Singapore’s efforts to create a model prison were halted almost 60 years ago.
Once heralded as a possible plan for a more humane kind of prison, the Pulau Senang island penal colony quickly became synonymous with chaos and bloodshed. In 1963, prisoners held on the island rioted, burning home-built structures and murdering British Superintendent Daniel Stanley Dutton and three other guards.
Although the riots received wide international coverage, the story was quickly muted and overshadowed by Singapore’s independence two years later. It was this slipping away from collective memory that intrigued British director and producer Tom St. John Gray, a long-time resident of the city-state, who sought to uncover the history of Pulau Senang for a contemporary audience. A two-part document entitled Riot Island, developed and produced by award-winning Singapore-based Pedling Pictures, broadcast in October. It was ordered by broadcaster CNA and is now available for viewing YouTube CNA Insider platform.
“[In the middle of] a well-told Singaporean narrative of a nation emerging from the colonial order was an almost unknown story,” he said Globe. “As a filmmaker, you’re really drawn to something that’s already gone down in history.”
In an interview St. John Gray shared more in regards to the strategy of uncovering the history and sharing the story of Pulau Senang with the world.
What drew you to the prison island of Pulau Senang and inspired you to inform this story?
The Fifties and Nineteen Sixties are a well-told Singaporean narrative of a nation emerging from the colonial order, the top of empire, and Singapore’s path to self-determination and independence. And then, during that decade, the merger happened [with Malaysia]separation, race riots, Confrontationall seismic events.
[And] in the course of all of it, these very famous events were [an] an almost unknown story, very independent, going down on an island in Singapore.
As a filmmaker and storyteller, I’ve at all times felt Shakespearean – this great tragedy going down on a mysterious, almost mythical island. It was filled with hope and ambition, but resulted in pride and death.
When we began making this documentary, I talked to a whole lot of people at first and most of them had never heard of it before. It’s obvious that as a filmmaker you are really drawn to something that seems very interesting and intriguing. Why did he disappear from history? And it was a very important event on the time, which is an interesting fact in itself. Why was something that was at all times within the newspapers, at all times on the front pages, a subject of conversation within the coffee shop that faded from consciousness.
Have you discovered the reply? Why has Pulau Senang’s story disappeared from public consciousness?
In Singapore within the Nineteen Sixties, I believe it was kind of moved down the trauma hierarchy. But I also think what’s really telling whenever you take a look at the pedigree of the island is, in a way, that it was led by several people, including (future third president of Singapore) Devan Nair.
And later, when it got here to fruition, this island was visited by VIPs, great leaders of the time. Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew, the president, everyone at the moment [were] young politicians come to this filled with hope. So I believe the entire disaster that broke out just two years later will need to have been a really deep wound. If you set a lot money and a spotlight right into a project and it ends in such a cataclysmic failure, it will need to have been very difficult to reconcile that on the time. It was a terrible disaster that shattered many hopes and dreams. So in a way there’s a component of historical amnesia – why would you wish to remember this history?
Do you think that the attack on British Superintendent Dutton will be seen as a microcosm of wider attitudes and resentment towards British colonial rule?
Dutton was a person of the colonial era of the British Empire, a system that believed in British rule. Apparently he’s married [Malay-Singaporean fashion designer] Vicki Dutton [so] he had a connection to this Malay world and likewise spoke Hokkien. It was sort of interesting by way of how Dutton is perceived.
Certainly some people we spoke to said that Dutton can be targeted because he was symbolized as Britain, British rule. But I suppose it’s hard to know if there’s ever any concrete evidence. The other three men who died met very gruesome deaths, so I’d definitely say that perhaps they were just people in positions of power.
These are gang members who had their very own power on the continent. They were taken to his island and all were left virtually powerless. So it is advisable to listen to the individuals who hold this power and who resolve. I believe whoever was in that position can be hated or hated by a certain group on the island.
What do you think that ultimately led to his death?
