Here’s a clip I forgot to post last week. If you are a fan of Felicia Chin, you may want to close your eyes and ears. It ain’t pretty. If you are not a Felicia Chin fan, you may want to note how the dialogue is obviously dubbed.

See how the tone of her voice does not match her exaggerated gestures?  Obviously somebody thought she went too far with those far flung gestures–I mean, seriously, what’s with the huge intake of air before jumping from your seat? Why do you need to shout at your poor crippled brother when he is right next to you? No wonder Tay Ping Hui’s so stoic. Who wouldn’t be with Felicia Chin shouting at you like that.

But what’s with the mellow voice? Obviously somebody tried to tone it down a little in postproduction. But obviously NOBODY thought to see if the sound matches the image because if they did they might have realised that that’s not what yelling sounds like. That sounds like how Felicia Chin ought to have played the scene when they shot it, instead of going completely berserk for not apparent reason.

Maybe they’re hoping we wouldn’t notice. Maybe they’re hoping we would think it’s a part of her Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Because after all, isn’t Felicia Chin nuts? Yeah, maybe, except that having PTSD doesn’t mean you’re mad. It doesn’t explain why Felicia Chin is like a nervous tick from the beginning–recall the fidgety boy she pretends to be. This over the top acting is not a symptom. It’s a limitation. As a result, Felicia Chin’s Sun Min is a high-pitched, irritating caricature that neither endears nor garners sympathy. The only feeling she arouses is a great urge to swat.