The idea for the ‘Love Letters’ issue of Criticine arose at the end of a day spent driving across Manila in late November 2008. That year’s edition of the Southeast Asian Cinema Conference had just wrapped. It was a Sunday. Alexis, relieved of his organizing duties on the conference, drove the three of us around the city – May, Ben and Davide. We were his guests, and he was keen to show us the city he loved. There were several destinations: Fully Booked (Manila’s biggest book shop), a gated community where something needed to be dropped off - and we stayed for tea and sunset, a restaurant in a mall; but inevitably, because we were in Manila, we spent a lot of time in traffic. Stuck in the car, the conversation never seemed to stop. A long, rambling discourse full of gossip, anecdotes, character attacks and appreciations, rambunctious and enjoyable debates, jokes, rants, affirmations. It was frank and unself-conscious – some of us had only just met – but it didn’t matter, we all knew Alexis, and he was behind the wheel. Mostly, cinema was the focus of the chatter – after all, we were all film people.

Sunday became Monday, and we were still talking. This time in a franchised coffee joint somewhere lively at one in the morning. At that moment, Love Letters seemed like a natural idea to be discussing with the founder and editor of Criticine. As Raya Martin says of Alexis in his letter, “he never wrote about a film he hated, because he thought it was a waste of space. He was out there to champion.” Although he didn’t mention it that night, Alexis had already produced the mother of all love letters a few months before, the long, uninhibited piece about his relationship with film and the Philippines that he’d written for Rogue magazine, which took the form of a letter to his partner, Nika Bohinc. In it he wrote, “The first impulse of any good film critic, and to this I think you would agree, must be of love.”

The principle of Love Letters was: forget about being ‘objective’ or ‘comprehensive’, just get stuck in and say it loud - isolate the thing, the moment, the body, the fragment or memory. And write to it, the old-fashioned way.

After the idea had spent some time on the back-burner, finally, in July 2009, we sent out the following email to a list of potential contributors:

“It’s not easy to declare your passions. To critique, tear something apart, find flaws and faults is often the first impulse. Even when we come to praise, we may dwell on weaknesses (and end up halfway up the fence in a sitting position). From “There are problems with…” to “It’s absolutely dreadful because…”, we are often attracted to write about what fails far more than we are about what works, or more specifically, what works for us. Pinning down exactly why something succeeds, and better still, why we love it, is a tricky and interesting business, partly because it’s so personal. Criticine: Love Letters is an attempt to address this lack of open statements of adoration about films, film-makers, actors, scenes, moments, images. That doesn’t mean we are looking for gushy collections of superlatives. These ‘letters’ should be constructed with all the real rigor and careful thought you would put into a message intended for a loved one. We also hope your letter will speak of the things that you hold to be of real value in cinema. Contributors can write about anything related to SE Asian cinema that you have fallen for.”

In the weeks that followed some of the first letters arrived. They were good stuff. Alexis was getting more and more excited about the issue. On 1 September, there was an email from him about the latest contribution that he’d been sent, “it turned out quite nice.” A few hours later, he and Nika were gone.

One thing we knew, even on that first day of grief, was that Love Letters had to be completed. As an editorial concept, it was such a pure distillation of all that Alexis had been doing up to that point in regards to his writing on Southeast Asian cinema. The bringing to light, the articulating of qualities overlooked, the explication of context – the understanding.

When time had passed we got in touch with those who had submitted and those who had not. Of course, many chose to write their letters to Alexis himself. Now we have 21 letters, one poem and two short films. More letters will be added as more are sent. About half are addressed to or refer to Alexis. Together, they form a tribute to him and the energies that drove him to create Criticine. His unceasing passion for cinema and the places it could illuminate.

Thanks to all the writers.

Ben Slater & May Adadol Ingawanij, January 2010

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To send Criticine your love letters, please email them to this address. 11.21.08
Why and for whom does Criticine exist today?

"My people speak disapprovingly of an outsider whose wailing drowned the grief of the owners of the corpse. One last word to the owners. It is because our own critics have been somewhat hesitant in taking control of our literary criticism (sometimes - let’s face it - for the good reason that we will not do the hard work that should equip us) that the task has fallen to others, some of whom (again we must admit) have been excellent and sensitive. And yet most of what remains to be done can best be tackled by ourselves, the owners. If we fall back, can we complain that others are rushing forward? A man who does not lick his lips, can he blame the harmattan for drying them?"

