SGIFF Film Review: The River That Never Ends
Content Creator Phyllis Chan reviews JT Trinidad’s short film the river that never ends (2022).
Throughout human history, rivers have been seen as a life-giving force, capable of transforming the lives of us, mere mortals. Our relationship with the river transcends the physical realm to a spiritual one. We built the first civilisations among river valleys, and across cultures, we have created mythology filled with river deities that we worship and uphold.
Having its premiere in Southeast Asia at the 34th Singapore International Film Festival, JT Trinidad’s the river that never ends (2022) is a short film that follows the life of Baby, a middle-aged transwoman who works as a companion-for-hire to make ends meet while being a caregiver for her ailing father. Set against the backdrop of a desolate city, she becomes gradually isolated and trapped within her circumstances as the people around her disappear.
The river is intrinsic to the city’s landscape and is an inconspicuous presence in Baby’s life. The river only manifests itself at night as the subtle reflections of the city’s lights, hiding away in the periphery of the shot compositions. It appears as a passive observer, quietly watching over every moment of Baby’s life. However, there are moments where the river is made most prominent, especially when Baby feels truly alone. In one of the most poignant scenes, Baby stares into the river in quiet melancholy, as all the other boat passengers are faced away from the camera, capturing Baby’s total withdrawal from the world around her. The river seems to be passive to Baby’s plight, but also serves as her unyielding companion, providing her moments of quiet solace in an everchanging world that Baby struggles to adapt to.
Silence dominates Baby’s world. She does not converse verbally with any of her clients during her companion-for-hire job; it insinuates that there is a complete awareness that she is merely a replacement for what was once lost. No one calls her by name in the film, and she is never allowed to be herself. She is simply a spiritual vessel for her clients — a pet, a wife, or a daughter, but never Baby. There are only a handful of conversations that take place, allowing Baby to regain some form of autonomy. However, these conversations are often one-sided. She attempts to converse with her father about the incidents from her daily life, only to be met with her father's absolute silence and unresponsiveness. She completely shuts down the conversation between her and her neighbour, Junior, when he asks her to move in with him, which would have allowed her to leave behind the decaying flats she lives in. She denies the possibility of abandoning the situation she is trapped in, forgoing the opportunity to be her true self. Mirroring her clients, Baby yearns for genuine companionship, but she has to deny it to fulfill her responsibilities as a caretaker to her father. The people in her life disappear, leaving her behind, and the only thing that remains is the city’s landscape and the river that continues to flow.
Though the story of the river that never ends seems despondent and bleak, there is a glimmer of hope embedded into it. As city dwellers, we often relinquish some part of ourselves to navigate our careers and responsibilities. We tend to be caught up in stagnation, and hard times seem incessant. As the credits roll over B-roll shots of the city, watching cars drive past the highway while gazing at the ever-flowing river and seeing how people go on about their everyday lives, life continues to move into the neverending future. There is an everpresent river for all of us, and as long as it flows, we will continue to exist with it.
the river that never ends (2022) PREMIERES IN southeast asia AT THE SINGAPORE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL UNDER their Southeast Asian Short Film Competition Programme 1. CHECK OUT SGIFF’S WEBSITE FOR THIS YEAR’S FESTIVAL LINE-UP HERE.