Too many eggs in one basket?

How come Singapore doesn't have a national film centre?

Britain has the British Film Institute (BFI). The United States, Canada, Australia, Hong Kong and India all have their own too.

These centres do research, archive or fund new projects related to films. They train people and promote films by local artists, domestically or for export. They hold festivals and regular screenings of works shunned by commercial cinema.

In Singapore, these functions are carried out by a disparate group of private and public bodies - quite a lot of it ad hoc - with the frustrations, inefficiencies and skill mismatches that you would expect with silos.

For some years now, a group of film-makers and other art activists have wanted to kick-start a central point of coordination between these silos. Then, after a decade or so, they hope a full-fledged film institute will emerge from it.

Two weeks ago, the topic came up in Parliament. Nominated MP Janice Koh, an actress, argued that a national film centre would "take Singapore cinema to the next stage of growth".

The Singapore Film Commission (SFC) is mostly a grant-giving body, "inadequately staffed to do little more than perform an administrative role", she said.

"We need an independent institute that not only commissions films but also curates, educates, provides scholarship and research, and promotes our films locally and internationally. It could be modelled after the British Film Institute in London, the Cinematheque Francais in Paris or the Film Society Lincoln Centre in New York".

Articulating the views of the pro-national film institute group, she said a new centre can develop the film industry in Singapore "holistically". It can work with the SFC to nurture new works and new voices. It can partner with the National Archives to develop research in film heritage and spread Singapore cinema abroad by working with embassies.

Mr Lawrence Wong, Acting Minister for Culture, Community and Youth and Senior Minister of State (Communications and Information), responded to the call.

He said that there is now a focus on strengthening existing structures, "and I think that's a more important priority than to get bogged (down) with organisational structures and how to organise".

Nothing in his reply ruled out the idea of a film centre, however.

The optimistic interpretation, one shared by the film-makers I spoke to (as well as to Ms Koh) for this article, is that strengthening the pieces might be a prelude to the Government gathering them into a whole.

On the face of it, who could argue against the creation of a national film centre? It makes sense, in the same way that all organisational consolidations make sense.

It would be churlish to argue against more efficiency, better film education for the public, better archiving of cultural treasures, less confusion and fragmentation in film funding, more viewing choices for filmgoers when the cinemas are inundated with Hollywood fodder.

Devil's advocate

Let me play the devil's advocate. Let's tackle the least likely problems first. There is a risk when all eggs are in one basket.

If a national film centre runs into problems for some reason, it might cripple the entire industry for a time, a danger compounded by how small and fragile the business here is. A funding crisis for the centre, for example, might kill a few projects.

On the other hand, Singapore's arts scene has proven itself to be resilient. Festivals and organisations here have foundered and failed. New ones have sprung up. Creative destruction is good for the arts, some might say.

The other possible danger is the creation of a white elephant, or a fat bureaucracy that exists to feed itself. Again, this is not likely, given the track record of government oversight and how the arts constituency has rarely been reticent in speaking up about bad management.

To illustrate the next problem with a monolithic arts body, let's look at the Sundance Film Festival. Its parent organisation, the Sundance Institute, carries out research and funding.

You would think that film-makers would have nothing but love for the festival that over three decades brought to world attention films such as Sex, Lies and Videotape (1989) and Reservoir Dogs (1992).

Not quite. There is at least one online campaign, which claims to have a lawsuit attached, that slams the festival and the institute, calling it a nepotistic coterie of insiders who promote only the works of artists they already know and like.

Factionalism and biting the hand that feeds it are endemic in the arts; when one artist is judged to be more worthy of official support than another, disgruntlement follows. That problem is amplified when there is a single politburo that controls access to resources and anoints stars. If there is one thing to be said in defence of silos, it is that they let artists play one off against another.

Too much power?

The last and, in my opinion, most troubling problem with a central film body is that it gives the authorities a highly efficient means of exercising censorship.

Film is arguably the most mass-media of the art forms (certainly more so than, say, theatre or the visual arts). So much so that it has its specialised entities - the Media Development Authority's Board of Film Censors and the Films Consultative Panel - to monitor films for "dangerous" content.

Imagine a single body that hands out film and television awards (our equivalent of the prestigious American Film Institute Awards), acts as the gatekeeper of resources, programmes the country's largest international film festival and is also the arbiter of artistic merit - judging which work is worthy of promotional support in Singapore or in France or at the Oscars - or decides which movie belongs in the Singapore canon.

In our small nation and tiny film-making community, such a body will have powers of control far in excess of anything that British, Australian, Danish or Indian film centres have.

I spoke with film-makers Jasmine Ng (the documentary Pink Paddlers, 2007; Eating Air, 1999), Boo Junfeng (Sandcastle, 2010) and Anthony Chen (Ilo Ilo, 2013).

All recommend that such a national film institute, if set up one day, be directed by a mix of academics, industry executives and government representatives, in the same way that the Singapore Art Museum (incorporated as an independent company) is guided.

Ms Koh thinks that my fears of centralisation as a first step to homogenisation or the creation of an orthodoxy, or both, are misplaced. Look at the Esplanade, she says.

There was a fear that it would stifle the multitude of voices, vacuum up resources and ticket sales, and wipe out smaller players. It has done none of those things, she argues. With the right management, you can create a major arts centre that fosters diversity and raises cultural literacy, she adds.

I would like to think she is right. The Government will be bankrolling a central film institute, at least for the first years of its life. Will it choose to not exercise a censor's control through its purse strings? I think it can, as does Ms Koh.

The more important question, however, is whether the Government will stand behind a management team that dares to take artistic risks, to make and show films that push the envelope of social values. After all, it will be a symbol of Singapore's film culture to the world. Will it be known as an incubator of fresh ideas or a preserver of the status quo?

If asked that question, I know my answer.

johnlui@sph.com.sg

Many bodies, complex film scene

The film scene here is complex and acronym-strewn.

There is the Singapore Film Commission (SFC), a part of the Media Development Authority (MDA).

It was formed in 1998 to support the film-making industry here. It gives out grants for projects and also helps train film-makers. It launched a YouTube channel (SGFilm) on Singapore films.

The MDA falls under the Ministry of Communications and Information.

Then there is the National Arts Council (NAC), which is also involved in promoting film culture through its Cultural Medallion and Young Artist awards and grants for mixed-media art that contains video.

The NAC falls under a different ministry - the Ministry of Culture, Community and Youth.

Proponents of a national centre argue that the film activities of the NAC and the SFC should be brought under one administration, and that more management be drawn from film academics and the industry, instead of its current reliance on civil servants, who may be rotated to other bodies every few years.

Then there is the Singapore International Film Festival (SGIFF). This key film event will run its 25th edition this year in December. For over two decades, it served as a place to launch local film-makers, as well as give Singaporeans access to non-mainstream works. Funding for the SGIFF is from a mix of government funds and private sponsorships.

Backers of a national centre argue that important events like the SGIFF should be run by the centre to give its organisers depth of experience. The hope also is that a national film centre can secure dedicated screening venues, easing logistical and organisational headaches.

In contrast to Singapore's polyglot system, the British Film Institute is an all-in-one body. It operates as a charity.

It funds films, maintains the world's largest film archives, operates cinemas and organises festivals and outreach programmes for the young.

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