- Chinua Achebe, from the paper Colonialist Criticism

[This issue is dedicated to Philip Cheah and the Singapore International Film Festival]

11.15.06
For what purpose does a film journal exist today? Is it necessary? What function should it serve?

These questions, seemingly simple but with answers that are fiercely debatable, are ones that I began to think about after listening to the podcast called "Tracking Film Cultures" from a recent CD-ROM issue of Vertigo. The podcast, a dialogue between Cahiers Du Cinema editor Jean-Michel Frodon and the editors of UK-Based film magazine Vertigo, spoke mostly in reference to print-film journals, but I believe many of the points addressed are relevant for online publications as well. Jean-Michel made a strong point, and one that I agreed with, standing firm that the critical journal:

.. is now more necessary than ever, because everything is more accessible than ever, which means that everyone is left... is not alone, but is left facing all the opportunities, and we know that none of us is alone, there is someone very close to our ear, and that someone is called 'the market'. The market is whispering in everybody's ear what [they] should see, and we know that the more things are accessible, the more everybody is tempted to see the same thing. And then facing that there are different structures, not only magazines but obviously magazines, to propose, to build the access to desire to other things than what the market is telling you to see at this very moment, which is showing in all multiplexes at the same time...

I do believe that with other bodies, including film festivals [and] including teachers, there is more work for us to do now than ever to build this alternative relationship with cinema.

And the other thing which has to be done, I think, which Cahiers is trying to do and I see Vertigo is also trying to do, is to use cinema to understand the world we live in.

How does one go about facing this challenge, of building this alternative relationship to cinema? First by covering and writing about it (this issue includes new reviews of Amir Muhammad's The Last Communist, Azharr Rudin's The Amber Sexalogy, Dennis Marasigan's Sa North Diversion Road, a feature on Uruphong Raksasad and a reflection on recent highlights from a foreign SEA cinema chronicler), and then trying to make it come alive (with engaging pieces on older films that deserve an audience wider than the ones they have gotten, like Apichatpong's Tropical Malady- which has never shown in the Philippines- and Mysterious Object at Noon, Lino Brocka's Bona, and the cinema of Thai experimental filmmaker Sasithorn Ariyavicha), but also to look at what is happening critically (as is done in the review of the film Singapore Dreaming and the newly pressed book Singapore Cinema, and a piece that looks critically on the current cinematic resurgence in the Philippines).

Criticine is proud to announce a new partnership with the Thai language film journal Bioscope (http://www.bioscopemagazine.com), a wonderful journal whose activities and reach extend beyond the written page into the organization of screenings, contest organizing, book publishing, DVD producing, and film commissioning. Criticine will be translating into English selected Bioscope articles on Thai cinema, and Bioscope in turn will have permission to translate selected Criticine articles into Thai for their publication. An exciting exchange, and I feel an important one, that is directly in the spirit of the vision we have for Criticine.

With the release of this fourth issue this November 2006, Criticine celebrates its first birthday. We'd like to thank all of our contributors for their challenging ideas, our copy-editor and translators for their gracious service, and our readers for making it all worthwhile. We hope we've helped you understand the world we live in just a little bit better, and look forward doing so more in the future.

Alexis A. Tioseco
Editor, Criticine

[This issue is dedicated to Leonardo Lilles Tioseco.]

05.16.06
Representation is a huge issue in Southeast Asia, and while it encompasses cultural diversity, it certainly isn’t limited to it.

What guides our lines of sight? The politics that decide what we see, and the obstacles that block us from seeing more.

What gets represented? The honesty (or dishonesty) in the images we do see, and the sins of omission.

How to make visible corners that are blind? The dual challenge of re-shaping perspectives through works that matter, and seeking an audience for them.

Criticine 3 tackles a few of these issues.

The reviews section features three pieces you won't find in other places: Noel Vera is given space to continue his chronicling of the oeuvre of Filipino auteur Mario O'Hara, with his review of the forgotten classic Uhaw Na Pag Ibig. Short filmmakers never get any attention! Hassan Muthalib introduces you to the kinetic energy of the work of Aaron Chung, one of Malaysia's up and coming cinema artists. Khoo Gaik Cheng addresses some topics programmers and critics have brought up with regard to Ho Yuhang's 2004 Min, but never elaborate on.

Thailand is a country that has been severely underrepresented in this journal, and there's a reason for that. Thailand has never been colonized; a fact they are quite proud of. Perhaps because of this, they are far less bi-lingual than most other major SEA filmmaking countries (Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Philippines, Vietnam), and therefore a large part of good writing about Thai cinema by Thai authors appears only in Thai language. Meaning: we are deprived of insight into Thai cinema from a local perspective. We are taking steps to correct this, one article at a time. For this issue, we have fresh translations of a trio of interviews by Thai filmmaker Thunska Pansittivorakul with leading figures in contemporary Thai cinema: the brilliant director Apichatpong Weerasetheakul, critic and translator Kong Rithdee, and Suparp Rimtheparthip and Thida Plitpholkarnpim, editors of the Thai-language film magazine Bioscope.

