Some personal reflections on cinema

This is The Kinetoscope, a newsletter of cinematic musings.

I’ve been thinking about films for ten years. Okay, a little more than that but I think those earlier years were me grasping at whatever I was told was supposed to be good and allowing my tastes to be dictated by what other people thought, rather than what I thought.

However, it was only in the last few years, after I had graduated with a film studies degree, that I gained a better understanding of the cinema I wanted to watch and wanted to champion. (and maybe, at some point, want to make)

I will not define that here. This intuitive sense of mine is ever-changing and I’ve always loved to be proven wrong, like being wow-ed by a director I’ve maligned before, or seeing a cinematic style I’ve never vibed with finally click. I think it is only in writing, and having that writing be read that I can have these thoughts be validated or challenged and I’ve readily welcomed both.

I’ve recently attended four days of the Youth Critics Programme for the 33rd edition of the Singapore International Film Festival and am in the midst of writing two pieces for the festival. Mentored by cultural and media researcher Phoebe, this intelligently revitalised version of the original Youth Jury programme has made me reconsider my relationship to film, as a general audience to cinema around the world, and as an individual writing and working from Singapore. I’ve not felt this invigorated about reading and writing about cinema since returning home and its partially the reason I’m starting this substack. While the film podcast I co-host with my friends Wilson and Eli has been a fantastic way for me to discover, investigate, and celebrate the directors we love, I’ve found an ephemerality to my own thoughts spoken aloud. Writing makes things concrete. In writing, I’m forced to argue with myself.

While my Letterboxd has played host to a few fairly lengthy pieces, I’ve always seen them as a way to crystallize my initial thoughts and make this endless hobby of devouring film into something more meaningful. They’re like ripped out pages of a diary I’m scattering into the ocean of casual cinematic discourse. Largely, I’ve found the platform to be limited in generating actual discussion, or to meaningfully engage with the films we love, or love to hate. It’s slightly frustrating to watch your long, furiously typed out Letterboxd review get buried and forgotten while some version of “This happened to my buddy Eric” racks up the likes on every film. While I love a good meme, or smart quip, Letterboxd is simply not the place for more considered writing.

While I still find some personal utility in using stars to rate films (and still no half stars!) on that site, I like the simplicity of a blog post here, where the words must stand on their own and do not have to serve the purpose of substantiating a number from one to five. When I reviewed Memoria, the numbers stopped making sense. What do I do with a film that feels alien to me? One that I have to find a new way of looking at? Watching a film isn’t just an exercise of deciding if its “good” or “bad.” Watching and writing about film should be an act of discovery.

Regardless, I don’t think many people read my Letterboxd takes, whether long or short, and mostly I wrote them for me.

Here, I’m writing for you, whoever you are. Whether you’re just one person, or a hundred. I’ll avoid dictating to myself what exactly that means for now. I know I want the writing here to be sincere and considered. Accessible but not simplistic. Reflective and questioning. Maybe sometimes questionable. I don’t know the kind of writer I want to be yet, but let’s see where this goes, together.