What is your 4:30am moment like?

“我觉得一部对白不多的电影，也能感动别人。因为听不到的声音，可以用心来感受。说不出的言语，可以用眼神来流露。触摸不到的人，可以用回忆来重温。那，就是我心里的4：30。”

I feel that a movie without much conversation can also touch the hearts of the audience. Because a voice that cannot be heard, can inevitably be felt, by the heart. Words that cannot be spoken, can instead be conveyed through one’s eyes. And a person that you cannot physically intereact with, can be relieved, and relished, with memories. And that, is my true definition of “4:30”.

- Royston Tan

This is my first time watching an arthouse film directed by local filmmaker, Royston Tan, even though he is best known for his awards-winning feature “15” and commercially successful movie “881”.




When I managed to lay my hands the movie and told my friend about it, she quizzed me with a question I am sure many have asked before, “why 4:30?”

On the official website for the film, in the director statement section there was a line from the director himself about the feeling he had towards 4:30am, which I unanimously agreed with “I realised that this is a very lonely time of the day, in fact I think probably the loneliest. It feels too late to go to sleep yet at the same time, too late to be awake.”

I am a nocturnal person, I like how peaceful it is in the night, and staying up to the wee hours are common – rushing assignments, studying, reading, having heartfelt conversations with friends online (well…the people around me seem to like to pour out their emotions more when the night quietly slips away). The environment is silent, family members and neighbours in dreamland. The night is only accompanied with the sound of insects and my own thoughts, my own heartbeat, my own breathing. Time seems to come to a halt. He’s right; 4:30am is really a lonely standstill of time. Perhaps that is why he heard about the rumour of 4:30am having the highest suicide rate?

The movie grasps the concept of loneliness, there is little dialogue and contact between the two actors. I really liked the acting of child actor, Xiao Li Yuan, portraying the role of a boy who is plagued by the desire to connect with the Korean tenant, some of his efforts were hilarious and presents a child’s innocence. This makes it an irony that a naïve child is attempting suicide for reasons which many would think of it as what only grown-ups face – loneliness. Shouldn’t childhood years be filled with purely joy and fun? I felt a tinge of sympathy when I saw his attempts to rid the walls of loneliness (journaling about the Korean tenant, exploring bits and pieces of someone’s life, imagining the Korean tenant as his father), it is sad to see how lonely he can be, especially a child who is supposed to be spending these years of his life being carefree and happy.

I like the cinematography of the movie as there are quite a number of scenes that are aesthetically balanced, hence pleasant to the eye and it surprises me at how the camera frames the shot. I find such techniques bringing the storytelling to another level, since dialogue is little in this movie.

To end off this entry, I captured a few shots that I liked from the film:

Placing Xiao Wu right in the center of the shot and his face being very poor lit gives a desolate feeling to the character, which unveils the story about loneliness.

The Korean tenant decides to attempt suicide by hanging himself and a close-up depicts his tense emotions,while alike to the photo above, by placing the character in the middle, it successfully directs the attention of the viewers to the guy's face.

What that is happening is only showed in the mirror hanging on the wall, such framing allows two actions in sequence to unfold in a single take (Xiao Wu hiding in the closet after drinking the cough medicine).

Instead of showing the Korean tenant in the shot, this scene shows his reflection with the use of  the shiny surface of the table, and the reflection seemingly portray a domineering feeling the guy has over Xiao Wu (to me, it in the sense that Xiao Wu's life revolves around the Korean tenant - somewhat, the Korean tenant behaviours seem to govern Xiao Wu's life).

The use of multiple mirrors showing multiple reflections while Xiao Wu attempts at being an adult (wearing the Korean tenant's boxers) which suggests a moment of him feeling "big"...

...and then the use of a single reflection when Xiao Wu falls back to reality and a wave of desolate washes over him.

The camera pans slowly to include Xiao Wu at the side of the shot while the Korean tenant is still in the foreground of the shot. I felt that such a presentation seemed to say of Xiao Wu's "invisible" concern he has for the Korean tenant, unnoticed, tiny, but nevertheless there.

I love the use of shadows in this shot, how it brings out the gloom Xiao Wu feels when he found out that the Korean tenant has left without a word. Being in shadows - I feel like this when despair hits.

References:
Zhao Wei Films - 430 Synopsis
Royston Tan - Wikipedia