What does a student film set look like when you’ve got a US$35,000 budget?
For Desmond Loh — a Cinema and Television Arts, BA graduate from California State University, Northridge (CSUN) — it took the shape of a busy wet market flooded with wailing vendors and buyers in the sweltering heat of Los Angeles. Except, it wasn’t meant to embody the city of palm trees and the crowded Hollywood Walk of Fame.
As the producer of his team’s senior thesis film, “GLODOK 98,” Loh rented a wet market to conjure the gritty, cultural chaos of Jakarta, Indonesia, in 1998.
“People legit thought we were actually selling stuff,” shares Loh. “But we were not.”
Loh’s come a long way since his first year at CSUN. Hailing from Malaysia, he flew the coop with confidence that he could achieve more as a film student in the US. He arrived in the Northridge neighbourhood, found himself baffled at how slowly people seemed to move in time, then realised a bigger problem: he was severely shy.
Fast forward, almost two years later, Loh has dusted off those old grievances to grow into the innovative producer of “GLODOK 98” — a student film following a struggling couple in the urban village of Glodok, Indonesia, during a period of violent riots and economic crisis.
Despite pre-production starting with the question of, “Where the hell in LA are you going to find something like Jakarta?”, the Oscars-qualifying film would not look one bit the same without the Loh’s seemingly “crazy” ideas.
What goes into being the producer on a student film set?
Being a film producer means handling the meticulous bits of decision-making. In Loh’s case, he had to communicate with and between 60 crew and cast members.
Being a producer also meant maintaining a positive and productive workflow, and handling admin tasks that most people think are easy and menial. Things like hiring a cameraman and ensuring said cameraman gets along with the rest of the crew.
“There are so many little politics in the film industry, and actually even student films,” says Loh. “It kind of forces you to be a people person.”
It’s practical, on-ground experiences like the ones you get when doing student films that give you these lessons, and Loh agrees wholeheartedly:
“Pick a film school with a programme that’s more practical — my school is more production-heavy,” he says. “If you get the chance to have more hands-on experiences, you should do it.”
In fact, his classes didn’t particularly add much value to his knowledge.
“The students needed to be independent,” he says. “What it really taught us was, ‘okay, how do we make a film when there’s nobody to guide us?’”
Loh built lifelong friendships and connections working on student film sets, as opposed to the university classes. Source: Desmond Loh
One of the first big steps for Loh as a producer on “GLODOK 98” was securing the location. Bewilderment struck him at first, the notion of creating a portrait of Jakarta on the canvas of LA seeming impossible, but after turning the gears in his head, he thought, “But what about wet markets?” — a common food source for local communities across Southeast Asia.
Slowly, the task unravelled as something entirely possible.
He marched up to a vendor, asked for the manager, and simply popped the question.
“I asked the owner, ‘Hey, can we rent this spot for one month?’” says Loh. “They thought it was just a random, like, ‘haha, funny student project, haha’ — but as long as you pay me, it’s fine.”
The loophole was that the owner had no ties to the film industry.
In LA, film set locations charge rates between US$500 and US$10,000 per day, or it averages to US$5,000 a day. For “GLODOK 98,” Loh secured the wet market for a month at a grand total of US$2,000.
Perhaps a little ethically skewed, but a mission completed, nonetheless.
Soon, packets of Indomie — a beloved brand of instant noodles in Indonesia — would turn into artefacts in fake stalls to make LA look like Jakarta.
Loh secured the permits, while the production designer spruced up the “wet market.” Constant honking cars and unfitting passersby sullied scenes in a matter of seconds, but as producer, it was Loh’s job to simply sigh, then boost team spirit.
In comparison to his courses, it’s Loh’s practical experiences, like working on his student film, that helped him build creative and real-world skills. Source: Desmond Loh
Producer’s don’t just kick back and relax
As it goes, not all is smooth sailing on a student film set, but Loh was like an anchor that kept everything from sinking. Always the first person on set, always securing breakfast for the cast and crew, always present for those 12-hour-long days.
Four days straight of filming that started as early as 4 a.m. A one-day break, then repeat.
As a routine, Loh always started the day by helping the crew set up the filming site. When the actors arrived two hours later, he’d guide them to the base camp, which stored all the production equipment, and get them to sign contracts. Most actors were part of a union, or they were children, so they had to track the hours they worked.
“If there’s a child actor, you need to get a studio teacher on set,” shares Loh. “If there’s a stunt, you need a stunt coordinator. If there’s a kiss scene, you need an intimacy coordinator.”
The team avoided stunts and kisses altogether to save money.
Loh jumped through several loopholes on “GLODOK 98” to secure the resources they needed. Source: Desmond Loh
But the issues never ceased.
“We had too much equipment. The spot we rented was so small, and there were at least 20 to 30 people standing on the production. So, the other vendors were kind of pissed of, because they’re like, ‘hey, you’re blocking my business!’” shares Loh.
So, as the producer, Loh made the executive decision to pay them off. And it worked.
Because at the end of the long project, “GLODOK 98” premiered in the 34th Annual CSUN Film Showcase at the Samuel Goldwyn Theatre.
The cast and crew received grand applause in front of majestic red curtains, surrounded by Oscars statues — the theatre part of the headquarters of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. They received their flowers, quite literally and figuratively. The film would later receive awards at the Indie Short Fest.
For Loh, it was fulfilling. He was no longer the shy boy, a little lost in Los Angeles. He was a full-blown producer, credited for his hard work alongside a team he cherished both as colleagues and as friends.
If not for studying in the US, Loh doesn’t think he would have gotten this life-changing experience. He never would’ve worked on student film sets that mimicked large productions in Hollywood — and he never could have paved a path to closely guarded Hollywood.
“Every person you know is going to be a friend of a friend of someone who’s pretty prominent in the film industry,” he says. “You throw a rock, it’s going to hit someone connected to the film industry. So I think, if you really enjoy film, you should try and come to the US.”
