (a seaside city situated at Tokyo Bay) with dorm mate Tristan, to check out an old lighthouse. Along with Tristan were Pong, whom I met a day earlier when we went to see the Gundam statue , and Jack, whom I've never met prior to the trip.

I only managed to catch two films at the Tokyo International Film Festival last month before I got too busy preparing for the meetings at the Tokyo Project Gathering . The first one was the omnibus film headed by Mamoru Oshii, KILL. Which left me very underwhelmed , and immediately after that film, I went off to see THE CLONE RETURNS TO THE HOMELAND, because I was intrigued by its trailer and its title. Kanji Nakajima's THE CLONE RETURNS TO THE HOMELAND is a rare live-action Japanese science fiction film, and even rarer, an arthouse sci-fi film more in the vein of SOLARIS (I haven't seen either Tarkovsky nor Soderbergh's version, but that's what this film's been commonly compared with in other reviews) than STAR WARS. And being modestly budgeted, the film's aesthetics reminds me of the much-underrated GATTACA. It's more about the ideas and philosophy behind the science, it is the cinematic equivalent of a 'hard sci-fi' novel (that all my life,

[Disclaimer: This entire post was written with a lot of sarcasm.] It happened more than a week ago, when I chanced upon Jesscet's entry (I believe she's a writer for KL Lifestyle and possibly a journalist for Malay Mail) about the Malaysian production, 'The Third Generation' where she mentioned that the film being billed as the very first 'Cantonese art film in Malaysia'. Never much of a fan of anyone who labels non-mainstream films as 'art films, I left a comment showing my curiosity. "First Cantonese art film in Malaysia? Really? What about those stuff by James Lee? I just feel that the term 'art film' is highly subjective. Usually used to describe aethestically-pleasing (that's rather debatable) non-mainstream films ala Wong Kar Wai's works, or in America, non-mainstream films that are shown in arthouse cinemas (instead of those cineplexes), knowing that 'art' films are generally non-profitable, I find it strange that