The indisputable fact that he initially lived on the island in a tent next to the boys, and the indisputable fact that he appeared to have respect for the boys at first, shows that perhaps the issue was the corruption that happened later, the corruption of the guards, possibly the corruption of his mind because it grew around him praise and honors. It was already a jail with a gold star [and] rehabilitation center, but Dutton was forced to overdo it. And I believe that is what caused his death.
You talked to a few of the last surviving prisoners of Pulau Senang. What did they share and what did you learn from their stories and experiences?
What’s really fascinating is that whenever you seek advice from the individuals who were there, you possibly can tell that they’re very factual, they witnessed all of it, however it was very much about their experience. But I also noticed that the trauma that was left behind was very much alive. Many people we talked to who didn’t need to talk on camera [this is] still very hard for them, it’s something that was there for them and their families today.
People felt concerned about talking about members of secret societies or events which will have occurred, and whether these threats exist now or not, it just shows that they still persevered. There was something that was so deeply imprinted of their memory, engraved of their psyche.
Tell me a bit of in regards to the strategy of sharing these stories and creating the documentary.
Peddling Pictures desired to make a series that was research-based and wealthy in historical detail. The team had a board on which we wrote the names of all 18 men who were executed, but additionally alongside other key people within the group – Dutton, in fact, and a few of the officers – and we actually put that as a mark of who we could find, and it still exists today. This became our motivation: there should be people nearby who need to seek advice from us and can provide us a brand new perspective on this issue.
We began tracking down these people, and every part took months, from using traditional routes like going to libraries, browsing files, reading books, to browsing social media and genealogy web sites. And that is how we found Michael [Dutton]through a genealogy website, and we found other members of the Dutton family in a Facebook post.
Episode one is more complimentary of Dutton and his achievements, while episode two shows a darker side emerging. And that was essential, including historical documents, historical facts and events, to sort of understand the history, but at the identical time not letting it get bogged down in an excessive amount of history.
How did you approach the reconstruction of the riots?
Pedling Pictures filmed drama re-enactments in Thailand with a big forged and crew, in addition to locations, props and costumes that had to seem historically accurate. There were many team discussions about methods to accurately portray the terrible death and destruction that followed. I believe it was really essential for us to say that that is an island whose name means “island of ease.” There was peace after which it become absolute carnage, this type of eruption. People met their end and in a really gruesome way.
But there have been also a whole lot of guards and folks nearby who were very badly injured, who survived but had terrible injuries. So I believe it was very essential for us to indicate this type of shocking violence to make the audience understand why it was so shocking. And I believe that if these moments of carnage aren’t there, it’s obscure why, in the longer term, 58 men can be sentenced to a possible death penalty and why 18 men can be sent to the gallows.
The documentary was a three-time winner on the 2023 New York Festivals TV & Film Awards in April. How did you’re feeling in regards to the reception of the documentary “Riot Island”?
What was really comforting was that whenever you make documentaries about history, you are trying to make it for a large audience. You don’t just want history buffs, you wish to attract people from the entire gamut. And I believe [it reached] individuals who weren’t often fascinated about the history of Nineteen Sixties Singapore, people from different generations. It gave the look of a fresh tackle the era, something they hadn’t heard before.
Receiving these accolades, it was really comforting to appreciate that something very local could possibly be recognized on a worldwide level. It showed that there are such a lot of interesting elements of Singapore that have not been told. It’s a very wealthy story with many themes and stories that must be shared. It wasn’t only a Singapore story, it was a story that everybody could relate to, a story filled with promise, great tragedy and bloody revenge at the top.
From the attitude of several many years, what do you think that is the principal lesson learned from the Pulau Senang riots?
You could study law and order, about having the suitable people in the suitable positions. But for me, the explanation that is so tragic is due to query, “What if?”
We see that in the primary 12 months the success rate is big by way of prisoners being rehabilitated. And in fact, now in hindsight we all know that it shouldn’t be so rosy because these men were held without trial and were essentially used as draft horses. But with that in mind, what if? What if Dutton hadn’t pushed them too hard? What if he launched this amazing infrastructure in order that men could work on the island and really contribute something meaningful to society? And my final feeling is that this: Would the Singapore system be different today for this reason?