While news broadcasts and political leaders continue to throw around the word "terrorism" with reckless abandon, constructing images of fear about the other>, Philip Cheah reminds us of a different kind of horror: state-led terrorism. We reprint two articles produced for the catalogue of Spaces and Shadows, a two-month programme on contemporary Southeast Asian Art culture held at the House of World Cultures in Berlin. The first is Cheah's introduction to Whose Terror is it Anyway? the programme he curated, the second Shaheen Merali's interview with him about it.

The topic of terrorism comes up again in the work of Filipino filmmaker John Torres, but in a completely different context. Where Cheah talked about state-led terrorism, Torres brings it to a much more intimate level: terrorism of the heart. In my interview with him, Torres opens up about the making of his first feature, Todo Todo Teros, and about the pain we inflict on the ones we love.

In another personal piece, Maguindanaon filmmaker Teng Mangansakan recounts how he fell into and for cinema, his first forays into filmmaking, and the challenge of re-shaping a Moro image that has been grossly misrepresented by popular media.

For the final journal entry of his residency in Cannes Cinefondation before returning to Manila, Raya Martin sends us a series of diary entries, scattered but no less engaging, touching on a number of topics, including how he was received in France.

Tan Pin Pin's Singapore GaGa, a brilliant 55-minute sketch of a Singapore often ignored, has audiences paying attention. Special films require special methods of distribution; Pin Pin generously outlines hers. Tracking the journey of GaGa across Singapore, her piece serves as a testament to the resolve and fortitude independent filmmakers need to adopt in order to ensure their works get seen. Your work isn't done when the final dub is finished.

Alexis A. Tioseco
Editor, Criticine

02.09.06
It's been an exhausting past few months. I apologize for the delay in putting this issue out, but it is with great pleasure that I introduce it to you.

A hot-topic of late has been Martyn See's Singapore Rebel, a documentary on Dr. Chee Soon Juan, Singapore's Democratic Party leader. Banned in Singapore, the film's mere existence appears to outweigh its actual content. It's director See has become somewhat of a cause celeb because of the film, challenging the Singapore censors. He has recently completed another film that is sure to stir up talk-- Zahari's 17 Years, about left-wing journalist Said Zahari, who was arrested in 1963 and imprisoned for 17 years for allegedly being a communist. In this issue Vinita Ramani examines the Singapore government's reaction to Singapore Rebel and their implications, while examining the content of the film itself-- something that most commentators have neglected to do

Short films have played a vital role in the development of Southeast Asian Cinema in recent years, but unless you hound filmmakers themselves for copies (I've had to do this on many occasion) or catch a rare public screening, chances are, you won't get to see them. This is something the Asian Film Archive is trying to change. Ben Slater examines the contents of their recently released Singapore Shorts Collection.

Still in Singapore, Khoo Gaik Cheng samples Be With Me, the new film from director Eric Khoo after an 8 year absence, which opened the 2005 Cannes Director's Fortnight.

The buzz in Malaysia in 2005 was Yasmin Ahmad's Sepet ("Slanted Eyes"). Reaping awards abroad and box office success at home; it is a film many in Malaysia consider to be an important breakthrough work. Little discussed, however, is Yasmin's previous work, Rabun ("My Failing Eyesight"), a made-for-television movie that some, Malaysian filmmaker Amir Muhammad included, claim is better than Sepet. Hassan Muthalib offers a review.

Indonesian cinema has counted a strong year in terms of numbers, but have the works fulfilled their promise? Tag-team Paul Agusta and Lisabona Rahman give a month-by-month blow of the past twelve months in Indonesian cinema.

On the Philippine front, Noel Vera guest programmed a selection of Filipino films for the Rotterdam International Film Festival. He sends in a piece on his experience presenting the works, and the reactions of some prominent critics to it, ending on a moving personal note. In a review of Vera's Critic After Dark, the book that launched the idea for the program in Rotterdam, I appraise the unique position he occupies as a critic in the Philippines.

Raya Martin's journal was a popular piece from the first issue. Also writing from abroad, he checks in with his second journal entry as part of the Résidence du Festival de Cannes. Sit with the old and young: my extensive interviews with the sage, Lav Diaz and the upstart, Ato Bautista are also up for reading.

Lastly, but certainly not least, Benjamin McKay thinks out loud: "Are there indeed possibilities for new ways of writing about Southeast Asian cinema?” Read the article to understand why he's asking. And then write us to let you know what you think.

Until the next issue...

Alexis A. Tioseco
Editor, Criticine