Sotong

《乌贼》聚焦当地四位热烈的变装皇后，ta们曾参与2022年的万圣节派对，后遭到当局突袭。其中，胡安因“男扮女装”被捕。两年后，ta们重访那晚的余波，继续在地下舞台表演，在美丽、欢愉与伤痛中滋养马来西亚的变装圈。

Sotong follows four fierce local drag queens who were part of the 2022 Halloween party raided by the authorities. One of them, Juan, was arrested for “a man dressing up as a woman”. Two years later, they revisit the fallout of that night as they continue to perform underground and nurture the Malaysian drag scene in all its beauty, joy, and pain.

导演：赵慈莹
制片人：凯泽琳·德拉克吕，莎基拉·艾哈迈德
摄影：艾萨·塔伊、Feng Yuan、凯泽琳·德拉克吕，Ziru Wang
类型：纪录短片
时长：26分钟
完成时间：2024年
对白语言：马来语、英语
地区：马来西亚

Director: Zinc Chew
Producer: Kaizerine Dela Cruz, Syakirah Ahmad
Cinematographer: Arissa Taib, Feng Yuan, Kaizerine Dela Cruz, Ziru Wang
Genre: Documentary Short Film
Length: 26 min
Year: 2024
Dialogue: Bahasa Malaysia, English
Region: Malaysia

Zinc Chew最初投身叙事创作，是为反抗她成长于马来西亚槟城那所威权学校，那个扼杀却又点燃她声音的地方。如今拥有社会学学位的她，既是猫咪的母亲，也是焦虑的灵魂，也是记者，以及——别这么叫她，她会尬住——电影人。她喜欢一切温柔的事物，喜欢真实（电影）与人物驱动的叙事。她的最新作品《乌贼》在自由电影节首映。

Zinc Chew first turned to storytelling as an act of rebellion against the authoritarian school she grew up in back in Penang, Malaysia—a place that stifled yet ignited her voice. Now with a sociology degree, she’s a cat mom, an anxious soul, a journalist, and—don’t call her this; she cringes—a filmmaker. She likes anything tender, as well as vérité and character-driven narratives. Her latest film, Sotong, debuted at FreedomFilmFest.

我曾被警察以《刑法典》第377D条“违背公序良俗”相威胁。随着时间推移，我意识到这正是国家强制管制性与性别的一个典型案例。那段经历让我深受创伤，但最令我难忘的是警官那句：“幸好你不是马来人，否则就要上伊斯兰法庭了。”

我意识到，即便我是一名非穆斯林的顺性别女性，也不得不被如此羞辱，那在马来西亚严苛的性取向法律下，穆斯林LGBTQ群体要承受多少苦难？法律本应保护我们，有些却纵容当局侵犯我们的私生活，肆意针对那些本就被边缘化的群体。

REXKL派对突袭事件发生时，我在推特上看到实时消息，立刻赶到现场，却发现派对已被强行叫停。人们脸上的表情是如此熟悉，令我难以忘怀。

正是那时，这部名为《乌贼》的纪录片构思成形。通过朋友引荐，我接触到一些变装艺术家，发现了这个社群更深层的肌理——以坚韧与热忱前行，彼此扶持，持续创造自我表达的空间，毫无歉意地生存。

以往对马来西亚变装文化的描绘，常将其塑造成受害者，或视为异国奇观，但ta们远不止于此。通过《乌贼》，我希望详述ta们的故事，展现其生活的丰富性与复杂性。我力图让叙事自然展开，并运用多种叙述技巧来支撑其流动。

I was once threatened by police officers with charges under Penal Code 377D for “outrage of decency.” Over time, I realized it was a clear example of state-enforced sexuality policing. It was traumatic, but what stuck with me was what the officer said: “It’s a good thing you’re not Malay, or else you’d be going to the Syariah Court.”

I realized that even as a non-Muslim cis-woman, I was subjected to such humiliation. How much worse must the Muslim LGBTQ community suffer under Malaysia’s harsh sexuality laws? Laws are meant to protect us, but some laws allow authorities to invade our private lives and unjustly target already marginalized communities.

When the REXKL raid happened, I saw live updates on Twitter and rushed to the venue, only to find the party had been forcefully shut down. The expressions on people’s faces were hauntingly familiar to me.

That’s when the idea for this documentary, Sotong, took shape. Through friends, I connected with drag artists and uncovered deeper layers of the community—the resilience and passion that fuels them, how they support one another, and how they continue to create space for self-expression while unapologetically existing.

Previous portrayals of Malaysia’s drag scene often paint them as victims or exoticize them, but they are so much more. Through Sotong, I aim to amplify their story in a way that reveals the richness and complexity of their lives. By letting the story unfold naturally, I focus on supporting its flow through various storytelling techniques.