Fridae

The thought of catching a Made-in-Singapore movie that explores the 'taboo' topic of homosexuality may have local gay audience salivating in anticipation.

Unfortunately, with its weak script, contrived plotting and stereotypical gay characters, the after-effects of watching Rice Rhapsody may leave the same target audience frothing at the mouth.

Rice Rhapsody centers around mother-hen Jen Fan (Sylvia Chang) who runs a Hainan chicken rice restaurant and follows her trials and tribulations as she copes with two gay sons and a maybe.

The eldest son, Daniel (part-time model/bamboo pole Alvin Chiang), gives trolley dolleys everywhere a bad name by pandering to the stereotype of a gay air steward who dates and eventually marries his rich Caucasian boyfriend.

The second son, Harry (another part-time model Craig Toh), flounces around in flamboyant fashion flops and apparently makes a living by sponging off different boyfriends who either drive sports cars or reside in landed property.

With two gay stereotypes for sons, it's no wonder that Jen pins all her hopes on her youngest (and cutest) son Leo played by Tan Lepham who was once voted as the guy young Singaporean girls (and this writer) would most like to date by Seventeen magazine.

Using the analogy of a "young plant that grows sideways can be reshaped this way or that way", Jen and her cockerel-in-heat Kim Chui (Martin Yan of Yan Can Cook fame) attempt to "straighten out" a bewildered Leo using herbal treatments and consultations with Chinese mediums and fortune-tellers before finally resorting to the foreign talents of a female exchange student.

Played by Melanie Laurent, Sabine is the stereotypical nubile French lass who is about as exotic as a foreigner walking down Orchard Road in these more cosmopolitan times. When not exhibiting obsessive behaviour involving spirals, Sabine juggles tangerines, practices yoga and sprouts advice that would not be out-of-place from LaToya Jackson's psychic hotline.

Using Sabine as a convenient catalyst, Rice Rhapsody then presents the first successful - albeit temporary - gay reparative therapy in Singapore by having Leo (no!) engage in under-aged sexual intercourse with the aforementioned French hussy (arrest her!).

Despite her best intentions, Jen's world begins to unravel when it is revealed later that Leo has always been in love with his best friend and competitive cycling opponent Batman (a simian-looking Andy Mok) and her restaurant comes under threat from Kim Chui's Hainan duck rice.

Many scenes of family angst later, Jen eventually comes to the realisation that "gay men are nice!" after a turn on the dance-floor with three dancing queens at Harry's birthday party and everyone soon reconciles at a cooking competition after learning that "(w)hen you lose something, you gain something unexpectedly."

Throughout the contrived storyline, there were a couple of insightful moments into the mother-and-gay-son relationship such as Jen's belief that she's a failure because her sons turned out gay and her heart-wrenching realisation that she will never have grandchildren of her own. However, these scenes were far too brief and the issues never fully explored.

Having said that, Rice Rhapsody represents a watershed of sorts. It is co-financed by the Singapore Film Commission despite the government's conservative (and some say draconian) stance towards homosexuality and has received support from Singapore gay activist Alex Au who noted the movie's accurate depiction of gay life in the lion city (according to a report in Hong Kong's The Standard).

For all its flaws, Rice Rhapsody remains the only Singaporean movie which focuses on homosexuality as its main theme and attempts to capture the juxtaposition of traditional familial values as represented by Jen and their antithesis as represented by the alternative lifestyles of her gay sons.