I do not think myself a good documentary director. I refuse a grand opening, compelling sound bites and a nuanced narrative structure. Instead, sometimes I hope an audience will jump up and shout out the absurdity of the scene because I do not bear to do it myself. My documentary embraces awkwardness and contradiction simply because it is how the reality really is.
Standing in front of a piece of history, I am not going to make pretentious twaddle, nor an inexcusable judgment on people’s past, as I never deserve the power to do it. I just want to document the fading trust and respect in the communities before everything is too late.
Many times I have been asked why I produce YP1967. Many times I said I have never believed such magnificent power of documentary films for a positive change. Yet seeing children of interviewees who gradually agree to attend a screening, a husband who hears his wife’s sufferings for the first time, and protagonists who cry a few days after reviewing their own stories again, I know the documentary film is doing its own job.
YP1967 